Sam didn’t have a chance to respond immediately, because as I finished speaking we arrived at the section of the market that offered a huge variety of scavenged and spare parts for mechanisms such as the ones the girls at the workshop were busied with. He proved to be an extremely adept negotiator, bargaining prices with such an aptitude that I felt it only fair to compliment him on it as we began our walk back to the workshop, the new purchases stowed in a calico bag at my hip. “With a silver tongue like that, you should have been a politician,” I teased. Sam laughed. “I don’t like the current state of the world nearly well enough to want to go into politics. I can effect far more damage and change as a quasi-legal smuggler, I think.” I had to smile at that. “You’re probably right, yes.” “To return to earlier topics for a moment,” Sam said. “I’m going to be in the city for quite some time—if I can get approved for a permit, that is, though I have every confidence in your girls—and i
She pressed her mouth tightly closed. “Good. A little more,” Gustav said, his voice tight. She felt his hand burrow into her drawers, and let out a gasp. “Shh,” he said, laying his other, mechanical hand on the small of her back. “I’m just checking.” It was enough, she thought, to be lying half undressed in the crepuscular, squalid studio. Enough that she had shared her most shameful and abominable desires with him and found herself trapped in a cage of her own making. That he would now lay his hands on her— “Stop,” she said, suddenly. With no little difficulty, she pulled herself upright. Her bodice was awry and her clothes crumpled. Yet her defilement had not made her a mewling wreck, at least. A hot coal burned in her breast. This feeling was familiar. Violet was angry. “Sir,” she said. “This has gone far enough. I cannot tolerate you mocking me any longer.” Gustav stood, his face a mask. “I do not mock,” he said. “I came here,” Violet said, standing and pulling at her clothes, tr
Angelique angles her left breast to his mouth. The purplish tongue darts out, circling her nipple before he fixes his teeth on the tip and closes his lips around it. Angelique cries out, and again Ruiz makes as though to rise. “Wait,” I murmur, “wait.” Angelique lowers herself toward his cock. Still retaining the grip on her nipple, Hardwick pulls, painfully stretching her breast in a bestial tug-of-war. My entire body stiffens in anguished suspense as the tip of the phallus settles between her thighs. Hardwick gasps, releasing Angelique, as the poison I put on her nipple takes effect. Eyes widening until it appears they will pop from their sockets, his neck arches impossibly back. Foam bubbles to his lips and, with a cry of alarm, Angelique scrambles backward, losing her balance and falling before Ruiz can catch her. Attendants rush forward, screams break out around the room. I swiftly rise and shout for the guards stationed outside the door. No one stops us when we leave, although R
“Amy, your father needs to talk to you about something important” announced the text message scrawled across my smartphone display. My fingers casually slid over the hard plastic case with the Playboy bunny icon emblazoned across the hot pink surface and I replied back with a quick “k” which was all my mom really deserved for going to Maui on a business trip of all things and having the gall to not take me with her. God what I wouldn’t have given at that moment to be on some sandy beach, soaking up some rays, drinking a beer like in those commercials or better yet drinking in the site of all those hot surfer boys running out of the wild ocean, their big, speedo covered bulges bobbing up and down as they ran towards me. Oh fuck yeah, totally need to get me some hot surfer boy bulge action. As I left the gym and walked out to my car, my shoulders slumped as the image of wet naked men fluttered away from my brain and was replaced with the awareness of two pimply fifteen year old boys ogl
My flesh erupted in goose pimples and I began to stammer stupidly but he put up one dirty hand to silence me. “Your mom has been after me for a long time to do this, and since you are gonna be gone in a couple months I want to at least send you off to college knowing that something isn’t sneaking up on us. If you won’t do it for yourself at least do it for your mom” he said sounding solemn and all knowing. “Dad, c’mon- can’t I get the physical once I get to school? Or if not that let mom’s doctor do it, mom says she is really nice” I said plaintively. “You are afraid to be seen naked by me, I know Amy, but this might surprise you, but you don’t have anything I haven’t seen before. This is what I do, and I am going to be the one giving you the physical” said daddy, his words now made of granite. I slumped my shoulders and stamped my feet wondering if I had I had sufficiently lost the argument. I rolled my eyes in over exaggerated agitation at the tweeting robins and blue jays that flit
I had been playing with fire for so long that I had assumed I would never get burned. But now, daddy and I were going somewhere I had never thought we would actually go. Of course I had fantasized and even planned it but now it was really happening. I could tell by his breathing that he was getting more and more turned on by the moment. Where would it end? Daddy wrapped his long fingers over my wrist of the arm that sought to conceal my tits while grabbing the hand that still caressed his thigh. He maneuvered my hands to the top of my head, one on top of the other. “I want you to keep these here until I tell you otherwise, do you understand baby?” he asked sensuously. “Yes ”I responded, now almost completely stripped for his inspection. Daddy found the underside of my tits and gently hefted them as if trying to guess their weight. His smooth hands felt amazing against my bare skin. His aftersha
