Goblin Market

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Goblin Market 2005 Copyright © 2005 Ann Vremont ISBN: 1-55410-590-0 Cover art and design by Ann Vremont All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher. Published by eXtasy Books, a division of Zumaya Publications, 2005 Look for us online at: www.zumayapublications.com www.extasybooks.com

“D

id you miss me? Come and kiss me. Never mind my bruises, Hug me, kiss me, suck my juices Squeezed from goblin fruits for you, Goblin pulp and goblin dew. Eat me, drink me, love me; Laura, make much of me: For your sake I have braved the glen And had to do with goblin merchant men.” “The Goblin Market,” Christina Rossetti (1862)

Ann Vremont

Chapter One rancesca Schiavo stood behind the couch in her

Fliving room. The lights throughout the condo were turned off, the only illumination coming from the flicker of a horror DVD playing on the television. Her fiancé, Mike, was stretched across the couch, a stadium blanket covering his lower body. A shadow among shadows, she could see the bulk of one hand covering his crotch. “You’re not touching yourself, are you?” she teased softly. Mike jumped to a sitting position and placed the hand that had been under the blanket across his chest. Taking in a deep, shaky breath, he turned to her. “God, Frankie, you scared the shit out of me!” Francesca moved around the couch, her gaze on the set as she threaded her way through the shoes and bags on the floor. Studiously avoiding a glance in his direction, she sat down next to him and picked up a bowl of popcorn from the floor. Tucking her legs beneath her, she continued ignoring him and stared at the television. He put an arm around her shoulder and took a handful of popcorn. 1

Goblin Market 2005 “I didn’t hear you pull up,” he said. “How long have you been here?” “Long enough to see you touching yourself,” she answered and turned to nip his ear. Even though it was too dark to see, Francesca knew that her teasing accusation would not make Mike blush. Nothing sexual made him blush. Oh, there were places he wouldn’t go in the bedroom— things he wouldn’t do. And an angry flush would color his cheeks when certain subjects were broached. But a modest blush of embarrassment? Never. As if he was reading her thoughts, Mike slipped his hand under the bowl and rubbed a thumb along the thin seam of her clinic scrubs. “Just waiting until I could touch you.” He breathed the words into her ear, his warm breath moistening the skin along her neck. Francesca shifted away from him under the pretense of finding the remote. She adjusted the volume and then settled back against the couch. Onscreen, a group of survivors were about to be swarmed in a tunnel by a mob of the zombie-like diseased. She nudged him and pointed at the television. “We were talking about this in class,” she said. “About the possibility of it really happening?” he asked while he tried to find an exposed area of her neck. Francesca shrugged away. They had fought before she left for class and she was still pissed, her ego refusing to quicken at his touch, despite her body’s eager need. They were, she counted, up to round 2

Ann Vremont seven in his fight to spice up their sex life with a threesome. Her evasive maneuver too slow, Mike planted a warm kiss along the curve of her neck. “No, it was Bioethics tonight, remember?” she said, her body slowly overpowering her mind and succumbing to his attempts to arouse her. She tried to remind herself that it wasn’t just a threesome he wanted, but another woman. A specific woman. “Ah, the dreaded Professor Himmelheber,” Mike joked, taking the remote from her. He clicked the movie off and put the popcorn bowl back on the floor. “We’ve seen this half a dozen times,” he said and lifted her shirt up over her bra to unhook the front closure and free her breasts. “And you’ve seen these a couple hundred times more than that,” she protested, even as she uncurled along the couch and cupped his head to her chest, savoring, for the moment, his desire for her. Moving lower, he kissed her abdomen, his tongue swirling around her navel and then darting a straight line down to the thin landing strip of hair on her otherwise bald pubic mound. Pressing his lips together, he pulled gently at the sensitive hairs until Francesca thrust her hips forward, moaning and grinding against his strong mouth. Mike stripped her bottom scrubs and panties from her, tossing them onto the floor and leaning back. He pulled his lounge pants down over his cock. The thick shaft, deliciously plumped at the top, already was rock hard and Francesca tossed one leg over the back of the couch. 3

Goblin Market 2005 His fingertips grazed her labia, quickly testing her readiness to accept him. She was wet, a warm, creamy layer of urgency coating her pussy and he speared his cock into her without warning. She ground against him, breathless from the heat building inside her. She could feel the fat tip of his cock nestling itself against her cervix, the bulk of his rod forcing the walls of her cunt to expand. Reaching behind him, Francesca grabbed his ass and dug her nails into the firm butt cheeks. She could feel the mutual force of their grind suctioning her to him and she arched against him. “Mmm…you’re so solid,” she moaned. “How long have you been waiting for me to get home?” “All night,” he said, hesitating just long enough to cause Francesca to tense beneath him. Her cheeks burned, anger flaring at herself for asking, but also at Mike for hesitating. “Don’t be that way,” he said without slowing his deep thrusts into her cunt. Francesca stopped moving beneath him, her body still bouncing lightly as he continued fucking her. “I’m not,” she said, knowing her voice was lost to the blood pounding through his ears as the first wave of orgasm began to well up inside him—his words pushing her back from the edge of climax even as he plunged head first into the divide. Mike froze above her, then groaned and thrust hard, burying his cock inside her. He trembled once, twice and then rammed into her again before he collapsed on top of her. Francesca waited a few seconds for him to say 4

Ann Vremont something. To kiss or caress her or bring her body back to the brink. When he did nothing, she got her hands under his chest and pushed at him. “Get the fuck off me,” she bit out. Mike retreated from her slowly, his jaw set and gaze averted. She didn’t want to know what his eyes held. If she knew, she’d probably want, for the fifth time that week, to scratch them out and run them down the garbage disposal along with his balls. She bounced off the couch, her thighs slick with his semen, and headed for the bedroom. “Where are you going?” “To shower and to sleep,” Francesca answered, her voice cracking. She shut the bedroom door and undressed in the dark. In the shower, she kept the water lukewarm, her nerves too frayed for a cold dousing or sensual heat. Spreading her labia with a clinical indifference, she gave a few rolling contractions of her interior muscles and pushed the rest of his cum from her and down the drain. Drying quickly, she tossed on a short nightgown and panties before she flounced on the bed and waited in the darkness. From the living room, she could hear the frenetic closing scenes of the movie followed by the sound of Mike pulling his game controllers from one of the end tables. Closing her eyes, she tried to relax but found herself straining for any audible clue that he was coming to bed. Half an hour later, she rolled over, curled into herself and fell asleep.

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Chapter Two rancesca woke to the smooth touch of Mike’s hand the curve of her hip. The soft caress was punctuated by the insistent press of his cock against the small of her back and she opened one eye to a thin slit, straining to see the clock’s read out. Six-thirty a.m. Too early for make up sex, she thought, and threw an arm over her pillow in an effort to feign a deep but restless slumber. Mike reached between Francesca and the pillow, teasing her nipples with the rough pads of his thumb and index finger. The hard tip of his erection poked her spine as he moved against her and she rolled over. She opened her eyes, the morning light harsh despite the filter of the bedroom curtains. She gave him her best glare, imagining the sharp contraction of her pupils until he was left staring into the hard glitter of her frost blue irises. Far from being intimidated, Mike dipped his head to suck at her nipple through the sheer nylon fabric of her nightgown. When Francesca’s body was slow to respond, he increased the pressure on her nipple. The smooth edge of his teeth was perceptible despite the

