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All my stories were stripped from my name so I am reposting them. Feel free to comment or rate again. I have made some minor edits from the original.

The better part of this was actually a recent dream that I thought was worth remembering. That being said, even though it is sexual, it isn’t a typical sex story. In fact I think it reads much more like a horror or melodrama. Either way I didn’t want to lose it from my mind. Please remember this is a dream, so in that some portions are going to seem unreasonably weird. I have taken a few liberties with it to make it flow as a story should, connecting otherwise disjointed ideas or story lines, introduction of proper nouns, addition of certain details to make it more appropriate for this venue, the necessities to make it readable. But I have done my best to keep its distortion to what I consider a minimal.


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Let me start by telling you about Launa. For all intents and purposes Launa is me. She isn’t me in the sense that I live inside her skin and make her decisions for her. But she is made of the same essence as I am. I know her every thought, her every emotion, every whim, need, and lust, regardless if I am with her physically. She is my lover. And despite knowing everything a person could possibly know even about themselves, she still carries a mystique with me. She is very tall, eye level for me, which makes her too tall for a woman by the standards of most; many men despise having to look up to a mate. But I find her height perfect for me. It is so easy for me to get lost in her deep blue eyes, listening to her thoughts, feeling her as an unrivaled compliment to myself. Her hair is made of dark red spirals that reflect both her excitement and danger to me. That life in her is after all also that life in me, and I adore that aspect of her. She is too thin for average taste, mine also for that matter. Had she been anyone else, without her completeness I wouldn’t have given her a second look based on this. But for her it is worn so beautifully. She doesn’t seem to move like people move. Rather than a series muscle contractions that will accomplish her desired task, her movements just seem to flow from her acutely deliberate desires. There is never the slightest hint of an extraneous or unconscious movement on any inch of her body. At any instant in time if you were to paint her portrait, you would have guessed that there was no better pose, and she could have never have been more intimate or more flattering.

There is also Ellie, and Ellie is such a gift to me. She too is every bit as much a part of me as Launa; but she carries a uniquely different role as part of our whole. She isn’t my daughter in the sense that I feel Launa is her mother, by this I mean your standard biologic definition. But then again there is no such male figure for her. Launa is her sole parent by classical definition, a result of parthenogenesis if you will. But she is again my very essence and my daughter in every other possible sense. The prepubescent little angel’s hair is very strait and very black; much shorter than her mother’s at only shoulder length. Her pale blue eyes look so beautiful but so sad. Even when she is happy, it makes me emotional just to look into them. It is clear that they hold much more behind them than people would expect from the small frame. Her thoughts and emotions are as developed as that of any adult. Yet her child-like charms and fancies are present, and they pull at me no less. One of her childish qualities that I adore is her love for her pet. She has spider that plays the role of her best friend, her favorite toy, and her own child. Her relationship with her spider is every bit as developed as one could expect between two people, and I do so enjoy the vicarious pleasure that I get through her from it.

We live on an upper level floor, expansive in its own right. There is a single stone fireplace at the center of one wall and a single window on another. The floors are a rich light wood with beautiful texture and grain. The walls and ceilings are in fact the same thing; the wooden planks arch together to form a pinnacle in the center of the room. It looks much like living in a nicely polished attic, except there is no feeling that there is anything odd about it.

The scene starts as Launa gets dressed in a stunning red sequined gown. It is sheer dress that barely hangs from her small breast; it almost appears as if it is held up by her nipples alone. But as always, there isn’t the slightest hint of error or uncertainty about her. She knows that the provocative little piece will always wear just exactly as she wants it to. She is ready to leave. She knows I will not be coming, she didn’t need to ask. Tonight for her is a hunt, and my presence would likely interfere with her nefarious intentions. So she approaches me with a fierce open mouthed embrace. As she bites my tongue, my lips, and my neck, my hands admire her body that is so irresistible to me. Feeling her small breast and bullet like nipples through the thin material makes me grow hard, and her long thin fingers make sure to acknowledge that fact. But we know this is just a tease; there is much to be built upon tonight.

