Meridsya's Pet 01: Trapped

I had let women peg me for their satisfaction and it had been enjoyable, I had experimented for my own pleasure at their urging and it had been good, but this was something else. This was all the pleasure I saw in women's faces when I was inside their cunts. The mingling of sensations from cock and arse became twisted together in my mind until I forgot how I was being fucked and was merely aware that I was.

The pressure built inside me until I was panting with the effort to contain it, squeezing my eyes shut to prolong this ecstasy.

"Come," she whispered in my ear, and I was helpless to do anything but obey.

I screamed as I came, pumping as if I had not just come in her mouth, as if I had not come for a week.

Then there was a moment of stillness as I hung gasping and sweating and shivering, her hand still tight on my cock which was not deflating, her cock still buried in my arse, making me feel full and taken.

Her fingertips tweaked one nipple. "I think you've got another one in you," she whispered, my ear shivering at the sound.

And it began again.

My body responded as if nothing had just happened. I didn't even feel the threatening pain of overuse that comes if you try to come too much. I just started the same climb back up the slopes of arousal, pleasure, and then ecstasy as she fucked me more firmly this time, moving with less tenderness and more authority until I cried out with every thrust. She jerked my cock firmly, demanding its response, and her long-nailed fingers began pinching and tweaking my nipples.

"You don't get to come until I give you permission," she said, words hard and mocking in my ear.

I cried. I sobbed. I begged for mercy and I begged her to go harder. I demanded more. I demanded to be fucked. I pleaded for it to end. But at no point, if we had ever discussed safe words, would I have used one.

I struggled to hold on, to contain myself, and cried more as I knew I was going to fail.

"Come, bitch," she whispered.

I was still spasming as she stroked my chest gently and my cock tenderly, still buried in my arse and still pressed against me, and whispered, almost lovingly: "Good boy. Good pet."

She pulled out while my head was still spinning, leaving me feeling gaping and empty.

She walked back around in front of me, trailing a hand over my chest, flank, back, flank, chest again.

With no warning, I dropped, crumpling to land heavily on my knees but feeling no pain from the impact. In front of me, the cock she had fucked me with was gone.

She stepped forwards. "Well, boy," she began, but I was already licking her, clutching at her buttocks and sliding my tongue up her vulva, my head reeling from the thick musky-sweet, intoxicating scent of her.

I was shaking with the total-body weakness of a colossal orgasm, but I clutched at her desperately to stay up.

She was damp on the outside and slick inside her vulva, and it tasted like sharp wood honey, like a liqueur. I didn't question it. I didn't have enough mental space for that. I simply lapped at her, exploring her with my tongue and finding a hard, quite obvious nub of her clitoris.

I slid to the other end of her vulva to tease and explore her entrance, managing to push my tongue a little way inside her as I heard her say things I couldn't quite follow as my head spun from the scent and the taste of her but knew were approving.

Her hands landed on my head, stroking and caressing my ears, as I lapped at her.

I heard her gasp when I returned to her clitoris and settled in to tease and excite it with every technique I knew.

Her hands gripped my head, holding me in place although I would have had to be pulled away at that point.

When she cried out, she thrust her hips against my face, smearing copious wetness over my chin.

I looked up to her face worshipfully as she stepped back, still holding my head.

She tilted my head backwards and bent down, breasts swinging, to lick my face clean of her juices and then kiss me hard.

Then she pushed me backwards. I sprawled on my back, not feeling stone beneath me, not hardness, not actually feeling anything, and she stepped over me, vulva puffy, breasts hypnotic, eyes so bright they almost burned, smiling a vulpine grin of desire and expectation.

She crouched over me. I was hard. Still hard. Had not stopped being hard.

She grabbed my cock, pulled it upwards, and dropped down over me.

I arched up, our hips slamming together. She rode me while crouched, moving herself over my full length, crushing the head of my cock with her cervix on each thrust, breasts rippling and bouncing, eyes taunting, as I lay beneath her submissive and limp, jerking as spikes of pleasure made me twitch.

I came hugely, crying out and arching and jerking beneath her as she continued fucking me.

She kept fucking me as I cried out from overstimulation. I felt my come squeezed out, falling onto my belly and balls, as she kept fucking me.