Falong

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Ann Vremont barrier, and she gasped from the mix of pain and pleasure. Her thighs untensed and he slipped a hand beneath her nightgown. He stroked the crotch of her cotton panties, her ready excitement dampening both the cloth and his fingertips. Lifting the elastic edge of the panties, Mike inserted a finger into Francesca’s cunt. Her tight hole was even wetter, he retreated for a second and then thrust another two fingers in—teasing her with a pyramid of flesh that was still half the circumference of his cock. The walls of her pussy contracted around him, and he released her nipple. He pushed her flat onto the mattress and stripped her panties away, forcing her legs wide. Then he moved his fingers from side to side until they were vibrating inside her. Francesca arched her hips, thrusting against the rapid shake of his hand. Her breathing roughened, its pace quickening as she approached orgasm. “Calm down, Frankie, baby,” Mike chided as his hand slowed and he allowed Francesca only shallow thrusts against him. Withdrawing completely, he bent his head to suck at her clit with the same forceful pressure he had exercised on her nipple, bringing her quickly to the near buckle of orgasm. Francesca laced her fingers through the tight blond curls that were his crowning glory. She drew him closer to her, crying out in delight at the harsh tickle of his morning beard against her thighs and engorged labia. “Keep fingering me.” She had meant to command him, but her voice was wrapped in need. 7

Goblin Market 2005 Over the curve of her pubic mound, she saw the reckless sparkle in his eyes as he gave a slight negative shake of his head. “I need to come now,” she moaned, grinding against what she imagined to be an arrogant grin concealed behind her sex. Mike rose to a kneeling position, his mouth twisted in a wet smirk. His cock was rigid, resting flat against his stomach—ready and able to impale her. She spread her legs wider in invitation. “Gotta make it last, Frankie baby,” he teased. His hands massaged her thighs while the pad of his thumb teased the spongy exterior of her cunt. “I woke up with a big appetite, baby.” His smirk grew more calculating as he continued to push her to the edge of climax before retreating. “Gonna be hard to satisfy yourself.” Whatever their intended effect, his words were like a wet cloth snapped hard across her body and she blinked from the sting of them. She drew her knees up and rolled away from him. Disbelief and disgust mingled on Francesca’s face as she pulled her robe on. “You really didn’t think that would work?” she asked. When Mike’s expression widened in mock innocence, Francesca felt her hand balling into a fist. “Do you even want to get married?” she asked hotly. “Of course, Frankie,” he said, smiling and drawing near to her as he answered. “It’s just this one thing before it’s you and me forever. Don’t you want to get on with our new life?” Francesca spun from his outstretched arms, afraid 8

Ann Vremont that she wouldn’t be able to keep from hitting him. The nearest exit was the bathroom and she stormed into it, slamming the door behind her. She gave the button on the doorknob a vicious jab to lock it before ripping the shower curtain back and turning on the water. The room steamed from the hot water as she yanked the nightgown over her head and stepped into the shower. Her fingers automatically found her clit and began rubbing at it with a sharp urgency to scratch the itch Mike’s expert touch had started. Leaning back, she splayed her labia. The shower spray drove hard and hot against her clit and her whole body spasmed in need. Sitting down, Francesca spread her legs as wide as the tub would allow. She squirmed against the porcelain until she found a position that allowed the water to hit the puffed tissue that squeezed the opening of her cunt into a tight ring. Her fingers pulled at her clit, and she pinched and jerked her way to climax. The itch still burned, and she maneuvered until she was on her knees and facing in the opposite direction. She held her ass high in the air, water pounding against the thickly pursed opening of her nether hole. Streams of hot water broke over her tailbone, spilling across her back and between the folds of her labia. Hand working desperately, she continued stroking her clit in search of a second release, her face purpling with strain. Growling in frustration, Francesca spun around into a sitting position and uncapped the lid on the 9

Goblin Market 2005 bath oil. She lubricated her middle finger and then forced it into her ass with a rough thrust. Her hand curled to allow her thumb to plunge in and out of her cunt at the same time. She rocked, rubbing her clit with her other hand. Knuckles grinding against the porcelain, she came in a series of hard grunts torn from her throat, continuing to ride her hand until she broke down in tears and sobbed a single word. Chrissy.

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Ann Vremont

Chapter Three was hunched over the juicer, feeding carrots Mike into it, when Francesca entered the kitchen twenty minutes later. She was dressed in running shorts and a loose T-shirt, her shapely, tan legs disappearing into cuffed anklets and jogging shoes. Seeing her outfit, Mike’s mouth puckered regretfully. “Why do you have to go for a run?” he asked. He offered her a glass of juice, setting it down hard on the counter when she turned away, stiff-backed and cold. “Frankie, just because it’s been a year since your whore sister disappeared…” He paused, looking for safe words but only managing to further ignite her temper. “You don’t have to be such a bitch.” Any post-climactic languor that had managed to creep into Francesca’s body vanished at Mike’s mention of her sister and his ill-chosen phrase. She forced an incredulous smile and turned back to him. She uncurled one fisted hand long enough to smack the open palm against her forehead. “Christ, how could I have been so blind?” she asked and slammed her hand down on a countertop. “Here I thought I was upset because you want to 11

Goblin Market 2005 bring another woman into our bed.” Mike turned, shutting her off, and started the blender, its loud whir drowning her out. She crossed the room to where he was standing and pulled the plug on the blender. Removing the lid, Francesca slipped her engagement ring from her finger and dropped it in. She waited a few seconds, counting down her anger, before she spoke to him in a dangerous purr. “I want you and your shit out of here by the time I get back from my Bio-Chem class tonight.” Plugging the blender back in, she left the house, listening to Mike scream over the price of the ring. She was running by the time she reached the sidewalk, her long legs falling into the familiar stride of her morning jog. She brought her legs down harder as she ran, the unusually heavy impact shaking her slender frame until all she could feel was the pounding of heart and feet. Half a mile from her condo, Francesca turned onto a dirt path that meandered through the woods that trimmed Cooper’s Pond. Her pulse quickened in an unwelcome pace as she remembered the last time she had seen her sister. Chrissy had been living downtown in a loft rented by a married man. Crissy knew about the wife—the wife had only recently discovered the lease on the loft. And so Chrissy had shown up at Francesca’s door with mascara streaks down her face, an overnight bag, and a toy poodle clutched to her chest. The next morning, red leash in hand, she’d taken the dog for a walk and never 12

Ann Vremont returned. Francesca stopped running, a painful side stitch doubling her over. She pressed her palm flat over the muscle and tried to slow her breathing. She was swaying with each gulp of air, her vision pushing back and forth along the path. A flash of metal in the low bushes lining the path caught her eye and she bent down. Her knees abandoned her when she saw that it was a buckle attached to a thin strip of faded red leather. Clutching the strap, she regained her feet, rising too quickly. The rush of blood to her legs made her feel faint, and she stumbled over the row of bushes and onto something that could have been an unmarked path, or no more than an undergrown area of the woods. There had been no serious police investigation. Her sister had been no more than a tart in their eyes, running away from, or off with, a married lover. Only Francesca and her friends had combed the woods around the house, the dumpsters and ditches, the playgrounds. Not a scrap of evidence that she’d left the house that morning marked the area. Weeks went by until it was only Francesca searching. Trying to remember how many times she’d run the same route since Chrissy’s disappearance, Francesca staggered further into the woods. Two dozen times? Maybe even three? Another flash, this time a ribbon of white fabric, drew her attention. The material was worn and frayed like the leather strap and she wondered whether the two had been there a year or ten. 13

