Party Madness

This is a little fun story I put together. It is just an intro so something I might do in the future. But I thought I would set the stage and see what people thought.

This is a story. It is not real, the people are not real, they have no age, though I created them over eighteen. If you think you know one or both of the people featured, you do not. I made them up and any resemblance between the characters and people, living or dead, is coincidence alone.

Please vote and leave comments whether you like it or you don't. I want to know what you think, that is why I post stuff here. Besides, constructive criticisms help me get better. Thanks and enjoy!

*****

She sweeps into the party like royalty, used to people moving, watching. She likes to make an entrance and always dresses the part. For her, there are no real casual days. She knows what men and women want, they want her and she blends enough the hiding of her assets and the reveal of them to keep them in a state of desire. Tonight, she was wearing a dark blue, diaphanous, floor length dress, though it hung in wide strips of material, allowing her long stocking clad legs to peek out. Her heels were tall and stylish, though short cut and revealing her toes, with her nails perfectly manicured. Her hands were the same, with a ring on two fingers of each hand and bangles flashing on her wrists. She wore silver instead of gold tonight, much brighter against the dark of the dress. The torso of the dress was revealing as well, showing skin under her arms down to her waist, and the center as well, with the back nearly uncovered. Her chestnut brown hair practically gleamed in the light and her makeup was perfect.

She was Dianna, one of the socialites that recently hit the news as they bring their beauty to the American scene. Her accent was just a touch French, though she was not. Within three minutes, she is approached and dismisses five men. Though she takes the champagne from one and the orchid from another. She moves through the room and greets those she knows, eventually settling on an older lady, one of the up and coming singers of popular music.

He has seen her kind before. Full of pomp and circumstance, they live for their moments in the light. Only her skill with makeup and hair hides the monster beneath. He has watched her, along with several others, but tonight, she has his attention. She moves to the buffet and he does as well. Ignoring her and reaching past where she stands to dab some pate on his small plate. She looks over at him, prepared to deliver one of her smiles, like the pulling of a dagger, cutting him to the heart. But he pays no attention to her, robbing her of her superiority. Then he simply wanders away.

He has a smile for the plain girl and she is slain by it, his lovely face and even white teeth. He is handsome and Dianna notices. Then the flow of people rob her of her sight of him and she picks up a canapes and bites it delicately. After three of the tiny snacks, she feels she has satisfied her need for sustenance and moves back into the flow. The party is a good one, not really an event other than the gathering of so many of the beautiful people. She spots him again, tries to point him out to her companion, but he is not there. She glances around but does not see him, though he is standing just beyond a group of older men talking. She moves again, where could he have gone and how could he just ignore her. She sees a man, the same color suit and hair, but it is not him.

"What am I doing?" she thought to herself, "I do not chase a man, they chase me." She notices she is in the garden and turns to go back to the house when there he is.

"Are you following me?" he asked. His voice was cool, schooled, cultured and lovely, a deep baritone she is certain she has heard before. And he is close. Very European, close with a hand on her arm now. She looks at his face and his dark eyes. "Would you care to walk with me then?" he asked and simply turned her and began to walk in the garden.

She could hear the clack of her heels upon the cement walkway, but his steps were quiet, silent really and she wondered if it was all a dream. But the hand on her back was warm and comforting, guiding, controlling her speed. She felt herself warm, though the night air was slightly chill. She shivered and he guided her onto a gazebo, one of the few in the garden.

"Perhaps a wrap would have been advised," he said, his phrasing strange in her ear and the Eastern European accent unplaceable. She turned to look at him and he was suddenly practically touching her. "I will help you."

"No, I am..." she began, but his arms went around her and pulled her to him. His scent assailed her nostrils as his hands rubbed over the skin of her back.

"The dress is beautiful upon you," he said, "But I do not think it is designed for a spring evening in a garden." then he stepped away, just as her skin began to warm, "but forgive me, I have not introduced myself, I am Ser David de la Tormes, of late, from Romania."

"I am Dianna," she said and he interrupted.

"Of course, anyone who reads the paper knows of the famous and beautiful, Miss Dianna Frankel, darling of the public eye." he said with a grin. The warmth was dissipating and she wanted it back, though, she wasn't sure with him. She shivered again and he was there.

"Do you wish to find a place of warmth, draga mea?" he asked gently and she nodded. He moved through the garden and there was a small guest house. He opened the door and they went inside. It was warm out of the gentle breeze and she turned to thank him. He was there and took her mouth with his own. Her arms rose and encircled his neck as his tongue battered against her lips and invaded her mouth. She began to fear the rising of her desire. She didn't do this, it wasn't her way. But he was so warm, his touch so gentle and she felt so controlled, trapped by his body against her, against the wall. She felt the placement tape pull a bit as he revealed her breasts, pushing the twin strips of cloth aside.

She was flushed with sensation as his hands squeezed her breasts and one leg pressed between hers to stimulate her sex. Her breathing quickened and she gulped air as he released her mouth. His hands left her breast and his left lifted her right leg to his hip. Now his body was pressed harder against her sex and a small moan escaped her mouth. He kissed her again as his right hand disappeared for a moment. She clutched at him, pulled his head and kissed him back this time and then, her panties were pulled aside and he was in her. He lifted her other leg and began to thrust as she shook her head.

