= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = A short story about what really goes on upstairs at Jack’s Place. Be careful going upstairs at Jack’s Place. You may not be able to handle “the real stuff.” And no one will believe you afterwards. = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = * * * * * * * * * * * * ...
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = Gloria has a different interpretation of The Forbidden Book What would you do if you knew that a book that everyone else thought was mindless pornography was actually a communications handbook? If you ain’t a Sci-Fi Geek, you ain’t going to like this one. Mild erotica, but very interesting Sci-Fi concept. ...
(story continues from The Process 7.1: Nanny & the Suit) This story contains elements of an adult nature. If you are not 18 or stumbled upon this by accident, please move along as there is nothing to see here. Those that are of age, please enjoy. Story contains Magic, Body mod, BE, Penis growth, Living Latex doll, Living latex suit, Automaton, Maid, Preg BDSM, Multiple gender roles. story continues from part 8 ...
She could not move. She wanted to. But could not. The blindfold and muzzle. The tightness of the mummy like bag that held her limbs. All suppressed her desire to be free. A light came on seeping through the blindfold. “Good morning Ms. Lake.” said a voice she despised. Simon. Cerebral Simon. “MffT” “Yes. I Know. But you are recovering. Well some say it is recovering. Your hate of me is the last shred of defenses you have left. In fact I wanted to start the day a little early.” ...
Another Saturday night, and Sandy was bored. It had been nearly a year since Paul had gone from her life, leaving her alone in their remote Vermont farmhouse. It had been what she wanted; he didn’t contest her terms for their divorce. But after a year of loneliness and boredom, with little more than the television to distract her, she was getting a little antsy. They had both worked for a big computer company near Boston, where they first met and fell in love. Luck was with them, and they cashed out right at the crest of the dot-com fiasco before it all went bust. Flush with cash, they decided to “get away from it all” and buy a place in rural Vermont, far away from the hustle and hype. They found a cozy house on an old farm that was an hour’s drive from the nearest town. Perfect! They said farewell to their friends in Boston, packed everything up and headed north. And that’s where the trouble began. Alone with only one another for company, the flaws and mismatches in their relationship began to surface. At first they set it all aside, throwing themselves into modernizing the house with vigor. But once they had finished they had nothing else to do and began a slow decline. Within a year they realized the mistake they had made and divorced by mutual consent. As far as divorces go, it was relatively civil and drama-free. Paul had taken his half of things and moved back to Boston. Sandy decided to hang onto the house and land and make a home for herself. Not wanting to go to seed, she kept her figure trim with daily walks in the woods or on the treadmill in the basement. And she filled her time with small projects in and around the house. But the months passed slowly in her mostly-empty house and no one made the trek to her remote hideaway to see her. She was starting to regret her decision and in desperate need of a change. Her choices were few. She could make the effort to visit either Boston or Montreal for a while. But that meant a long drive and spending cash. She didn’t mind the drive; she was always the type who enjoyed long, rambling excursions to new and exciting places. Money was another issue; finances were getting tight, and jobs were few in this part of the woods. So that left her with the other, all too familiar option of a weekend with her television. She had just settled down in front of the tube with a bowl of microwave popcorn when a sound like a derailing freight train came crashing out of the nearby woods. Startled from her torpor, Sandy jumped to her feet and ran to the window. The sound was echoing off through the woods, and in the distance she could see a bright bluish glow, intense at first but fading as she watched. Thinking that an airplane may have crash-landed, she grabbed her coat and a flashlight and ran out the door. Dashing across the field towards the wood’s edge, Sandy saw the silhouette of a person stumbling towards her through the trees. “Hang on, I’m coming!” she shouted as she ran, hoping the dazed person was not badly injured. Medical services were a long, long drive away. When she reached the wood, Sandy saw that the person before her was a petite woman of her size, an unmistakable fact despite her full-face helmet, considering the skintight flight suit she was wearing. Sandy got to her just as the pilot collapsed. Catching her as she fell, she supported her as best she could and began moving back towards the house. “Are you all right? Was there anyone else on the plane? Don’t worry, we’ll call for help when we get inside.” The pilot attempted a reply, but seemed to speak in gibberish. The opaque, full-coverage flight helmet didn’t help matters. “She’s out of it”, thought Sandy. “I hope she doesn’t have a concussion!” They made it back to the house in a few minutes. Sandy brought her into the bedroom and laid her