Goblin Market 2005 On the half path behind her, twigs broke and leaves rustled on the bushes as someone approached. Francesca turned to see a man moving toward her, his easy glide giving him the appearance of floating. Her breathing stilled as she tried to make sense of his features. He was pale, his skin holding more than a tint of blue with silver veins cording his neck and temples. The blue echoed in darker shades in his eyes and the rich, mobile mouth. His body was cloaked in a robe that threw off colors like alexandrite. His joints moved awkwardly beneath the material despite the graceful way he skimmed over the ground. She took a step back, stumbling over a log. As she fell, she had another surreal glimpse of fabric wedged under the log. The same faded white with black lettering emerging to tease in its incomplete state. –ssy. With characteristic ease, Francesca rolled onto her stomach and pushed herself up into a sprinting position. Afraid to look back and freeze in her tracks, she darted forward, following the vanishing path until she was deep in the woods. Stopping, she leaned against a tree trunk and fought to regain her breath. Every sound she made was magnified and she stepped lightly while she turned a small circle in search of the man. The circle complete, she froze. Her first thought was to wonder how he had gotten so close without her hearing him. As she struggled to keep her balance, the ground spinning around both of them, she had her second thought. What was he doing standing next to one of Chrissy’s pink tennis 14

Ann Vremont shoes? Beneath the robe, his body squirmed and wriggled, the fabric pushing out, trying to suck her in with greedy inward breaths and the sound of flesh brushing against cloth. He raised a hand, touching her cheek in a manner that expressed wonder at the tear slipping down it. And then his hand closed around the back of her neck, pinching the nerves tight and forcing her out and forward. She tried to struggle but found her arms heavy, numbness already pricking at her skin. Ahead of them, the shadows knitted together in a black drape that caressed her face as she passed through it. Francesca looked up to find the trees replaced by hard gleaming metal that broke off at sharp angles. A chair that would have reminded her of a dentist’s office had it not been a skeleton of steel was in the center of the room, and he forced her into it. Blades, sharp edges glittering, appeared and he stripped her clothes from her as feeling flooded back into her arms. All around her, the smell of something like fresh cotton candy spinning on its cone swirled, weighing her down with its sweet airiness like a sugary drug. The smell was so strong she could taste it, and it struck an instant hunger in her that momentarily overwhelmed her fear. It took no more than his knee to pin her to the chair and he began removing the robe. Seeing him naked, Francesca’s fear rose back up, filling her throat with bile when he was, at last, fully revealed. Two tentacles jutted from his chest in place of 15

Goblin Market 2005 nipples. Thick as her wrist, they were flexible, their open tips seeming to scent the air around them. Dread made her look down to see another tentacle low on his stomach where his cock should have been. “No,” she whispered. Her body began to tremble and he placed a hand on each leg, massaging slow circles along her thighs as his liquid gaze held her still. The slow undulations of his body, his hands on her thighs, the tentacles swaying in the air—they all combined to fan the scent across her body, its soothing effect embracing her once more. He leaned his head back and sighed. “Moist.” Feeling her labia being parted, Francesca looked down to find a fourth tentacle curving around his ass and between his legs. One of the upper tentacles played at the edges of his mouth and his tongue darted out to catch a drop of pearl white liquid oozing from it. Francesca shook her head, trying to break her gaze from him and the site of the tip of one tentacle slowly entering his mouth. But the image gripped her and she couldn’t. At the small release of the liquid, the scent had doubled its force. Saliva pooled under her tongue, and she swallowed a mouthful of it. “Moist,” he repeated, his hand parting her thighs. “Good.” “Please, no,” Francesca begged. Her voice trembled with fear and more as the heat between her legs began to build. “I must,” the man answered. He bent over her, the other upper tentacle caressing her lips—the candy16

Ann Vremont sweet goodness inciting a growing lust low in her belly. “No waste,” he warned. Francesca pressed her lips together and tried to turn her face from the tentacle, but he put a hand on each side of her head and forced her to look at him. The white cream coated her lips, the smell becoming a more pungent mix of earthy sweetness with its source so close to her. She found herself opening her mouth to receive the warm fluid. He blinked, slowly, his mouth opening wide to envelope the head of the tentacle. Francesca mirrored his actions and coaxed more of the sweet syrup from the tentacle by stroking her tongue along the base. He moaned and she felt the first push of his posterior tentacle against the small circle of her ass. Arching her back, Francesca reached down to spread her cheeks. Inch by swelling inch it pushed into her, joined on the other side of the thick muscle of wall by the groin tentacle thrusting into her pussy. Embedded in her ass, mouth and cunt, she felt the tentacles become engorged, thick with the fluid he had admonished her not to waste. Above her, he sucked at the tentacle, one hand squeezing its base while his other hand twisted her nipple between hard little pinches that promised to leave her bruised for weeks. Francesca squirmed, her whole body threatening to explode in pleasure from the heavy battery of his body on and in her. She stroked the base of the tentacle in her mouth and reached out to capture the one he still sucked at. When she couldn’t coax it to her, she whimpered and 17

Goblin Market 2005 threw her legs around his waist, pulling him closer and deeper. She wanted it harder, rougher, and he stopped teasing the tentacle and placed his palms in the small of her back, supporting her while she rode the two lower appendages. She squeezed the muscles of her perineum and felt the tentacles puff inside her, the tips laden with the rich juice that now coated her tongue and throat. Moaning, Francesca squeezed again, the first wave of her orgasm crashing against her. She jerked, control momentarily abandoning her muscles, and then contracted around him again as the next wave hit. More of his cream gushed into her mouth, a fountain of it pouring down her throat, leaving her needing more as it dispersed into her bloodstream and was instantly sweated out as the tentacles continued to thrust inside her. At last, he let go of her and she collapsed onto the chair. She tried to hold him inside her but he withdrew, the tentacles leaving her body with a wet lingering pop. His cream dotted her mouth and he bent down, licking it from her face. “No waste,” he reminded her and moved lower. His tongue parted her labia and he continued licking her, his tongue rough over her clit to catch any of the precious fluid. He was as thorough as a cat with a saucer of milk. His tongue slid between the swollen nub and each pussy lip in turn, burying itself at the top split before running down the spine of her clit and suckling the small dangle of flesh that hooded her urethra. Then he circled the knot of tissue at the 18

Ann Vremont entrance of her cunt, thrusting inside her and repeating the process all over again. Another orgasm, smaller than the first but still sending her into convulsions, pulsed through her. When his tongue found the tired rim of her ass, she cried out in need, thrusting against him. Insanity threatened if he didn’t fuck her again and she pleaded with him to do so. “More.” She reached out, trying to stroke the tentacles to life but he kept them pressed tight against his body. “More,” he agreed and helped her from the chair. He pushed her onto the ground. She started to kiss his stomach, her tongue teasing the groin tentacle. But he pushed her lower until she was on her hands and knees. “Here,” he said, pulling back a metal panel to reveal a small cage. He prodded her forward. The sharp smell of his cum filled the cage and she let out a whining mewl as she entered. Inside, she twisted around, reaching through the bars to stroke his calves. Already he was turning away from her and to another metal panel with lights dancing across it in kaleidoscopic display. The sphere began to vibrate, the rumble filling her cunt. Reaching down, she inserted a finger in her pussy, hunger pricking her as she found herself still wet with his candied seed. She brought the finger to her mouth and sucked at it, her master’s motto running through her head as she dipped her finger inside her once again. No waste. 19

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Chapter Four first thing Francesca noticed when she revived The was the hard press of gravity flattening her against the bottom of the cage. The metallic cube that had held the cage was gone, replaced by a black fabric draped over it that fully covered three of the four sides. The fourth side, containing the door, was partially uncovered, allowing Francesca a glimpse of gleaming white floors and an equally brilliant wall. Her ears hinted at what her eyes were denied. Around her were the sounds of women moaning. Some were soft, some frantic. And, just beyond those moans, Francesca could discern the wet slap of labia and the slurp of invasion as clits and pussies were fingered with a feverish intensity. Francesca tried to move her hand down to her cunt, the sounds of the other women making her mindless with desire. Her hand dragged heavy, as if it had been turned to lead, and she tried to rise from the floor’s cage. Her muscles gave out and she collapsed, bloodying her lip from the impact. Footsteps sounded along the white floor and the black drape of fabric was whipped from the cage. 20