As she leaves I turn my focus to Ellie, who though obviously very happy playing with her spider ask me to join her. Of course I sit down beside her on the floor, pushing back her hair away from her face so I could more marvel at her beauty. I feel so happy and sad while looking at her, either way it feels so good just to be with her. We play games like make believe and fetch with a tiny piece of paper and her spider. But it isn’t long until I am becoming more aware of Launa.

Launa has made her way into the party; a rather overly sophisticated and pompous environment by my own standards. It is quite a grand house and very self indulgent; I don’t think that would have struck me so bitterly had it not been for the required level of reserve to accompany such a place. Her elegance fit it beautifully though. But we know she isn’t there for your standard social call. She is much more like little Ellie’s black widow who gives the image of being something like her mate. She flows about the large house taking in the idle chatter and great art as she passes. Suddenly, like a breaking tide she slows for some voices from across the room. She picks up on a small group of guys engaged in a competition of braggart style propositions. She turns her head to catch the eye of one the men, and hold it. For three seconds he doesn’t speak, he doesn’t blink; he just stares across the room into her eyes.

Then Launa turns and walks on, she has set the bait for The Mark. The men continue to talk, and the proposition that should have been out of earshot, is not so for Launa. The Mark boasts to his friends that he will have her. He is so confident, so egotistical, and so delightfully perfect for the game. With that Launa continues her stride to the balcony with The Mark psychologically en tow. As she slows to the ledge she is met by the pseudo-friendly voice.

“I will have to say that I don’t know that I have ever seen anyone that could claim my attention quite like you just did.” He says with a great smile that looks practiced for sincerity.

“Forgive me, I didn’t mean to stare. You looked busy and I….” Launa replies with an equal measure of feigned sincerity.

Interrupting The Mark replies, “You need not worry about that, there is just something about you that told me I needed to speak to you right now; sort of like I was meant to. Do you ever get that feeling?”

With a patently calculated glance to the ground before eying the sky, Launa’s act continues “All the time. I can’t imagine all the beautiful order out there without thinking there must be some place for each of us in it also; something other than the rational.”

“A fan of the stars? Me too. Why do you think they have the phrase ‘star crossed lovers?’ The statement itself implies that there are lovers out there that the stars are aligned for.”

“I like that………You seem like a very easy person to talk to.”

They continue on, for some great length. The stars, the paintings, the guests, stories about family members, stories about old lovers; at every turn Launa lays the bait of seeded conversation and The Mark indulges in the elaborate aggrandizement of his own wit. In a few hours he is utterly convinced that she is absolutely fawning over him.

The Mark finally stands close and places his arm around her waist to whisper in her ear, “I am so glad I met you tonight.”

“I don’t want to go home alone tonight…………Can I come with you?” She replies with impeccable candor.

“Absolutely. Shall we make our way?”

“But didn’t you say your brother was here with you? I know family is as important to you as it is to me, and I would feel horrible if he was left without a ride because of me.” Launa poses.

Not being the least bit suspicious, The Mark replies. “It is no worry he can find his own way.”

“I insist we give him a ride, it would be unconscionable to me otherwise” she says with such direct eyes and tone that he is unable to consider any other alternative.

With that the three leave. The seemingly innocent surface conversations to the brother’s house revolve entirely around Launa learning just how close they actually are, what they had been through together, how much they mean to one another. But as soon as the brother was dropped off the reconnaissance is complete. Launa grabs The Mark by the hair and thrust her tongue into his mouth. Her hand reaches for his crotch and his for her breast.

After a brief feel she pulls her head away and orders, “Hurry up and drive.”

