Midnight Visit
You're in bed. You can't sleep. You have a big day at work tomorrow, you're gonna finally move up the corporate ladder, and you're too excited thinking about it to sleep, so you've been up preparing your presentation.
You turn on the television. It's the news. Another creature has gone missing. That makes the fourth missing creature this week.
I saw him leaving with some big monster-looking thing, says some fox that lives in the neighborhood.
It was aliens, says another. Beamed him up and they was gone, I saw the whole thing.
We will continue to update our viewers as information becomes available.
You cycle through the channels. Fashion show. MTV. Fresh Prince. Commercial. Crap. Crap. Crap. You're back to the news. They're talking about a celebrity that died three months ago that you never liked that nobody wants to shut up about. He's dead. Get over it.
You turn off the television. You lie your head down on the pillows and close your eyes, hoping you'll fall asleep. Don't think about all the ways you can screw up tomorrow. Think happy thoughts. Bowling. Bowling's a happy thought.
You had just bowled your fourth strike in a row when a clatter wakes you. You raise your head and look toward the bedroom door. No more sounds. Maybe it was a dream. Or a cat. Or the wind. Never mind that there are no cats in this place. Or anywhere for the wind to get through. That's what it was.
You'd just convinced yourself that all was well when the door bursts open. Your first thought is to turn on the light for some reason. Standing there is an impossibly large scaly thing. You don't know how to classify him. He looks like a large wingless dragon. He's wearing a shell with many large, pointed spikes at the end. His hair is fiery red. His huge muscles ripple with veins all along his body.
He steps into your room. You notice a strange smell getting stronger as the intruder gets closer. You can't identify it, but something about it smells familiar. You almost like it.
He's standing by your bed now. His head almost reaches the ceiling. His waist comes up to the top of your bed, and you can now see his genitals. An emerging penis in front of the biggest testicles you've ever seen -- not that you've seen many testicles, but you at least have an idea of their general size, and these are hella bigger. Even his balls had muscles. The smell, coming from his arousal, you realize, has reached an intoxicating level. You find it harder to think clearly.
You should run. It's obvious what he wants from you. But you can't. No longer out of fear, but something else. Desire? No, that can't be. You're straight. Even if you weren't, surely you wouldn't want to be assraped by a dick the width of your fist and the length of your arm. But your own erect member is starting to say otherwise.
The smell is so strong now. It's almost all you can think about. His cock still isn't erect yet â€" it keeps getting bigger. You try to wonder how much blood it takes to pump such an organ, but you just stare. A small stream of pre begins to leak from the tip, emitting such a strong smell of arousal that you don't even notice yourself licking the massive shaft until you taste the salty fluid on your tongue.
The turtle-dragon-creature-thing bucks his hips. His cock gets all over your face. Pre dribbles out onto your cheeks, your nose, your chin. You try to keep it out of your eyes, you turn away out of pure instinct, but now your face is wet. His cock is erect now.
Drink it. You barely hear the order. You shouldn't, you know you shouldn't, and still a small part of you is screaming to run, but the smell from the precum all over your face drowns out that voice, and you obey. You take the massive shaft in your mouth and suck as much pre as you can, drinking what you get, pausing every few minutes to lick your lips. Your desire to obey this creature surpasses everything, your job, your life, nothing is as important as obeying.
Yes. Suck it.
You obey.
Lick it.
You obey.
Swallow it.
You obey.
Worship it.
You obey.
The more you obey, the easier it is, the fainter the voice urging you to run becomes. You're vaguely aware that you're ejaculating, but that doesn't matter now; nothing matters but that giant twitching cock.
Then the moment you've been desiring your entire life arrives: the great, throbbing shaft explodes, cum filling your mouth and throat so fast you can't swallow it all, so you take out the cock and aim it at your face, letting the warm jizz spray you and mark you as his property.
Yes, obey me, make me stronger. . .
The cock throbs hard in your hands, and again, and you see that with every throb it grows bigger than ever. The creature's muscles grow, expand; he clutches himself in a self hug as his arms, legs, neck, everything grows. His balls drop further, his waist is now about two feet higher than your bed, and he has to duck to keep from hitting the ceiling. His entire body is covered in throbbing veins that course some unknown power through him.
He cums again. A flood of semen greater than the one you just experienced covers your bed and body. You drink what you can catch. Covered in cum, bathed in his scent, you submit entirely to his whim.
He's no longer growing. A look of powerful satisfaction crosses his face.
Cum-hungry slut.
Yes, I love your cum. Nothing else can satisfy my hunger.
Join my other cock slaves.
Yes, my master, I want to be your cock slave, it's all I've ever wanted.
You get out of bed and follow your new master on all fours, naked, semen running down your body, just trying to get a lick of your master's ass or balls as he knocks over the presentation you prepared.