Ann Vremont Francesca moved her head just enough that she could strain her gaze to see the manlike creature who had kidnapped her. His body was bare once more and this time, when she blinked in shock, it was at the ferocious, otherworldly beauty he held. He bent down in front of the door and studied her through the bars. His tentacles were loose and searching, the heads as puffed as Francesca’s pussy from the moaning women. Francesca craned her neck, looking for the women and seeing only a line of covered cages. “Yahguhr,” he said and rapped on the cage. He pointed to himself and repeated the word. Francesca tried to nod her understanding but the motion was lost in the heavy gravity. Yahguhr unhooked the cage and stood, letting the door swing wide. At home in this environment, he no longer floated in his movement. “Out,” he ordered. Mouth watering at the sight of the undulating tentacles and the sweet scent escaping them, Francesca forced herself onto her knees and pushed out of the cage. When she was free of the door, he shoved her back on her haunches. Grabbing a handful of her hair, Yahguhr forced her mouth to the groin tentacle. The force was unnecessary. Francesca eagerly licked and sucked at the tentacle, her tongue taking long swipes as her hand slid between her legs and she fingered herself to a quick climax, a chorus of moaning women driving her on. She tried to slide down, to spread her body on the floor and offer him all of her, every hole she possessed, but Yahguhr 21

Goblin Market 2005 continued holding her up by the hair. Before Francesca could coax an eruption of the thick, sweet cream from him, he abruptly stepped back and sent her falling. She laid there, tongue polishing her teeth in search of any of his escaped juices while she murmured a repeated plea of “more.” Yahguhr moved down the room and returned a few seconds later with a metallic chain and collar. He slipped the collar around her neck and then wrapped his arms around her waist to hoist her back onto her knees. “Come,” he said. “Show you.” Yahguhr pulled on the leash and Francesca began to slowly move forward, feeling as if the weight of her body was being sucked through the floor. As she passed the other cages, the mixed smell of excited pussy and Yahguhr’s seed greeted her from behind the black veils. She scented at it like a dog that was eager to find a crotch to bury its nose in. When she blinked, the image of pussies wet with his cum flashed through her mind and she melted beneath the image. Yahguhr felt her resistance and gave the chain a harder jerk. “Come—show you.” At the far end of the room, a white floor-to-ceiling panel slid back and Yahguhr led her into what she thought was a mirrored room. At the appreciative gasp of onlookers, Francesca realized it was not a mirrored room but a mirrored stage. Her body, chained and subservient, was reflected back at her a thousand times, her cunt growing wetter with each 22

Ann Vremont inch she pulled herself forward. In the center of the stage was a low bench. Constructed of the same metal that now banded her throat, it was tilted at a forty-five-degree angle and had two broad slats. Two handles protruded from the sides of the top slat, and gaping circles had been cut through the board. Yahguhr pulled her onto the bench so that the front of her body rested on the slats. Her breasts pushed through the holes and the bottom slat jutted hard against her lower stomach. Turning to the crowd, Yahguhr raised his hands in the air, tentacles questing behind them, and bellowed in English, “What will you give me, lords, for this fine suck machine?” As he finished his inquiry, Yahguhr turned back to Francesca and brought his open palm down hard across her ass. Her surprised cry was coated with lust and Yahguhr had to pull her hands away from her tits. She was pumping against the bench, managing shallow thrusts despite the increased gravity. “Show us!” one of the audience members bellowed back. Francesca moved her head to the side to see the creature that had spoken. Like the rest, his body was bare. But he was of an enormous size, twice the width of any other creature in the room. Around him on the floor were four Earth women, each of their mouths busy with one of his tentacles. Even as they slurped the seed oozing from him, the women clawed at each other in jealousy. Francesca’s pussy contracted when she saw the full size of the tentacles over which they 23

Goblin Market 2005 fought, and the fat drops of cum that beaded at their tips. Some of the other members of the audience had brought an Earth woman or two but most were alone and held their tentacles tight to their bodies, heavy metal bands constricting the engorged ends to prevent seepage of any of the precious fluid. “More,” Francesca demanded with a caged growl and this time Yahguhr complied. He descended on her body. Finding her cunt already wet with need, he plunged the posterior tentacle into her. Grasping her ass, Yahguhr parted her cheeks and Francesca felt a bright flash of pain as his groin tentacle roughly squirmed its way inside the tight hole. Grabbing the bars at the side of the top slat, Yahguhr leaned over her and pressed one of his upper tentacles into her mouth before taking the remaining one into his own. Francesca sucked him hard as he rode her, his tentacles still swollen with his earlier arousal. She could feel the knobbed ends pounding through her, threatening to breach the exits of her ass and cunt an instant before slamming back into her clutching depths. She moaned against the tentacle in her mouth and reached beneath the top slat to pinch her nipples in an effort to control her arousal. Yahguhr growled and took his hands off the side bars, his ribs digging into her back as he pressed against her in a manner that allowed his sexual appendages to remain unencumbered. Poised like 24

Ann Vremont this, he reached beneath Francesca and pushed her hands away to grab her tits. He squeezed and pulled at them as he pumped into her. The hard manipulation of breasts and nipples mimicked the milking of a cow even as Francesca milked the first warm gush of his cream into her mouth. She felt her cunt and ass flood with the sticky sweet juice, the internal membranes of her body thinning to absorb the chemicals he was spilling into her. Clamping down on the tentacle in her mouth, Francesca began to buck wildly against the bench. But Yahguhr only allowed her a few tortuously short seconds before he pried his tentacle from her mouth and collapsed to the floor behind her. Giving her ass another hard slap, he laughed and spoke to the crowd. “A very fine suck machine, indeed,” he said and bent to lick her labia clean of his cum. “More?” he asked her loudly. Francesca’s body still hovered near orgasm and it was a guttural snarl of pure assent that ripped from her throat. “What say you, lords?” he asked the crowd, raising Francesca’s head by her hair and pushing her lips forward in a succulent pout. Her whole body shaking, she ran her tongue around the edge of her mouth like a crack whore zeroing in on a fresh pipe. One of the fourth row creatures offered a sum but the giant in the first row raised his hand and silenced all would-be bidders. The words he spoke had no meaning to Francesca but Yahguhr gave a very deep 25

Goblin Market 2005 bow. Grabbing the leash, Yahguhr held it forward and bowed again. “Lord Kobold, may she please you well.” “May she please me now!” Kobold grunted and lifted his heavy frame from the cushion he had been lounging on. He held the leashes of the four women loose in one meaty hand. They swarmed around his feet, each fawning for his favor as he made his way onto the stage. Standing in front of the bench, he leaned forward, the bulbous tip of his groin tentacle pushing past Francesca’s lips. Like a boar with a fat apple stuffed in its mouth, Francesca’s lips were spread to the point of splitting, but she managed to relax her jaws and accept a full third of the giant tube into her mouth. The head was hard against the back of her throat and she could taste the first drops of him as she struggled to breathe. Kobold leaned low enough over Francesca that two of his slaves were able to fasten their mouths around his upper tentacles. These they sucked and stroked, their bodies two sensuous snakes. Francesca reached out to stroke their breasts and finger their clits, her own nipples and clit hard and blazing with the need to be touched. Behind Kobold the other two women fought over who had the right to take his posterior tentacle. He pistoned one tree trunk of a leg behind him and sent both crashing to the floor. Then he spread his legs and rotated his hips, the groin tentacle pushing farther 26

Ann Vremont into Francesca’s straining throat as he inserted the posterior tentacle into his own body. Slowly, the two women rose behind Kobold and crawled to Francesca, sniffing and nipping at her body until they reached her wet cunt. Francesca’s body convulsed in orgasm as the two women began to probe her cunt and ass in search of Yahguhr’s juices. Like wet sandpaper, their chapped tongues thrust deep into Francesca and rasped another shuddering orgasm from her. Kobold’s tentacles pulsed, the heads inflating a second before he climaxed. Francesca’s body jerked again, her senses overloaded with the dizzying count of tongues, tentacles and pinching fingers that plucked at her clit and breasts. Done, Kobold withdrew from the mouths of Francesca and the two favored slaves. He tossed the four chains onto the floor and Francesca felt herself being pulled onto the ground. She moved beneath them, stroking their bodies and hers. Her fingers slid into wet holes, only to be licked by someone else before she could bring them to her mouth. She twisted, kissing them, their tongues rough wet worms covered with the trace of his cum. More kissing, thrusting, fucking and sucking and then she passed out in a wave of ecstasy beneath the growing insistence of the other women’s tongues.