My eyes desperately followed him. Daddy was really going to make me confess. Why had I gotten thisstupid tattoo in the first place! "Daddy don’t leave. Don’t leave, just wait. I’ll tell. I’ll tell you what the tattoo says” I conceded. “Well, what does it say?” he asked one more time as he brushed a stray strand of hair away from my eyes. It was one thing to show my daddy my pussy but now he was going to go even deeper than I thought anyone would ever go. “Daddy’s Pussy. The tattoo says Daddy’s Pussy” I confessed. The secret was gone and it felt like my body was suddenly filled with helium and that I would float away. Now there was nothing to do but wait for his reaction. His eyes went cold and the contours of his usually smiling mouth looked strange and stern. “Daddy’s Pussy?” he asked slowly. Did he hate me? Was he mad? Would he say that I had betrayed my mother by having designs on her husband? Would he blame me for the situation we were in? I could feel myself filling with molten
I felt my arousal slowly wrap around me like a vine and pull tight around me. He knelt in front of me and wrapped his arms around my waist, his cheek resting on my stomach. “I’m weak, Brandi. I told myself I needed to take this slow. Everything about you entices me. And now you tell me you’re a virgin? Am I hearing that right?” “Yes,” I whispered, swallowing hard. “Something about knowing that strikes me to the core. I can’t keep away from you. If you want to keep that intact, you need to leave right now.” He dropped his arms to his sides and looked up at me. I stepped back. I looked at him for a long time, then I picked up the sides of my dress and pulled it up over my head. My heart raced as his eyes ate me up. “Are you sure?” he whispered. “I’ve wanted you for a long time. Yes.” He didn’t hesitate. He lunged toward me, lifting himself off his knees and lifting me into his arms. I wrapped my legs around him as he kissed me deeply. His tongue danced with mine deliciously as he ca
Angelique angles her left breast to his mouth. The purplish tongue darts out, circling her nipple before he fixes his teeth on the tip and closes his lips around it. Angelique cries out, and again Ruiz makes as though to rise. “Wait,” I murmur, “wait.” Angelique lowers herself toward his cock. Still retaining the grip on her nipple, Hardwick pulls, painfully stretching her breast in a bestial tug-of-war. My entire body stiffens in anguished suspense as the tip of the phallus settles between her thighs. Hardwick gasps, releasing Angelique, as the poison I put on her nipple takes effect. Eyes widening until it appears they will pop from their sockets, his neck arches impossibly back. Foam bubbles to his lips and, with a cry of alarm, Angelique scrambles backward, losing her balance and falling before Ruiz can catch her. Attendants rush forward, screams break out around the room. I swiftly rise and shout for the guards stationed outside the door. No one stops us when we leave, although R
She pressed her mouth tightly closed. “Good. A little more,” Gustav said, his voice tight. She felt his hand burrow into her drawers, and let out a gasp. “Shh,” he said, laying his other, mechanical hand on the small of her back. “I’m just checking.” It was enough, she thought, to be lying half undressed in the crepuscular, squalid studio. Enough that she had shared her most shameful and abominable desires with him and found herself trapped in a cage of her own making. That he would now lay his hands on her— “Stop,” she said, suddenly. With no little difficulty, she pulled herself upright. Her bodice was awry and her clothes crumpled. Yet her defilement had not made her a mewling wreck, at least. A hot coal burned in her breast. This feeling was familiar. Violet was angry. “Sir,” she said. “This has gone far enough. I cannot tolerate you mocking me any longer.” Gustav stood, his face a mask. “I do not mock,” he said. “I came here,” Violet said, standing and pulling at her clothes, tr
Sam didn’t have a chance to respond immediately, because as I finished speaking we arrived at the section of the market that offered a huge variety of scavenged and spare parts for mechanisms such as the ones the girls at the workshop were busied with. He proved to be an extremely adept negotiator, bargaining prices with such an aptitude that I felt it only fair to compliment him on it as we began our walk back to the workshop, the new purchases stowed in a calico bag at my hip. “With a silver tongue like that, you should have been a politician,” I teased. Sam laughed. “I don’t like the current state of the world nearly well enough to want to go into politics. I can effect far more damage and change as a quasi-legal smuggler, I think.” I had to smile at that. “You’re probably right, yes.” “To return to earlier topics for a moment,” Sam said. “I’m going to be in the city for quite some time—if I can get approved for a permit, that is, though I have every confidence in your girls—and i