She fucked me until she came, crying out in triumphant ecstasy, and I came shortly behind.

She dropped to her knees, leaned forwards, grabbed my hands and slapped them over her breasts.

I squeezed, fondled, massaged, dug my fingers in and pulled as she laughed and goaded me on while still fucking me.

I came again, her breasts turning white between my fingers as I squeezed far harder than any normal woman could take, while she laughed at me.

I switched to her nipples, grabbing them harshly, squeezing, twisting, pinching, pulling them until her breasts were stretched away from her chest, as she fucked me and laughed and mocked me.

"Harder! Harder!" she urged me on as I abused her nipples, then shouted out in another orgasm. I ground her nipples between my fingers and joined her in coming.

Her hips accelerated, pounding into mine, as her orgasm seemed to extend and extend as I desperately twisted her nipples until I came again.

She closed a hand over my throat and squeezed. I gasped and then couldn't as she choked me.

My head began to spin and stars danced in front of my eyes. I clawed at her breasts desperately, scrabbling, scratching, without thinking of trying to move her hand.

She released her grip just at the moment I came. My orgasm was a nova that wiped out all other sensations, all perception and knowledge, for what felt like eternity.

When I recovered, she bent down, grabbed me, and rolled over.

"Now, you fuck me," she said, holding her ankles and stretching her legs wide.

I didn't even think, I just started trying to pound her hard enough to break her hips.

She came before I did, as a tiny part of my mind found enough clarity to wonder how the fuck I was even doing this, how I had this endurance, how I could come so often and keep up this fucking.

Then she came again and I joined her, and any further conscious thoughts vanished for the duration.

#~#~#

Much, much later, I did not so much fall asleep as black out.

Sometime after that, I never did find out how long, I awoke with a start, heart racing, scrabbling to sit upright and stare around me.

I had no idea where I was, but it looked nothing like where I first appeared. It also looked nothing like a hospital, or like the bedroom of anyone I knew.

The room was Victorian. Or Georgian, I'm no expert, but clearly one or the other. And looked like a stately house or, at the very least, a penthouse suite that takes up the entire floor of a building where nobody I knew could afford to live in even the smallest apartment. The bed was huge, plush, and canopied off sturdy, carved corner posts. The room was huge, with a writing desk on one wall, pale green floral wallpaper that broke the red/brown theme, and ...

My heart sank but it was just confirmation of what I had already guessed. The walls were adorned with artworks, almost all of them erotic in nature. There were many male and female nudes, but there were also couples entwined or otherwise erotically engaged, and one giant panoramic orgy. And there were numerous bondage pics -- elaborate shibari, leather outfits, steel restraints and more.

That just made me check my own body. I was fine. Unbruised. My arse was not aching. I was not feeling dehydrated, not hungry, and not needing the toilet.

I went very still as I tried to get my head around exactly what the fuck had just happened to me. I couldn't have been kidnapped by a succubus. That was crazy. What drugs weren't I aware of, that could distort my perceptions and memories and make sex seem like that? But why was I feeling so good? Had I been on a drip? On a catheter?

"Oh good, you're awake."

My cock actually jumped more than I did.

Meridsya strolled in wearing a scarlet silk robe that was too short and totally inadequate over the bust, but what else should I have expected?

I realised for the first time how perfectly she played off every single one of my preferences, aesthetic ideals, and wet dreams. She wasn't just unnaturally beautiful in broad terms, she could have been designed to snare me.

"Where am I?" I said, thickly. "What the fuck happened? Who are you?"

She gave me a smile that managed to be equal parts sweet and condescendingly gloating. "My house; you invited me to take and use you; and, I did."

I shook my head violently. "No. What ..."

"Oh, you need another demonstration? I also like looking like this." Her skin flowed.

I actually jerked back in shock. Her robe went from scarlet to ebony, while her skin went from alabaster to red. A clear, bright red, not the reddish tint seen in some human ethnicities. Her hair fell away from true horns that grew larger and prouder, curving back over her head. Her face changed subtly and for a second a prehensile tongue slid out of her mouth, flicked her ears and waved at me before disappearing back between ebony lips.