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Chapter Five women were part of a small kennel of slaves that The Kobold kept in a chamber of decadent opulence. The floors and walls hummed lightly, hinting at the machinery he had installed to ease the gravitational pull on the women’s bodies. To further comfort his playthings, he had padded the floor with thick, velvet-topped foam colored a dark burgundy. Crawling forth from her cage at Kobold’s command, Francesca released a grateful whine as the pain ebbed from her bruised knees. She was dimly aware of the other cages, some unlatched, their doors open, another covered in the same fashion as the auction house, not a hint of what was hidden behind the black fabric. Most of her attention, however, was focused not on the cages or the women they housed, but on the chairs, straps and benches placed around the room. Her cunt grew wet as she envisioned herself tied to the long vertical bench, her holes filled with Kobold’s gargantuan tentacles. One, she noted with a wet moan, rocked like a hobby horse. Stomach growling and her mouth watering with 28

Ann Vremont anticipation of more feeding and fucking, Francesca nuzzled Kobold’s massive thigh. Something like a chuckle gurgled through his chest and throat and he summoned the other women from their cages. They padded out on hands and knees, examining Francesca anew. Everywhere, the delicious scent of Kobold’s cream was on them and in them and Francesca nudged back, forcing one of the women, a luscious redhead, into a subordinated position that allowed Francesca to tongue her cunt. A pale blonde tried to nose her way between Francesca and the redhead. Francesca gave the blonde a one-armed shove, her appetite for Kobold’s juice increasing tenfold as she sampled the small store that still clung to the inner folds of the redhead’s pussy. With the same thoroughness Yahguhr had shown on his spacecraft, she started to lick the sweet cream from the woman’s lower lips. Kobold laughed again and turned to one of the walls, where, hanging on pegs, there were collars and leashes. Francesca counted six, five silver and one golden, as she brought the squirming woman beneath her to climax. Kobold’s thick fingers curled around the golden collar and chain and he turned back to Francesca, holding it before her. The pale blonde threatened with a snarl and Francesca swung around, her eyes wild and glaring as she stared the woman down. Francesca felt the soft give of the redhead as she crawled over the woman to kneel in front of Kobold. He fingered the collar, teasing her with it, his groin 29

Goblin Market 2005 tentacle pulsing near her parted lips. Reaching up, she took the collar from him and placed it around her neck, her mouth fastening on the tentacle. Kobold locked his fingers through her hair and began thrusting in and out of her mouth. Savoring the push of the heavy tip against the back of her throat, Francesca felt behind her for the redhead. Lips still busily working the thick shaft, Francesca pulled the woman up and pushed her behind Kobold. He sank to his knees, forcing Francesca to go down on her stomach. She pulled two of the other slaves toward his top tentacles, leaving the blonde whimpering behind her. Tucking her knees under her, Francesca offered her splayed pussy to the woman. She was wet, but empty, and yet the woman took her place behind her. Each long swipe of the woman’s tongue against her cunt, Francesca mirrored across the long tube of Kobold’s groin tentacle. Straining to lock her hands around it, she teased the tip while she took sweeping strokes. She could feel the tentacle swelling, the head puffing as Kobold’s body prepared to release the honeyed seed. She clamped her mouth around the opening, her tongue prying inside to hurry his climax. Sensing the final puff of the tip, she ground her cunt against the woman’s searching tongue, forcing the lingual probe deeper inside. Kobold shuddered and came, the women falling into a paroxysm of ecstasy. Francesca sucked and swallowed rapidly until she felt the last squirt leave the tip. This she held in her mouth and turned to 30

Ann Vremont where the blonde waited in front of her, stomach to ground and eyes averted. Bending down, Francesca lifted the woman’s head and kissed her, releasing a mouthful of the silky cream down the woman’s throat.

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Chapter Six t was on the third day of Kobold fucking her raw Francesca experienced something she still didn’t think possible despite the sweet alien torment she’d had inflicted upon her. It was on this third day that she came. It wasn’t that she climaxed, or that she orgasmed or peaked. She came. She gushed. She squirted a hot fountain of cum from her urethra as sweet and thick as the tentacle cream, and the women quietly went wild. It happened during the final feeding of the night. Kobold had one hand fisted tight through Francesca’s hair. The chain to her collar was wound about the same hand so that he completely controlled her head and neck. His other hand pulled back on a type of metal groin harness that he liked putting her in for the day’s last session. The harness ensured that she kept her thighs spread far apart to allow him maximum access to her cunt and ass. Those two holes were filled almost to the point of splitting by his lower tentacles, his groin tentacle so far up her pussy, she was sure she would be able to taste it when he came. Enough of his pre-cum had

Ithat

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Ann Vremont oozed from the tips to desensitize Francesca to the pain, leaving her mindlessly grinding the two thick shafts in a greedy search for a shared release with him. So rough and extended was the ride that, every few minutes, her muscles would abandon her and her body limpened from the onslaught. When this happened, Kobold would jerk both hands back, close to his chest as if he were reining in a mare, and force more of her onto the tentacles. Fresh pre-cum would seep into her, anesthetizing her swollen membranes, and she would ride him with renewed vigor. Underneath Francesca, face up, was the slave Kobold called Kee. It was the belligerent blonde, and the woman had tried to take first place at feeding that morning. Now, smothering Kee with her wet pussy, Francesca was forcing the woman’s obedience. Kee squirmed between Francesca’s thighs, alternating licks of the exposed sections of tentacle with hungry nibbles at Francesca’s clit. Ti, the fourth woman from the auction house, was curled in her cage, her body feverish and shaking. She had been branded that morning, not with laser or needle but with a single word. Waste. Already, one waste creature lived in the kennel, abandoned behind the black drapes before Francesca’s arrival. And, like the creature that wailed and moaned behind the covered cage, Ti would no longer be fed by Kobold or any of the women. Her body was too far gone to retain Kobold’s seed. It dripped in trails from her ass and cunt after feeding and what went down her throat was vomited back up. Waste. No longer was 33

Goblin Market 2005 she ‘Ti’, or part of the pack. Until she died, she would be Waste. The part of Francesca’s mind that wasn’t intent on riding Kobold to her sexual annihilation thought of Ti and the other waste creature. There was a brief flicker of regret that she could no longer pity the women, but then hunger and need filled Francesca’s body and mind to the point of desperation, and all thought ceased. Lifting her knees from the floor, Francesca buried another inch of tentacle in her ass and cunt, her weight crushing down on Kee’s questing mouth. Kobold groaned and released a heavy, full-bodied shudder. The tentacles rippled through Francesca and then the tips puffed, spilling their seed and sending her into a bone-clenching orgasm that wrenched every last drop of fluid from Kobold. Finished, he pushed Francesca roughly from him and she collapsed on Kee’s face, the soft curve of her lower belly and the metal band of the harness pressed against Kee’s forehead. The blonde wiggled tighter against Francesca, her tongue replacing Kobold’s tentacle in Francesca’s cunt. The two other slaves, sated, collapsed on the floor and began caressing one another. Kobold slapped Francesca on the ass as he pulled the locking pin from the groin harness and left the room. She groaned and leaned back on her heels, her engorged labia covering Kee’s mouth and sharp little chin. Francesca cupped her own breasts and began pinching her nipples to crimson tips while she rotated 34