"Wait, I can't do this," she explained but he didn't stop and it felt so wrong and so right at the same time.

He thrust again and again until with a sort of sigh, her pussy opened up and he was completely inside. She gasped. She'd never felt this kind of fullness before. How big was he, she didn't know. But he was big. He held her ass and walked the four steps to the couch. Still buried in her, he removed his shirt showing a chest devoid of hair and heavily muscled. He reached down and removed her belt as he began rocking again. Looking down, she saw at least five or six inches of him pulling out then pushing in.

"Perhaps you wish to see it, draga mea," he said, "Feel it in your throat, yes? I warn you, if I take your mouth, it will be uncomfortable at times." He pushed the dress up as he removed the belt and pulled it off over her head. "I am going to have it all eventually. Your will, even now, is becoming mine. Now pull your knees up while I fuck your luscious pussy, my little slut."

She was feeling good, vulnerable, protected, cared for, scared and sexy. Her naked body writhed beneath his touch as he took her little breasts in his hands and pulled on them as he fucked her, moving in longer strokes now, each push a slam into her as his hands pulled her breasts, she was more excited than she'd been and more out of her depth. He took her whole breast in his mouth and tongued it as his saliva covered it and she arched against the pleasure. He repeated it on the other breast and she could feel the air against the moisture he left behind. She was lost in the sensation, her body overriding her mind. His thumb went to her clit as he pulled her face to his and rapid fucked her with slamming strokes. She exploded into an orgasm like she'd never had, screeching into his mouth as he pounded her through it.

When she finished he pulled from her and she could see the massive cock, close to ten inches of meat, thick and dripping her juices, he flipped her over and said, "If you must, scream into a pillow." Then he pushed and slowly, inexorably entered her ass.

But she didn't scream. Her nerves were on fire, shooting pleasure into her from wherever he touched. Her naked body was beneath him, heart shaped ass, thin waist, slightly wider chest. She was a gorgeous specimen. The programming must continue. She was gasping and adjusting when he bottomed out inside her ass. She hadn't cried out, so he began to stroke. Her hands clenched the pillow tightly and she pushed back against him.

"Harder, fuck me like the slut I am," she said, not really aware of anything other than the cock in her ass and the warmth in her body. Soon he was pounding her through another orgasm and showed no signs of stopping. Her pussy wanted it again. She wanted to hold it in her mouth. And her ass did not want it to stop. He pulled out and turned her around, still on hands and knees, head tilted back, he stuck his nasty cock in her mouth. He moved slowly, pushed into her throat slightly, then backing off and repeating, just a bit deeper each time, until he was fucking her face like a pussy. She was gagging and tearing and he stopped barely in her.

"If I continue, I will cum now," he said, "If I cum in your mouth, you will experience the next level of pleasure, but you must relax your throat, let me fuck your sweet mouth."

She pulled back and said, "I can do it, baby. Fuck my slutty mouth with that marvelous cock."

He pushed back in and within three or four strokes, she had it down, breath on the pull, hold on the push, tongue as much as possible. She put two fingers in her pussy and got them covered with juice then pushed them up into his ass and searched for his prostate. Two strokes massaging it and he was ready. He pumped a couple shallow then shoved in and came, plugging her throat with his cock. She couldn't breathe, couldn't swallow, couldn't move, then he came. Gobs of cum went straight to her stomach and she could feel the sensation flow outward. Her body exploded in an orgasm that she felt in every pore, in every hair, in every fiber of her being.

"What the fuck was that?" she asked when she came back to herself.

"I have changed your DNA," he said, "There is a catalyst in my semen that does that when swallowed. If you remain on Earth, in forty-eight hours, you will be dead."

"What?" she exclaimed.

"In twenty four hours, you will feel the first part, like a burning in your lungs, but it will pass," he said, "twelve hours later, your bowel will void completely and your bladder will empty. The warning will be slight and if you are not paying attention, you will miss it."

"How can you do this to me?" she said. "What am I now, some sort of alien?"

"I don't have a programmed answer for that, however, based on extrapolation of the available data, yes, you are an alien," he said. "More accurately, probably homo superion, though, again, that is just an assertion based on logical thought."

"Why did you do this?" she asked.

"Women do not exist elsewhere in the galaxy," he said. "and they are required for breeding. Humans are like cattle, simply breeding and producing the necessary bodies needed for reproduction. I am a construct, I find appropriate women and alter them."

"I won't go," she said.

"That is your right," he replied sadly. "It is a shame, for you would be treated like you want. You would be worshipped, catered to, desired by millions and had by thousands. You will not have to bear the children, but you will produce them. If you stay, you will die horribly. The final twelve hours will be filled with excruciating pain and eventually, your insides will simply melt and you will cease."

She was crying silently now, whimpering slightly every now and then. She asked in a small voice, "Will they love me, really love me?"

"They will worship you," he said and she nodded. He handed her panties and her dress. She dressed and found her heels. He looked to the door and a light was there, "Walk into the light."

She swept into the light like royalty, used to people moving, watching. She likes to make an entrance and always dresses the part. He watched, with a little smile, then moved back to the party. He needed two more tonight and loved his job.