A tail, an actual tail like a python, dropped down behind her, becoming a little longer than her legs and ending in a blunt round tip that could not help but make erotic images flash into my mind. I glanced down long enough to see that she had clawed feet with the raised ankles seen on most quadrupeds.

That was proof. I couldn't write that off as drugs. A spontaneous change might be a hallucination, but not when she announced it.

I stared at her in shock, my heart hammering in my chest.

She stepped closer to the bed and held out her hand to me. A steaming mug appeared in it. "Do you drink coffee?"

I took it automatically, still otherwise frozen in shock.

For want of anything else to do, I tore my gaze away from her to the mug. Coffee. I trust very few people to make me coffee, but the smell was highly promising.

"I'm guessing you take it black and unsweetened. You don't need the liquid and there's no such thing as caffeine here in this world, but most humans cling to traditions like that. The habits of eating seem to be very hard to break. It's good for your mental health to maintain habits like that."

I was still staring at it. No such thing as caffeine? Don't need the liquid?

I sipped robotically. It was really good. I could taste the beans, there was no bitterness, there was caramel and cherry.

The frankly terrifying sex-maniac demon who could change form was looking after me and seemed friendly. I hadn't woken up in a cage, or wearing shackles, faced with immediate demands for more sex. That was promising. But WHAT THE FUCK?

"Where are we?" I asked, a little more quietly than I intended, but I was still in shock.

"My bedroom," she said as if explaining something to a child, then burst into a fit of giggling.

I think I found her girlish act more unsettling than anything else she had done.

"Oh dear, it's been so long since I've taken a new pet, I forget how ignorant you all are. At least your kind doesn't scream about demons and God and damnation, anymore. Usually, although I've heard stories."

She spread her arms. "We are in my world, not yours! I can't visit yours except in your dreams, but I can bring you here because this is the world of magic and power and creatures from your myths! Call us demons, call us the fey, call us fairies, it's all one and the same to us. We're none of those things because your religions are all false and so are your stories! We merely inspired them, but it truly is delicious how you took what little you knew about us and the interactions those few of you had, and spun tales around us. There is no God, there is only a reality more complex than you understand.

"We are parallel to your world, sharing time and with a veil that isn't impenetrable -- or it wouldn't be called a veil -- but is only permeable to information, the highest form of which is consciousness. We can watch you. If you knew how you could watch us, but we are the ones with the knowledge because we are creatures of information, which is power in this world, who know how to manipulate it to our ends, whereas you are creatures of matter, stable and reliable and secure and capable of great art, but condemned to merely dream of things we take for granted.

"We can infiltrate ourselves into your minds as dreams or inspiration, we can effect change in your physical world by inspiring your kind. We can, if invited or if the ground is adequately prepared, ride along in your minds or even possess you. We can't reanimate the dead, though, which would be useful but disgusting. Although some of my ... relatives would disagree.

"Seiren is highly skilled at such possession. She took the body of a rather stunningly pneumatic and beautiful girl with her complete consent. What did the girl get out of it? She dreamt a night of sexual ecstasy in this world with two highly skilled incubi, then went shopping for clothes she never would have dared to even look at herself, then spent a night riding along in her own head, giggling and laughing and being shocked and delighted and deliciously scandalised and embarrassed out of her naive heterosexuality into bi-curiosity by Seiren's shameless, indiscriminate flirting and teasing, and then, to seal the deal, a night of sweaty, sticky fucking with a hunk selected from the crowd before closing time. Possibly even you. Now, if you were a shy, timid, self-conscious girl who dreamed of the courage to wear fishnets and black eyeliner and corsets but didn't have the confidence to escape bulky sweaters, would you jump at that deal?"

It didn't seem like a rhetorical question. It seemed very deliberately and pointedly asked. Which, I had to assume, meant she was making a point. "I might," I managed to say, trying to juggle so many pieces of information at once that my head was spinning. At least it knocked me out of shock into flippancy. "Give me her number, I can introduce her to the nice sort of goth men, and girls who will be her undying friends and most supportive sisters. What did you mean by 'possibly even me'?"

