This series started from a prompt in the Forum by
ScrappyPaperDoodler
: "As Many Tropes as Possible (A Tribute to Literotica and Smut in General): ... a guy ... who's hung like a horse and inherits a billion dollars from a father he never knew he had. He falls in love with his sister ... after somehow winning ... a game of poker ... here's the twist: the sister is an alien-vampire and all the friends are cyborgs (see 'fem-bots') ... his high school bully ends up banging the hero's mom ... we all know revenge is a dish best served anally ... the use of a time-machine ..."
Me being me, I took the absurd as a challenge, and with a lot of help and ideas from Scrappy I've written an amusing tale of wishes and wanton lust.
Content Warning:
Domestic Violence, Mind Control; all characters are at least 18 years old.
*
For the second morning in a row, I awoke to find my lover gone. In contrast to Friday's marathon sex session with my fembot mother, Saturday night had been a very human affair full of tentative exploration, communication and humour. But also, I'd been pretty worn out after a very long day. Indeed, I'd nearly fallen asleep downstairs on the sofa after Tiffany spread her legs for my mum to eat her out. Supposedly this was to test my claim about Mum being a fembot and absolutely fine about Tiffany spending the night with me, but when she'd later insisted on saving Sam's number in her contacts (Sam being the futa cop who first arrested me then ravished me anally by the roadside), I had to suspect Tiffany was very bi.
In bed, after much kissing, she sat on my face, insisting that I 'return the favour', so with my nose buried in red curls and the raw, incredible smell of aroused pussy, I learned this act of sweet adoration, my tongue delving hungrily between her labia to lick up the juices and to discover and tease her sensitive clit.
Insisting that I wear a condom, which Vale had provided all too thoughtfully in place of mints with the restaurant bill (and which, despite my being - in theory, at least - a billionaire, she clearly expected me to pay with my existing account), Tiffany had handcuffed my wrists to the bedframe and taken me cowgirl-style, taking my huge cock at her own pace and using it primarily for her own pleasure.
Not that I was complaining. She had, very graciously, kept her promise in the restaurant.
"Why don't you order first," Vale had suggested while I sat there with my cheeks burning. I was finally understanding that in wishing for Vale to be my sister, I was unintentionally wishing for an older sister who would have no regrets about embarrassing her little brother. Tiffany's eyes were full of glee at my discomfiture - but how amazing it was! That I was in a restaurant, alone with an amazingly hot, sexy cheerleader, none other than my nemesis Carl's girlfriend Tiffany! (Although it was weird that Tiffany had no idea who Carl was when I mentioned him later in passing.)
I ordered the Four Cheese, Tiffany ordered one with goat's cheese, and Vale ordered me to stand up. There, in front of Tiffany, in front of the staff and diners too, she unfastened my belt and trousers, and pushed them, along with my underwear, down about my ankles - before wandering off once again towards the kitchen with our order.
A few glanced my way, some with idle curiosity, some with open admiration, but most continued with their work and their conversations. Only Tiffany looked profoundly shocked, whether at the public nudity or the size of my revealed cock, I couldn't tell. "Fuck, that's big," she said eventually.
Not just big, either. It was hard once again and throbbing in eager anticipation. I would have grabbed it in my hands and stroked it, except I was still cuffed.
Tiffany glanced around, noted the casual indifference of the people around us, and gave a wry smile. "Deal's a deal, I guess," she said, and knelt on the floor in front of me. Her fingertips caressed my shaft as if testing to see whether it was flesh or silicone, and the tip of her tongue flickered out to taste the precum dripping from the head. My balls still ached from having been thoroughly drained earlier, but I hoped I had recovered sufficiently to bless Tiffany with a creamy finish.
Clearly Tiffany was no novice at giving blowjobs. Once over her initial hesitancy, she worked my hard shaft enthusiastically with both hands while licking and sucking on the soft head. Saliva and precum dribbled from her chin, and her expression whenever she looked up at me was one of mingled lust and amusement. I stared down at her, quite in love, and just when I thought it couldn't get any better, she slipped a finger into my ass that was still so slippery with Sam's cum that a second and then a third finger were quickly added.
The combined stimulation propelled me to the edge. With a cry I climaxed, her hand gripping my convulsing member tightly as she attempted to swallow the flood of cum that filled her mouth and spilled from her lips. She looked so beautiful like that.
From around us there was a smattering of applause from fellow diners. Tiffany laughed in response, but her cheeks were flushed and she was clearly anxious about the mess on her hands and face - but then Vale was there with those hot towels that posh restaurants have, and Tiffany took them with gratitude.
Free of my handcuffs at last, I was happy to share with Tiffany, while we devoured our pizzas and emptied the bottle, all the entertaining (and sometimes embarrassing) details of the previous, magical twenty-four hours.
But in the morning she was gone when I awoke, leaving only a note that said, "Thank you for a fantastic Saturday night! - Love, T."