Ann Vremont her hips, Kee’s chin digging hard against the bundle of nerves and cartilage that made up Francesca’s trigger point. Francesca released one nipple and strained behind her. The circle of muscle that guarded her ass was sore and swollen, the nerves still twitching from the pounding Kobold had delivered. Francesca slipped two fingers inside her ass, crying out as she did so. She rode Kee’s face, forcing a third finger inside, feeling empty with her attempt to match Kobold’s width. Still, she rocked back and forth, the pressure flashing ass, clit, ass, clit, ass. And then she really came—her body trying to lock down on the ripple of cum before it could squirt against the other woman’s face. Kee stopped probing the depths of Francesca’s pussy and unwedged herself from between Francesca’s thighs. The woman’s glazed eyes suddenly sparkled with new intelligence. Her face was wet, her upper lip covered with the mixed cum of Francesca and Kobold, her chin glistening with Francesca’s arousal. The two slaves who had fed with Francesca raised themselves off the mat, circling her in a cautious investigation. They licked Kee’s face then turned to Francesca, sniffing at her cunt as if she had entered some new heat. Kee and the two women looked at one another and silently reached their conclusion. And then they fell upon Francesca, the fury of their passion tenfold what it had been the day of the auction. They sucked at her mouth, breasts and clit. They rubbed their cunts across her face, kissed her, pinched her, fingered her pussy and ass mercilessly until, after another hard 35

Goblin Market 2005 series of climaxes, a second stream of cum jetted from Francesca’s urethra. Kobold returned a few minutes later to find Kee’s mouth fastened to Francesca’s clit. He tried to slap Kee free, but she held fast, whining and yelping until he gave up and herded the other two slaves into their cages. He turned the lights off, leaving Francesca staring through the black ink of the room, her body transfixed as Kee’s curled hand and clever tongue wrung another gushing climax from her. Just before Francesca passed out, before she squirted the last of what she was or could have been, the last of her very identity, into Kee’s waiting mouth, someone called her name. It wasn’t the garbled “Tcheska” Kobold would spit out before he climaxed or the clipped “Ka” the other women used, but her real name. Every letter was wrapped in pain, each syllable drowned in despair. Before she could forget who she was forever and pass into a darkness deeper than the night sky she had traveled through to this warped paradise, someone reminded her that she was Francesca. As the last climax tore through her body, she flung an arm out toward the black draped cage, knowing and not wanting to know what it held. Pain blossomed in Francesca’s chest and unconsciousness finally claimed her as she realized that the unseen waste creature whose cries she had sneered at for the last three days was her missing sister. Chrissy.

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Chapter Seven rancesca slept until Kobold came to deliver their

Fmorning feeding. His tentacles were swollen from a long night with no release. Sore, fatigued, but clearheaded, she nuzzled Kobold’s thigh with her cheek as she slid the constricting band from his groin tentacle. Something had happened. His scent no longer clawed at her senses until she was a mindless bitch in heat. Her body trembled once again with the same fear she had felt when Yahguhr chased her through the woods. Trying to disguise her fear as need, she fastened her lips around the tip. Kobold jerked her head back and studied her quivering mouth and averted gaze. “No waste,” he warned. Next to her, Francesca could feel Kee swelling with belligerence once more and she raked her nails across Kee’s breasts, shrieking for her to back away. She needed the feeding to be over, needed him to leave with her cheeks puffed full of his cum, needed to pull back the black cover of the cage and know for certain that Chrissy was inside. Giving Kee another warning, Francesca wrapped 37

Goblin Market 2005 her hands around the bulging tip of Kobold’s groin tentacle. “More,” she moaned, tongue swirling at the tip, her whole body snaking against him in a convincing show of lust. Kobold put a hand on each cheek and inserted his thumbs into her mouth. He pulled the corners of her lips back until his thumbs rested like a horse bit at the hinge of her jaw. Then he forced her further down into the foam padding of the floor. When he had the back of Francesca’s head only a few inches from touching her shoulders, Kobold inserted his groin tentacle into her mouth. The appendage wormed its way down her throat, gagging her. His whole body twisted and turned as he fucked her mouth and throat. The other slaves had to clutch desperately at his remaining tentacles to keep them in their mouths. He was so thick, so swollen with seed that he blocked her airway. The room’s lights began to blacken, the dots congealing into a black fog. Francesca gagged again, her entire body convulsing around his tentacle. “Tcheska, good little suck machine,” he gurgled. His bulky framed tightened and then relaxed with an ominous shudder. His climax rolled in a ball through his tentacle and as the rolling mass of flesh had traveled halfway down her throat, Kobold warned her again. “No waste.” And then he pushed Francesca from him, leaving her flailing to catch the end of the tentacle and force her protesting mouth around the tip before his seed squirted all over the room. Her lips covered the head just as he came, the force 38

Ann Vremont of his ejaculation as it hit the back of her throat almost knocking her loose. Forcing down her need to vomit, she kept swallowing and waited for the last shudder. When the last of his seed entered her mouth, she held it inside as she had done to feed Kee. The other slaves, who had suffered the long night in need of a fix, fell to the ground and rolled, teasing their oversensitive flesh with the soft velvet pile that covered the foam. Francesca mimicked them, still holding Kobold’s seed inside her mouth. Satisfied, Kobold scooped up his tentacle rings and left the women alone. With Kobold gone, Francesca crawled to the draped cage. The other women were too lost in the chemical rush of the feeding and paid no attention to Francesca until she dragged the covering off. Kee noticed first and murmured a low warning. Waste. And the other women took it up with a hiss. Waaaayyyst. Kobold’s cum pressed against Francesca’s lips and threatened to spill from her mouth as she fumbled with the slide bolt on the cage. The woman inside had made no noise since calling her name last night and Francesca still couldn’t bring herself to look up, to find out whether the waste creature was alive or dead or if it really was Chrissy. She didn’t have to look up. “Fran…ces…ca…” The word broke in a low, dying moan and Francesca desperately shot the lock back and threw 39

Goblin Market 2005 open the cage door. She crawled inside, cupping the creature’s head and tilting it back, her thumb pressing against the chin to gently force the lips open. Bending down, Francesca kissed her sister for the first time in a year and released the creamy liquid into Chrissy’s mouth. Chrissy wrapped her arms around Francesca’s head and pulled her deeper into the kiss, her tongue darting into Francesca’s mouth to lick the mix of saliva and Kobold’s juice. Francesca’s pussy, dry through the feeding, grew damp at the sweet probing. She stuck her tongue into Chrissy’s mouth and let her suck at it. Francesca’s clit burned with the need to be stroked as Chrissy raped her mouth with greedy thrusts. When at last Francesca pulled away, she felt her heart rend as Chrissy mouthed a plea for more. “Waste,” Kee barked out. She tried to reach in and pull at Francesca, but Francesca slammed the door on Kee’s arm. Kee yelped and freed her arm. The other slaves backed away from the cage, keeping their careful gaze on Francesca. “More,” Chrissy begged. Francesca twisted around in the cage until she could spread her legs wide enough to rub her clit with one hand while she inserted a finger in her cunt. She frantically worked the nub, trying to squeeze a climax from her exhausted body. “More.” Insistent, hurt, Chrissy trembled with need and pain. Francesca withdrew her fingers from herself and grabbed Chrissy’s hand. She curled three of her sister’s fingers into a scoop and guided her to 40

