Porn Star
For Rachel
World War T is a series of independent, vaguely interconnected stories about different tentacle monsters invading Earth, very much an erotic homage to World War Z. These very short stories do not need to be read sequentially.
The standard fetish contract.
I blame Pornhub, but maybe there was no golden age of pornography.
Maybe I was just younger then, with tits that hadn't been artificially inflated and hair that remained the same color more than a month. I had it dark red now, swept over my blindfolded eyes as I stayed strapped to a Satanic Pentagon, steeling myself for whatever weird things these guys had planned for me.
It was going to be a gangbang, the plot some heavily hammed pagan theme. I can't say it didn't work for me a little. I did the whole Suicide Girls thing in the 2000s, back before I was MILF aged. Now, I needed the fetish freaks, the weird ones so that I could milk a few more years out of my body.
Which still held up...
My tits were fake, but I doubted anyone else could tell.
I looked good.
I worked on my exit plan all these years. I'd saved, knowing eventually I'd need to retire. But it was like being a professional athlete, I'd prepared for the end...
But I wasn't ready...
Where else would I be able to arrange for a group of cultists to fuck me as their captive?
And hey, the snakes they said would be in the scene were weird, but whatever!
Besides, the pay was so much better than what I'd seen recently. So I gladly let them strip me naked, chaining my arms and legs apart on their pentagram. They blindfolded me, making me tense up as the first clammy scales of skin touched against my thigh, cold and heavy against my bare flesh. They curled, controlled, guidied up towards the center of my legs.
At least that's what I told myself to suppress a scream, relying on the years of professionalism to power through the scene.
I could feel tiny flicks near my pussy, like the hot breath of the creature's head, nestled and nuzzled against my waist. I might have screamed, but my mind stayed rational, reminding me these were professionals, a well-reputed company.
If I panicked, the snake might.
I took deep breaths, feeling the coils tighten around my legs, no longer sure how many were on my body. Another draped down from my shoulders, sliding down in between my fake boobs.
I couldn't help it.
I struggled against the restraints, shaking as the heads neared my genitals. But my chains kept me still...