She laughed. "Wonderful! You meant that, didn't you? You're actually nice. This is wonderful! Who has Seiren found me? But I'm afraid, pretty boy my Lucas, that giving you her number would be useless. And I meant that Seiren took rather a shine to you and I know that the girl she was borrowing did, too. I rode along with her and felt her yearning hunger as Seiren sucked sweat off your nipple. Seiren might have found you later in the evening, provided you hadn't found someone else first which, I do believe, was more likely. Although knowing Seiren, she might have put her work on hold and found you five minutes later, inviting you into the toilets to suck your cock or for a quick fuck against the wall. In fact, I hope she did suck you, that adorable girl needed to know how nice human come can taste when you've milked it from a man's balls. It just wouldn't have been you, the Lucas I just had my carnal way with, that she was sucking, but the original you."

For a brief moment, I had a mental image of Seiren clinging to me, arms and legs wrapped around me and bare breasts squeezed against my chest, as I pounded into her frantically and she laughed in my ear.

The image was so vivid and so utterly real I was suddenly erect and almost doubled over with a gasp.

Meridsya laughed and clapped her hands. "Hah! I knew it! You see, there's a lingering connection immediately after you're brought through into this world. The physical you feels what you feel without understanding. You would have been so horny Seiren wouldn't have had to do more than wink suggestively. And she would have had you mindless with lust.

"You're a copy, you see. I took an imprint of your mind, a duplicate, a clone, your soul if you insist, I divided your timelines at that instant you sealed the deal with Seiren by walking away. You're still in your world! You never left the club, the original you. You walked away from Seiren looking for someone to take home or go home with and, if I'm any judge -- and I'm usually a very good judge -- you found someone. While I had my way with a brand new version of you." She smirked at me.

"Don't worry if you're confused, humans usually struggle to deal with knowing there are now two of you," she finished.

That was not actually the difficult part for me. After her show of power, the sex, her demonstration of her control over her body -- well, it was relatively easy for me to accept that I was still -- no, not any more, but had been -- walking around the club, wearing those new nipple ornaments, dancing and enjoying the scenery, flirting, feeling the sweat roll down my naked chest and maybe, hopefully, someone's fingers following it. I even hoped that mental image really had been a true memory shared across worlds and that I -- the me that was no longer I -- really had held Seiren against a wall and pounded her until she came. I hoped I had found out what her nipples were like. I was sure they would be thick, fleshy, and long enough to really enjoy in the mouth.

But I was there, on the bed, a brand new copy, a philosophical thought experiment, because a joke-sounding story that I didn't expect the teller to take seriously, a suburban fairytale I thought was based on mediaeval superstition and women needing an excuse when infidelity wasn't accompanied by birth control, turned out to be true.

I was only thinking that clearly because I was light-headed, feeling detached from myself as I struggled to understand. Struggled to believe.

"So if I'm ... information, just a copy, if matter can't move between worlds, how do I have a body? How did we have sex? Am I a golem? Some sort of construct? Robot?"

She sighed theatrically, rolling her eyes so the farthest-most, cheapest seats could see it. "Do try to keep up. This is the world of magic! Of information, not matter! You know we can infiltrate your world as dreams, can move our consciousness into your bodies, I've already told you. And we are so good at it because consciousness is what we are. We have a world as you do, with three dimensions and time and gravity and all that, but instead of matter, we have energy shaped in ways you have no experience of and, I promise you, no conception of. So you'll just have to accept that consciousness shapes," she spread her hands, "this world.

"I took your mind and that mind came with a sense of self far stronger than most of you humans realise. Once you were here, you had a body because you expected it. Your body works the way you expect -- mostly, it can be toyed with -- because you have a lifetime of consciously and unconsciously interacting with a nervous system that is part of who you are. You have a pretty body, pretty boy, because you think you do. Getting you here is the hard part. Giving you a body isn't even part of the problem."

I stared down at my hands. I had a body because I thought I did? A world defined by consciousness? A body defined by sense of self?

"My thoughts shape this?" I asked.

"My thoughts shape this," she said, gesturing at herself and stressing the pronoun and the noun. "Your thoughts? No. Your intrinsic sense of self shapes you. Humans do not have thoughts strong enough to change who they are."