As he places the car in gear she undoes his pants, pulling his swollen cock out and into full view. It looks so very large next to her incredibly thin fingers. She slides her fingers across its surface with the inhumanly fluid and deliberate motion characteristic of all her actions. She then intentionally lets slide the most devilish of smiles. She knows this first glimpse at sincerity would most definitely be misinterpreted, and she likes the idea of knowing she has given it to him and he is incapable of acting on it. With that she drops her head into his lap and takes his throbbing member between her lips. The strong suck exhibited is paired with a gentle rocking of her head reminiscent of an intensely mellow song. It is pure sensuousness and elegance as only she is capable. Pulling into his driveway, she presses the tip of her tongue to his leaking hole so that the most artistic string of body fluids is drawn between them.

Just as the front door shuts she pins him to the wall. His button down shirt is torn open and her tongue is in his throat. With a twist of her shoulders her thin red dress falls from her freely. She is beautiful. The naked slender powerful figure forcefully unfastens The Mark’s belt and pants without her ever freeing his mouth for him to breath. As soon as the two bodies are both naked, eclipsing the light from window, she throws him to the floor.

She straddles his cock, gasping as it penetrates her. She rides him like a whirlwind. She is dancing upon his cock with all the fury and grace of tempest. Her fluid yet unpredictable flails are accented by her arms, and more particularly her nails that thrash in lovely successive motions. Catching his chest again and again, time after time her claws tear tiny lines in his skin. I know the sensation well; he is most certainly going to feel a great pain from the wounds later, but right now the delightful sting is just fuel for the entirety of the sensation that is to fuck Launa.

I have the slightest hint of jealousy but I know well the game; I know this is something I will suffer for the greater of the whole. I take some comfort in that I know her intimacy with him is not the same intimacy that she has with me. It is mimicry, an especially elaborate one but mimicry none the less. It is no secret between us however that she enjoys what she is doing. For her this isn’t just necessary foreplay; she is an actress that loves her character and loves her role. And why should I deny her that? There is too much love between us and too much happiness to be wrought through her play for me to get hung up such trivial sentimentality. Just as I know her every thought she also knows mine, so that is where the conflict ends and we accept it for what it is.

As his breaths become more belabored, Launa bears down. She digs her fingers into his chest, making handles for which she can grip. Her thrashing takes on a more regular pattern. Her hips roll forward and back on him like crashing waves. Her newfound rhythm hasn’t lost any passion; it is simply honing in to force his cum from him. The minor screams he has released up to this point don’t compare to those from his present state. As his cock begins pumping inside her he lets out the most guttural tone that he has likely ever released in his life. Throwing her head back, Launa joins him with the wail of siren. Together the cries create a melody in my ears; a harmonious clash of pleasure and pain. There couldn’t be a more satisfying tone.

She bites at his lip as she raises her hips from his still swollen cock. Sitting beside him, she first grazes his wounds with her fingers while tracing her way down to his prick. Her tongue then follows; not ignoring a single scratch, not one torn bit of flesh is left unattended. It stings him greatly but as he tries to cry out she drives two fingers into his mouth. He bites down on them trying to take the focus away from the pain of her tonguing his exposures. Her mouth finally reaches his still pulsing cock. With her mouth she delivers a short series of invaginations before standing to take in the sight of him.

“Stay just where you are.” She says as if he really had a choice. “I can show myself out.”
He is drained both physically and mentally. At the point of exhaustion, he was likely not even capable of thought. There was a rapid beat in his chest and a hard rising and falling, but his vacant face looked dead.

Replacing her gown on her lovely figure she coyly exclaims “I will see you soon.”

Phase two was complete but we were far from done. In fact our complex little game had just begun. It was now time to make another late night call: The brother’s house was the next destination of the night, and though no one would have ever thought it, he will be getting off easy. He is a peripheral, just an extension of The Mark as far as we are concerned. And we are far from done with The Mark.

Launa arrives with such a cool and collected manner that I admire in the face of my own eager anticipation. The brother, though quite surprised by his awakening, doesn’t take long before he invites Launa in; as if he ever had any choice.