Ann Vremont the opening. “Here,” she said. “Here’s more.” Holding tight to Chrissy’s wrist, Francesca forced Chrissy to deliver deep thrusts to her cunt as Kee had done the night before. She cupped her hand along the back of Chrissy’s head and forced her mouth to cover the pulsing clit. “Lick me, kiss me,” Francesca prayed. “And there will be more.” Francesca jerked, feeling the rough slide of Chrissy’s tongue over her clit. She pressed harder against the back of Chrissy’s head, urging her on in heated moans. “Suck me, eat me,” she moaned, her body thrashing against the bars of the small cage. Her nipples were small bullets of pain and she felt the burning tingle begin to build low down in her stomach with the sweet ache of an approaching climax. Molding Chrissy’s lips around her clit, Francesca cried out. “Drink me, love me.” She spasmed once and then there was More. A hot stream of cum squirted into Chrissy’s mouth. “Suck my juices.” Francesca bucked against Chrissy’s mouth, fresh juice squirting with each interior stroke of Chrissy’s hand inside her cunt. The lights began to fade for a second time that morning and pain splintered through her body as the door to the room crashed in and she heard Kobold shout, his voice rough with rage and the harsh charge of betrayal. Waste!

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Chapter Eight rancesca woke outside the confines of the cage. The

Fsmooth velvet flooring was replaced with the dewy

tickle of grass and she opened her eyes to see stars blinking in the night sky. She went to sit up, her arm trapped by something soft and clinging. She turned her head and saw the pale glow of Chrissy’s body in the moonlight. Shivering, Francesca gently untucked her arm from beneath Chrissy’s head. Sitting up, she looked around them, recognizing the small meadow that served as the soccer field for the kids in the condominium’s complex. Gazing up at the sky, she tried to figure out what time it was, then shrugged. They’d either make it back to her condo without being seen naked, or they wouldn’t. Prodding Chrissy into a half-awake state, Francesca walked her to the line of trees surrounding the meadow. They were maybe two rows of condos away from her home and indecision tore at her. She could creep back to the condo alone and return with clothes, or stumble through the complex with Chrissy. In the end, the fear of Chrissy disappearing before she 42

Ann Vremont could make it back won out and she wrapped one of Chrissy’s arms around her shoulder and pulled her in tight at the waist. They made it, somehow, without being seen, or at least without anyone ever acknowledging the sight of them. Francesca dug her spare house key out of the soil holding the potted fern on her doorstep. Inside, she locked the door and gently slid Chrissy into a propped position against the wall. Then she prowled through the condo to the bedroom. The bed sheets were rumpled but the bed was empty. She switched on the light, one hand shielding her eyes as her pained gaze spotted her nightgown and robe where she had left them on the bed. The drawers on her dresser were open, her clothes on the floor. In the center of the clothes was a smashed frame holding a picture of her and Mike. Slipping the nightgown on, Francesca picked up the robe and headed back to the entryway. She pulled Chrissy’s arms through, tied the sash around her waist and then hoisted her into a standing position. Her body shook under Chrissy’s weight as they made their faltering way into the bedroom. She let Chrissy sink onto the bed and then picked up the broken glass before going into the kitchen. Francesca listened to her messages while she downed a twenty-ounce bottle of water. Only one of the messages was a frantic query as to where she had been for the last four days. She picked up the phone and punched in the caller’s number. The phone was answered on the other end by a gruff male voice. 43

Goblin Market 2005 “Hey, Jess,” she whispered into the phone. “Is Tabby there?” “Frankie?” The man’s voice was awake now and Francesca could hear Tabitha’s sleepy inquiry of who was calling so late and then the phone was lost between them as Tabitha grabbed for it. “Frankie,” Tabitha cried into the phone. “Where the hell have you been?” Francesca answered with a dry laugh before she simply said, “Away.” “No, where have you been?” Tabitha persisted. “Are you okay? Where are you?” The words came out in a stream and Francesca allowed herself a brief shudder of relief before answering. “I’m fine,” she said. “I just need to pull a few things together before we can talk.” “Mike—” “Is he in jail, the hospital or dead?” Francesca interrupted, the relief draining from her voice to be replaced with a cold anger. Mike, Kobold…when it came to the male of the species, it didn’t matter which species it was. She’d outlasted her usefulness and they had moved on. At least, she thought and shuddered, whatever change had been wrought in her body, it had kept Kobold from killing her or Chrissy. She was, in some small way, physiologically like them now—her death would have crossed the line into forbidden, into waste. “No,” Tabitha answered cautiously, pulling Francesca back into the conversation. “He’s just pissed off and saying he doesn’t know where you 44

Ann Vremont are.” “That’s the truth.” She choked down on a bitter laugh and pulled the phone’s mouthpiece closer. “Look, I just need a couple of days without anyone nosing around.” “I’m coming over,” Tabitha said. Francesca could hear Tabitha tossing back the bedcovers and the springs creaking as she climbed out of bed. “No, Tabitha,” she said. “It’s Chrissy. Please. She’s back, but I can’t have anyone seeing her like this. Please.” Francesca was crying now, blubbering her plea into the phone. “Please,” she asked once again and Tabitha finally relented. “Does she need a doctor?” Tabitha asked. “No, just rest and some decent food.” “Do you need a doctor?” Francesca sniffed and blew her nose on a paper towel before answering. “No, Tabby Cat. I just need some rest, too.” With that, Francesca told Tabitha goodnight and promised to call her in the morning.

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Chapter Nine rancesca slept fitfully and in shifts through the

Fnight. She cradled Chrissy to her, running her hands over her sister’s trembling body. She forced water down her, hoping to flush out the toxins that Kobold had spit into her. She tried everything she’d learned in class on detoxifying addicts. Nothing worked. In the morning, Chrissy still cried out for more. “Shhh…” Francesca cooed and rolled Chrissy onto her back. She pulled the pillow from beneath Chrissy’s head and knelt over her face. Bracing one hand against the wall, Francesca began to finger her clit. Spreading her legs farther apart, she felt her labia brush against Chrissy’s mouth, felt the lips part before Chrissy’s tongue darted into her. “That’s it, baby,” she coaxed her sister. Francesca V’d her fingers, rubbing the sides of her clit as Chrissy licked the little button to a throbbing peak. “Finger me, baby,” she said. “Curl your fingers like I showed you.” Half-claw, half-caress, Chrissy curled her fingers and thrust them into Francesca’s cunt. “That’s it, Chrissy, baby,” Francesca panted. “Keep 46

Ann Vremont fucking me, keep—Oh, yes, fuck, yes.” Grinding against Chrissy’s face, Francesca came. She slammed her open palms against the wall and bore down on Chrissy’s sweet, sucking mouth. She moaned and came again, jerking back and catching her heels as she pushed harder. Drained, Francesca collapsed onto the mattress. She pulled the blanket up and snuggled close to Chrissy, whose shaking had finally subsided. Sneaking a hand between her legs, she brought a wet finger up and tasted her juices. It was sweet and creamy, with the same pungent aftertaste that Yahguhr and Kobold had held. But it was just cum to her. Her body didn’t descend into a paroxysm of delight at the mere smell of it.