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The previous day, along with the roses and the card, there had been a little gift box addressed to 'Denise'. The size and weight of the box suggested to her a bottle of perfume, perhaps, and the thought of some secret admirer - the enigmatic 'V' - sending her expensive flowers and even more expensive perfume brought her a secret, guilty pleasure. Hurriedly she had hidden the box from her husband, whose name lacked entirely a 'V' and whose spirit could not be considered romantic by the furthest stretch of her imagination, and pretended the flowers were intended for her daughter.
Because maybe the romantic gesture of flowers would be good for her. Carla was forever getting in trouble and mixing with the wrong people - like that boy Jake, for instance, who Denise thought was supposed to be Tiffany's boyfriend so why he was sniffing round Carla... well, she knew why, and didn't like that Carla was leading him on. It wasn't proper.
Hadn't she been a good mother? Hadn't she tried to teach Carla how to be a lady, how to behave and dress, how to speak nicely and not use bad words? How to find a good boy who was husband material and would look after her properly and make sure she had a good home in which to raise her own children, who Denise would of course spoil the way all grandmothers spoiled their grandchildren?
Later, with Carla out on her date, and her husband, George, snoozing in front of the television with a tumbler of whisky beside him, Denise retrieved the delicately wrapped gift from its hiding place behind the cereal, and carefully opened it.
It wasn't perfume. Indeed, it wasn't immediately obvious what it was, but something about the shape and the black, silicone exterior suggested 'sex toy' to her, and a quick, careful search on the internet revealed exactly where it was supposed to go.
Horrified that some unknown stranger had sent her an anal sex toy, she wanted to throw it away... and yet the texture of it, the weight of it in her hands, and the sheer, awful wrongness of it gave it a seductive quality. On the one hand, it felt powerful and looked oddly beautiful. On the other, its purpose was dirty and certainly forbidden.
Just to hold it in her hands and look at it stirred her blood and excited her in a way she had almost forgotten. She and George made love once a month, if that, and even then it was more out of duty than desire. The dark promise of the silicone plug made her yearn for so much more.
Disgust winning out over intrigue, Denise hid the gift at the back of her underwear drawer, telling herself she would get rid of it later, when it was safe, or return it to this mysterious 'V' with a severe rebuke.
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There was no sign of my mother. She'd left a note that read, "Shopping with the twins." Given that I only met my twin half-sisters the day before and that they and my mum knew nothing about each other, it had to be one of Vale's mischiefs.
Maybe I had been a bit of a dick to Vale yesterday, taking her car keys and asking her to suck my cock. In my defence, for what it's worth, I'd just had several vodkas, the most amazing and improbable sex with twin sisters I never knew I had, and had just somehow won a poker game to become a billionaire. All that would go to anyone's head, let alone an eighteen-year-old whose only sexual experience was with his own mother - who he had, indirectly, turned into a fembot. (Okay, she wasn't the World's Best Mum, but she didn't deserve being turned into a fembot.)
I didn't know what to make of Vale. She was beautiful and enigmatic and dangerous, and I loved all that about her. I loved when she acted like my sister, and that she had not only gifted me with the most amazing cock but also kept arranging opportunities for me to use it: my mum; the twins, Polly and Cassie; Sam, the futa cop; Tiffany, the cheerleader; and even Vale herself, briefly.
Was it so bad that I wanted her to be my sister, but also more than my sister? That all the amazing sex I was having I wanted to share with her as well?
Her bedroom door was locked, and she wasn't answering. For the first time since all this started, I was alone.
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Denise lay awake. Her husband slept next to her, her daughter slept in her own room, and the house was quiet and dark, but Denise was wide awake. Aroused too, her thoughts forever returning to 'V' and the terrible gift.
The more she thought about it, the more she wondered what it would feel like. The more she wondered that, the more she felt a yearning emptiness within that could only be filled by the object of her fascination.
It was wrong! She kept telling herself that it was wrong! Dirty! Forbidden! But the air was stale and she was hot and restless beneath the covers, and she knew there was no point in waking George for what she needed.
She needed to get out of there. She needed to get rid of that awful temptation. Grabbing the unwanted gift angrily (but very quietly) from the drawer, Denise slipped out of the room, intending to -
She didn't know, exactly.
In the kitchen, she took it out again, admiring its dark, magnetic intensity. Surely it wouldn't hurt to try it. There was even a little tube of what she guessed was lubricant included in the box. She could pop it in, see what it was like... After all, they seemed hugely popular on the internet, with so many different colours and sizes and even shapes. Some even had tails! It was shocking really, how many different types of sex toy there were, and indeed how much sex everyone else seemed to be having. Compared to a lot of the stuff she'd seen earlier, this little black plug seemed rather tame, hardly offensive at all...
She could try it once, maybe. Get the urge out of her system. Satisfy her curiosity, then go to bed and finally forget all about it. Finally get some sleep.