“Hi…What’s going on? Is everything ok?” He asks upon opening the door.

“Couldn’t be better. I need to see you.” Launa replies with a smile that is so beatific yet so devious.

“Please come in.”

The scene unfolds with splendid duplicity. Just as the front door shuts she pins him to the wall. His night shirt is torn open and her tongue is in his throat. With a twist of her shoulders her thin red dress falls from her freely. The naked slender powerful figure forcefully tears his boxers without her ever freeing his mouth for him to breath. As soon as the two bodies are both naked, eclipsing the light from window, she throws him to the floor.

Like his brother, she straddles him, but this time without the same level of reserve. This fuck is much more violent, much less controlled. The tearing of her nails into his skin is much deeper, deep enough that it overshadows the normal pleasure he would be getting from his cock pierced in her delicious cunt. With a shocked scream he tries to throw her from him. Looking at the two one might guess it a simple task, but he finds himself unable. After all she is not just her, she is me, or at least has me in her. Her expressions of delight in his torment are now fully loosed; she knows he has reached a point from which he can’t return. She leaps from his cock, pinning his arms to the ground with her feet. She holds his head in her hands as she licks his face. Her extremely long, extremely thin features look inhuman perched as she is. She is like a praying mantis preparing to devour the head of her mate. And devour she does. She sinks her teeth into his flesh, again and again into his face and his throat. While not actually eating his flesh she is readily consuming the gushing blood. The whole while, her cunt is leaving streaks on his chest where her wetness is rubbing up against him. Her thumbs find his eyes and bury themselves entirely. His screams fade with his struggling. Thus concludes the scene, but not the plan for sensation.

Launa and I are now present at the funeral, and this is where we expect the pinnacle of the passion to be laid out. Death has such a way of binding people together by some sort of hyperactivity of our human emotions. Funerals are not for the dead after all, they are for the living, and we planned to drink it in heavily. Many of the speakers are too weak for my taste. Different people grieve in different ways but I find the caricature’s commonly expressed by many people to be particularly lame. Based on these obligatory speeches, one might conclude the deceased was a work of fiction created for a Sunday morning cartoon. This is not what we are here for.

But as The Mark begins to speak there is an instant surge within us. This is unmistakable true feeling. His unashamed weeping and deeply contorted face are just the physical manifestations of what is really going on inside. He is a wreck. He doesn’t describe his brother with the same silly clich?that many of the others used, instead he truly breaks down. He speech is a speech of personal loss; his reflection that he had lost a part of himself. There will never be anything to replace what he had spent his entire life building emotion into, and we are watching the culmination and explosion of those emotions. He has never been so far from his baseline; no orgasm, no pill, no line has ever made him feel anything remotely as powerful as what he feels right now. We feel so fortunate to experience this intensity vicariously through him. Even though our tag along emotions clearly pale to his, his emotions are so powerful that they still pull us into a much heightened state.

After the completion of the formalities we wish a single acknowledgment before we take our leave. Some part of the ego begs it of us. It just wouldn’t feel complete if we didn’t. Through the crowd Launa locks eyes with The Mark. She delivers an evil smile, and we disappear into the crowd.

Launa and I quickly find ourselves alone and we are quite ravenous. My hands grip her hair as she takes my face in hers. Our deep kisses foreshadow the more visceral acts to follow. I take her ass into my hands, spreading her cheeks as I bite into her neckline, breaking the skin. Her nails tear their way down my chest as she finds my erect cock. Her firm grip is so delightfully painful on my shaft. She returns the gesture of tearing into my neck with her teeth as she forces me inside of her. She claws at my back as I thrust inside of her with an absolute delight. Soon, she hooks her legs around me and throws her head back. Her hands dig into my collar so she can support herself. I watch as her small breast and exquisite nipples bounce in front of me. For an instant I feel at one. But I am suddenly overcome by a horrible shock.