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Chapter Ten insisted on coming by two days later. She Tabitha found Chrissy sound asleep, worn and thin, but recognizably the woman who had disappeared just over a year ago. “Where was she?” Tabitha asked after she fixed Francesca a cup of hot tea. “With a cult,” Francesca answered, hiding the lie behind the rim of her mug. “They pumped a lot of drugs into her.” “Are you calling the cops?” “I will,” Francesca said. “When I know what it all means and that she’s safe.” Tabitha started to protest but Francesca cut her off with a sharp dismissive shake of her head. “If I report it now, they’ll find her. She’s too weak to resist.” Tears welled in Francesca’s eyes and Tabitha came around the table to wrap her arms around Francesca’s shoulders. She squeezed Francesca, her voice tight and fierce as she assured her. “It’s going to be okay. Just tell me what you want me to do.” “Just give me some time to fix this,” Francesca pleaded. “That’s all, just some time.” 48

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Chapter Eleven fter another week had passed, Francesca went to a

Amedical supply store with a long shopping list. She

came home with needles, a laboratory-grade microscope, slides, and a small centrifuge machine. In the spare bedroom of her condo, she drew samples of her blood and studied it. She drew samples from Chrissy, too, who whimpered at the sharp prick of the needle but didn’t otherwise protest. The differences between their blood confirmed Francesca’s mounting suspicions. Kobold and Yahguhr, as well as the rest of their kind, were virus carriers, with the by-product of the body’s reaction being a powerful drug. Francesca had contracted the virus from them. She was, she mused, probably the first Earth woman to catch a sexually transmitted disease from an alien race. No wonder they had panicked and dropped her back to Earth like a hot potato. Satisfied that she’d learned all she could from her blood without more than a makeshift lab, Francesca turned next to studying the by-product. In the bathroom, hunched over the toilet, she learned how to milk her cum into a glass tube. She would split the 49

Goblin Market 2005 contents in half, giving Chrissy watered down portions in an attempt to wean her from the underlying substance. The other half she subjected to dozens of tests in an attempt to break down its chemical components. At night, though, the need ripped through Chrissy’s body until she screamed with it and Francesca would find herself with her back pressed against the bedroom wall, her legs splayed to the side, her sister’s mouth pressed to her cunt. She fed her like that, stroking Chrissy’s dark hair, watching the moonlight from the window play over Chrissy’s body as she suckled Francesca’s clit. Pleasure and shame would suffuse Francesca as she rocked her way to a slow climax, and then the two of them would curl around one another and fall asleep. Mike found them like that on the first Monday of the next month. Francesca heard his key in the door and cursed herself for not changing the lock already. She tried to scramble from the bed, but her limbs were leadened from a long night of passion. She only managed to pull the sheet across their bodies when the door to the bedroom opened. Seeing the curve of the women’s bodies pressed so closely under the sheet, no hint of clothing creasing the fabric’s smooth surface, Mike froze. Lust, bald and ugly, rose in him and distorted his handsome features. Seeing it, Francesca let out a relieved sigh and reached for him. He would do, she thought and smiled at the ready bulge of an erection against his pants. She would let him have his fantasy and it 50

Ann Vremont would be the ruin of him. His slow decay would educate her in the full effects of withdrawal. “Did you miss me?” she murmured and pushed the sheet down to expose her and Chrissy’s naked bodies. Next to her, Chrissy stirred and Francesca stroked her sister’s exposed nipple, sighing when it hardened beneath her soft caress. “Did you?” she repeated. He shook his head dumbly and Francesca reached out to stroke his cock through the fabric. She delivered long strokes to the covered erection, her movements in direct contrast to the teasing flicks she was giving Chrissy’s peaked nipple. “More,” Chrissy moaned through her morning fog. Still sleeping, her hand slid between Francesca’s legs, the fingers in search of the wet furnace that waited to be stroked to an inferno. Francesca spread her legs and tugged at the belt loop of Mike’s pants. “Take these off,” she ordered. He stripped and climbed onto the bed, his hand caressing Francesca’s parted thighs before he traced the curve of Chrissy’s rounded bottom. Francesca raised one leg and planted her foot in the center of his chest. She pushed gently, urging him further down the bed. “Let her wake naturally,” she said. “Make me cum first.” Mike’s lips were quivering as he placed them against Francesca’s pussy. Smelling the sticky sweet juice that still coated her labia, he inhaled deeply, his pupils dilating to rapidly eclipse the iris. 51

Goblin Market 2005 “That’s it,” Francesca murmured, her hands kneading Chrissy’s fuller breasts. Chrissy opened her eyes, smiled down at Mike and whispered a hello, but he already was lost in the aroma of Francesca’s cunt. “Let him work, baby,” Francesca said and tilted Chrissy’s head back until their lips were touching. Mike’s tongue plumbed Francesca’s depths and she squirmed impatiently against his clumsy probing. “Show him how to use his hands.” She moaned the command into Chrissy’s mouth. Chrissy scooted down the bed, took Mike’s hand and forged the three middle fingers into a cup. “No,” Francesca said. “Show him, baby. Show him how to work my pussy.” Chrissy kissed the soft inside of Francesca’s thigh and then rammed three fingers into her. Francesca thrust her hips high into the air, screaming out at the riot of sensations that smothered her body like a wet blanket. “Again!” she yelled and grabbed her legs. Pulling her knees to the sides of her chest, she hugged them tight while Chrissy thrust inside her. Seeing her sister’s cunt exposed, Chrissy bent down to tease the clit, but Francesca tensed and ordered her away. “Make him do it now.” Mike descended on Francesca’s pussy, his lips and tongue pinching and pulling at her clit as Chrissy continued to finger-fuck Francesca. “Eat me, Mike,” she cried out, her body bouncing along the bed. “You better fucking eat me until you can taste me cumming.” 52

Ann Vremont Mike’s body jerked and Francesca could smell the salty tang of his cum as it spread across the bed sheets, but his mouth never left her pussy. He pressed harder against her clit, shaking his head from side to side. One finger snaked out and pushed into her ass. She clamped down on the finger and squirmed against it, denying him the opportunity to change his mind and withdraw. “Ooh, that’s it, baby,” she panted. “Tell me you don’t want to fuck that little hole next.” Mike let out another loud moan that rumbled through Francesca’s pelvic bone and she spasmed. With the first jet of her cum, Mike’s body reacted. His eyes glazed over and his throat, working to capture each pearled drop, constricted involuntarily until he was snorting and gasping. Placing her feet against his shoulders, Francesca forced him back. “It’s Chrissy’s turn,” she chided as he grabbed her by the hips and pushed forward. He looked at Chrissy, his gaze empty of recognition, and Francesca gave another hard shove. Free from Mike, she rolled into a kneeling position and offered him her ass while she cradled Chrissy’s head between her thighs. Chrissy’s tongue already was busy cleaning the bruised labia and clit. Taking the tip between her lips, she began to roll the nub in little circles that had Francesca clutching her ass and moaning. “You want more, Mike?” she asked and spread her cheeks. “More,” he agreed, his fingers searching for the 53

Goblin Market 2005 opening to her cunt. “No, baby,” she said and rubbed her bottom against his stiffened cock. “Give me what I want, and you can have more.” Mike placed a trembling hand on each of Francesca’s globed ass cheeks. His cock pressed against the hole, teasing her with the prospect of penetration at the same time Chrissy’s fingers pressed against the puffed exterior of Francesca’s pussy. A slow blush heated Mike’s face and he gave Francesca a searching look. “More?” Reaching back, she cupped his wet chin and smiled. “Yes, baby, more.” And then she shook her head in warning. “But, baby, no waste.” No waste.

54

“F

or there is no friend like a sister, In calm or stormy weather, To cheer one on the tedious way, To fetch one if one goes astray, To lift one if one totters down, To strengthen whilst one stands.” “The Goblin Market,” Christina Rossetti (1862)

About the Author ho Ann Vremont is depends on which of her many

Wpersonas you happen to ask. She’s a mother and wife, a licensed attorney, a high school dropout, and a former Russian linguist. She’s called bingo for a living, waitressed at a strip club, scooped ice cream, and conducted political surveys. Now, when she’s not working to pay off her student loans or spending time with her family, she can be found writing at that juncture where modern meets myth, playing with graphic art programs, or building yet another web site for her own personal amusement.