Describing the lab as an unmitigated disaster was an insult to actual disasters everywhere. The mess was contained to one small corner of a vast laboratory and was constrained to a black smudge against one wall and a pile of ashes that were scattered across the floor. “It doesn’t look like much,” Justin shrugged, “but I assure you, your knock probably saved my life. If I had been standing there, there wouldn’t be much of me left to have a conversation.” “See?” Eliza jiggled the auspiciometer at the end of its chain. “I’m quite timely.” “As usual,” Justin nodded. “My father mentioned you had a knack for being in the right place at the right time.” “The auspiciometer was a gift from my father. He invented it. I could use it to help you with—what were you doing before it exploded?” Eliza was intensely curious. “I’ve never had an experiment fail—” “Quite so dramatically?” Justin interrupted. He scrubbed one hand across his chin, leaving a charcoal smear. “At all.” “Never?” Eliza nodded ab
As I loosened my corset, wishing it were Benedict tugging free the ties, I found myself envying Thomas and Jessamine. I’d taken a lover when I first went to university, and another soon after, but since entering the business partnership with Benedict, I’d had no one. Which was silly. I had to stop pining for him and get on with my life. But the séance had made me a bit maudlin and the sherry I sipped while I removed my layers and slipped into my nightclothes made me decide to indulge in my fantasies one last time. I lay back on the pillows, my fingers plucking at the budded peaks of my breasts beneath my white nightdress. The pressure of the corset always made them sensitive. I cupped the heaviness of my breasts, stroking the tips with my thumbs, wishing it were Benedict’s slender fingers performing the task. I imagined him leaning over me, murmuring in that low voice about how they pressed, reddened, against the cotton. I licked my thumbs and repeated the motions while in my mind’s e
She stroked his lean thigh through his trousers, then allowed her hand to creep upward. Pete groaned into her mouth as she cupped the substantial bulge she discovered in his groin. He wore no undergarments. The bulb nestled in her palm, quivering and damp, while she ran her thumb around the ridge. He tensed, thrusting into her fist. Under the fabric, his prick felt hard and smooth as polished river stones. It was long and slender, as exotic as the rest of him. His lips slid away from hers to nuzzle the sensitive skin below her ear. Her heart fluttered against her stays. Her cunny throbbed, wet and hungry. His cat tongue swirled across her throat while underneath his hand groped blindly, seeking a way into her knickers. “Oh, Caroline,” he breathed, rocking against her hand while fumbling with her petticoats. “That’s marvelous! But these bloody skirts…” “Shall we retire to your room, then? I should very much like to remove them.” “Indeed, a capital notion…” With some difficulty, they un
My coat hung on a hook near the bureau, with my crinoline next to it. I had on only the velvet of my dress over the cream-white of my slip. I hadn’t been this naked in front of a man since the last time I saw him. He’d loosened the lacing on my corset. I could breathe. I sat up, and my hair fell around my shoulders. He’d freed it from its pinned curls. I combed it with my fingers. “Were you planning to take advantage of me?” “If I were, I wouldn’t have left your dress on.” He filled with water two chipped vases that had belonged to his late grandmother. “You wouldn’t have been able to sleep in your coat.” I recognized things from where he had last lived, where I had lived with him for a few months. The railroad pocket watch his grandfather had given him was on the bureau. The lamp gave off an apricot glow I knew by heart. I remembered the rosewood table where he set the vases. But this was somewhere else. It was far enough out in the country to see the mesas, instead of right in the c
The professor had asked Lady Portway to ensure he had access to a gramophone. He placed the needle on the cylinder and set the mechanism running. The strains of a Viennese waltz filled the air and, as we had practiced briefly among the clutter of the workshop in the small hours of the morning, Abel and I danced. He led, I followed, moving in a sure-footed rhythm across the drawing room f loor. What little we’d heard of Strondheim’s creation suggested his movements were jerky, betraying his mechanical origins. Abel glided, an intricate network of precision mechanisms working to create the illusion that he lived and breathed. Whatever the assembled guests had been expecting, it was surely not such a lighthearted display. The professor might envisage his automata as beasts of burden, fetching and carrying, but it did not mean they couldn’t be companions, too. The music came to a halt. Abel bowed and I curtseyed. Then we were enveloped in a crowd, Lady Portway’s guests keen to learn more
My body heats all the way through—all the way from my too-red face, right down to the tips of my toes. I can feel each finger he’s touching exactly, and when he moves closer to me I do what I would never dare to in real life. I sway closer to him, as though we’re magnets and metal. As though I cannot help it, and I suppose that is true. I cannot. I want to edge closer to him, and feel every word he speaks with that mean mouth—because he says so little and yet I am certain he says so much. He is the ghost who tries to speak without a mouth, he is the center of my maze, the gleaming spire, oh, lord why am I thinking any of this? Perhaps he is making me, I consider—yes, perhaps. It could be that the very purpose of his machine is to fit strange images and fantasies into a young woman’s mind, then have his wicked way with her. And yet I do not believe so, I cannot believe so, it could not be true, could it? What, by god, would a man like him ever want with a woman like me? And he would ne