down on the bed. Despite the seriousness of the situation, Sandy couldn’t help but notice the attractive shape of her charge’s body, or the way her flight suit added to her attractiveness. But such thoughts would have to wait; the pilot was in obvious distress, holding her gloved hands on her lower torso and moaning in pain. “Hang on, let me help you”, said Sandy as she reached to remove her helmet. This seemed to add to the pilot’s distress but Sandy was having none of it. This was the most unusual helmet Sandy had ever seen; it was a blank, featureless oval of shiny black, and covered her entire head and neck, apparently made of two pieces of some hard substance that fit together seamlessly. Feeling around for a latch, she found two small buttons protruding on either side of the neck. Pressing both in at once split the helmet apart. Sandy lifted the front of the helmet and nearly jumped out of her skin at what she saw. It was a woman’s face, with an elegant shape and high cheekbones. But her skin was ashen, almost a reflective silver; her eyes large, almond shaped and entirely black; her nose unusually thin, as were her lips; and her head entirely without hair. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to realize that the crash was a UFO, and this woman its alien pilot. “D’ghosh phangla?” the pilot said in between gasps of breath. “I-I-I-” was all Sandy could manage. Seeing the problem, the pilot raised her hand and rested her fingertips on Sandy’s forehead. There was a brief flash, and the pilot lowered her hand and spoke again. “Do you understand me now?” “…yes. Yes! Omigod, how did you do that?” “A talent. Where am I? What planet is this?” “You’re an alien! You’re from outer space! I don’t believe this!” Sandy’s excitement was tempered a bit when she saw the pain return to the pilot’s face, and she tried to compose herself. “This is Earth. Third planet from the sun. You landed in the woods near my house, which is in Vermont, which is in the United States of America. Close to Canada!” “I see. And you are…?” “Sandy! Sandy Bright. I live here. Obviously. Oh, never mind! Who are you!?” “I am called Penque. I was scouting for mineral deposits in this system when something went wrong and my ship’s systems began to fail. This appeared to be the only inhabited planet in the area, so I tried to land and effect repairs. But something happened when I entered your atmosphere; the ship experienced a system-wide failure. The landing was less than perfect.” “Wow! Was anyone else on your ship?” “No, it is a small scout vessel. I usually have a co-pilot, but this was meant to be an easy assignment.” This brought a smile to Penque’s lips, but it was quickly replaced by a spasm of pain. Sandy got worried. “Hey, you’re hurt pretty badly. I should call a doctor.” “No! You must not alert anyone to my presence! I am in this system without the proper authority. To do so could jeopardize my mission, not to mention my life!” Penque reached up as she said this, inviting another round of grimacing and spasms. “But you’re hurt! You might die!” “My injuries are not as severe as you imagine. The flight suit I am wearing has already diagnosed my condition and is affecting repairs. I should be out of danger in a few strohms.” “Your…suit?” Sandy’s eyes again drifted down to the glossy black covering Penque’s entire body. “Yes, the suit and helmet are an integrated unit. They monitor my condition at all times, and work to protect me from injury or infection. It is essential to one in my profession.” Penque looked at her quizzically. “I take it your planet has not yet developed such technology?” Sandy was a bit distracted by the sight of Penque’s suit-encased chest rising and falling. “Not that I know of.” “Mm. I see.” Penque paused, thinking. “If it is all right with you, I should rest for a while. Would you mind closing my helmet for me? It needs to be worn correctly for everything to function properly.” “Sure, okay. Do you want me to bring you anything? Some water?” “Thank you, perhaps later. For now, I need to rest. Promise me you will not tell anyone of my presence here? Please?” She reached out and took Sandy’s hand in hers; the warm, smooth feel of it sent a strange excitement through Sandy’s body. “I won’t tell a soul, I promise. If you need me, I’ll be in the other room.” “Thank you. Now, if you would…” Penque made a slight motion towards the top of her helmet. “Yeah, sure.” Sandy reached up and gently pressed down the front of the helmet, her eyes never leaving those of her guest until the smooth oval obscured them from view. With a soft click, the helmet was back in place, and Penque seemed to relax and breath a bit deeper. Sandy stood up and went to the bedroom door, turning off the light as she turned in the doorway to linger upon the glistening, sensual form stretched out on her bed, still visible as it reflected the moonlight from the window. With a bit of effort, she tore herself away and shut the door. ...
(story continues from The Process 7: New Additions) This story contains elements of an adult nature. If you are not 18 or stumbled upon this by accident, please move along as there is nothing to see here. Those that are of age, please enjoy. Story contains Magic, Body mod, BE, Penis growth, Living Latex people, Maid, Preg, Lactation, BDSM, Multiple gender roles. story continues from part 7.1 The Process: Part 8: Rubber Colony ...