It is Ellie. We were too cocky with The Mark and he knew the score. He had found her. He was at our house. I take off running at blinding speeds to get back. I am tearing through everything in my way, people and trees alike were thrashed aside as I cut my path to her. But he was going to have his time, I couldn’t stop that.

It seems he had been a very quick study, because he knew the value of vicarious harm and elaborate planning. Instead of directly harming Ellie he forces her to watch as he takes her spider. Knowing how much it means to her and her to me, he forces poison upon it. It stumbles about in obvious pain and disorientation. Ellie cries aloud, tears streaming from her face as she watches in horror at the suffering of her closest friend. As I run I too cry. Tears streak sideways on my face as I rush to meet them. After all her pain was my pain, I feel it every bit as real as if I were her.

I finally arrive and he is not in sight. Ellie is holding her spider in her hands wailing. I quickly kneel around her holding her as closely as I can. I love her so much and it pains me that she is so sad. We sit for minutes as I try to calm her. It then occurs to me that I can fix it. I can save her spider with the essence that runs between Launa and Ellie and me. I gently take the spider in my hands and place it to an open wound on my chest. The dying spider latches on to me. Just as I thought, my essence empowers it. It starts to come round much to the delight of both Ellie and I. We are so happy that we were able to save such a dear friend, but I know it is now time to bring our game to an end. The Mark has gone beyond the stage of being toyed with, I have to end him.

As soon as I am sure that Ellie is contented, I take off in search of The Mark with an insatiable fury. It has been to my peril that I had underestimated him once and foolishly I do it again. Once I have made great distance, scanning for him in my enraged state, he reveals himself again. He reveals himself through Ellie. He is still with her!

She cowers in terror of the menacing figure. Her spider now revived and wary attacks him. But its bite does something I didn’t expect and couldn’t have been more terrified by. It passes my essence on to him. I am now one with him, and through him have I never felt so much self loathing. I have harmed him and he knew it, and now he would hurt himself more than any man ever would just to get back at me. He grabbed Ellie, now fully prepared to take his own plan to the next phase. At that moment I lost my visual of them; I am too overwhelmed. I simply can’t bear to watch. Every time he hurts her it hurts himself, but the damage is magnified in me. I have never experienced the level of horror and impotence that I feel by not being able to help her. Though not seeing his actions, my heart is very much aware of every injury inflicted upon her.

When I finally break through the door, my face is stained with tears and stretched to immobility by my rage. He is standing over her, waiting, staring. She lies lifeless with her chest split open at his feet. Her tiny broken ribs are sticking out in various directions like steeples after an earthquake. Her sad face is still wet with tears and blood but her mouth is shut as in acceptance of her fate.

It only takes a second before I fly at him, smashing into the wall. He is much stronger than I would expect, I know it is because he is now part of me. We exchange punch after punch. The skin my knuckles quickly tear as they repeatedly find their way to his face. His fingers start to pierce my skin as if he will simply rip my entrails from me. In no time we are both quite ragged and bloody. In the end he can’t overpower me. On top of him I take his head into my hands and slam it to the floor. With every successive slam I am killing him, but I am also killing a part of me. I can feel his skull giving way. Each slam brings his choking and spiting head a bit closer to even with the floor. I continue until there isn’t enough left to pick up and his head is all but a pile of blood and goo.

My rage is soon sated, my enemy is no more. But he has hurt me; I have hurt me beyond repair. I once again kneel by Ellie. I cradle her head in my hands and press mine to hers. As I cry over my lovely little girl the sequence ends.
3 comments

Lady DeathReport

2008-06-18 01:21:38
That was incredible. Dreams are so fascinating.

Perv79Report

2008-06-12 12:49:28
I hadn't really though about a part 2. Like I prefaced this was actually a dream I had. So in a way, the me that put the words down was a ghost writer for my subconscious. If I made a part two it would be more of a conscious effort and as such not really as "pure."

Anonymous readerReport

2008-06-09 01:47:40
this a great and sad story, if there is a part two cant wait for it

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