A Week of June: Monday

That night I had a very vivid dream: in it, I had been back at our Westchester house, having an argument with Alice, my ex-wife. For some reason, she was only wearing a bra, her clean-shaven pussy staring at me. All of a sudden, her voice seemed to emanate from her lower lips, shouting at me with vulgar words. And then June came in with a magnificent black dildo and shoved it up her mother’s cunt, saying sprightly, “At last, a way to SHUT YOU UP!”

I woke up, at first shivering, and then amused at the startling image of my daughter silencing Alice in what seemed an all too appropriate fashion, given Alice’s insatiable need for extramarital sex. And then, all of the last night’s events came pouring into my consciousness once again. My daughter’s teasing, the intense pleasure I felt in her presence, and the incipient desire I felt for her. And finally, my plans for playing her game, my competitive nature urging me to one-up her. As usual, my morning erection called my attention to it. Adjusting myself in my silk boxers, I stepped out of the room.

June was still in bed, asleep. I stopped at the sight of her. The sheets had gotten all tangled during the night, and she was lying mostly on top of them, with her shirt rucked up around her waist. Her long legs were just as I remembered them from the night before, and with her shirt so high on her body, her ass was also in the open. The glorious double curves of her cheeks with only the thin strip of white thong panties separating them were some of the finest I had ever had the honor to lay eyes on. The sound of the ancient air conditioner sputtering away seemed to be drowned out by the roaring in my ears.

My thoughts were a jumble. Perhaps I had misapprehended June’s intentions the night before? And even if I hadn’t, was I willing to go along with her in this game? Certainly I found her arousing in a manner I had never anticipated, and in the past, such an attraction would have led me to attempt a liaison. But the circumstances were different here. I was risking more than just a temporary humiliation: I was risking my relationship with my daughter, so newly reestablished.

On the other hand, I believed that I had read June correctly over the previous day. If she had been any other woman, the signs she had given me would have compelled me to take action towards her. In either case, I rationalized, I could take cautious steps and see where it led me. If she gave me any sign she was displeased, I could back away quickly enough. As our attitude towards nudity had been fairly relaxed when we were living as a family, I could easily claim misunderstanding.

So I sat down on the bed beside her, and shook her shoulder, to waken her.

“Good morning, princess. Did you have a good night’s sleep?”

“Mmmmm…” she sighed, stretching like a cat next to me before opening her gorgeous eyes and smiling up at me. She made no attempt to cover herself, but rolled over onto her back and pulled her arms over her head, much like she had the morning before. Only this time, there was nothing covering her lower body outside of the skimpy panties. I gazed in wonder at the sight of her flat tummy and the sexy curve of her hips, and then at the soft junction of her thighs, where the white silk dove between her legs. I swear you could see the outline of her labia as if the panties had been painted on. I looked up to see her still smiling at me.

“Mmm, Dad, I had a dream about you last night; you were holding me just like you used to when I was a kid and we watched TV together at night. I felt so comfy, so secure. Yeah, I guess I slept pretty well last night, probably the best night’s sleep I’ve had in months!”

I felt my cock stir in my boxers as I gazed into this sexy girl’s eyes. I could hardly believe this was my June, the girl I had known from infancy to high school. The look she was giving me would not be out of place in the boudoir, from a woman to her lover. She was so clean, innocent, dewy, and yet erotic in more than just a schoolgirl way. I thought I could lose myself in her if I wasn’t extremely careful.

“Well, kid,” I said, standing up, and stretching myself, “we’ve got some bagels in the kitchen. I’m going to take a shower and shave, OK?”

I knew full well what my motions would do: in my stretch, I felt the silk of the boxers glide over my partial erection, and mold itself to the contours of my balls. Standing just in front of her, I knew she couldn’t miss the “unconscious” display.

I took a quick shower, and then stepped out to shave in front of the mirror. Since I regularly shave my cock and balls after I shave my face, I usually don’t wear a towel while I stand in front of the sink. Today, however, this habit had unexpected consequences when June knocked lightly on the door and stepped into the bathroom.

“Oh! Whoops! Sorry, Dad,” she said, averting her eyes, and making as if to leave the room.

“S’OK, June. You can come in, just don’t look, OK?”

“Oh. OK, I was just going to hop into the shower myself. So don’t you look either, right?”

“Uh-huh,” I replied, pretending to be engrossed with my shaving. The mirror was fogged in all but a small area for me to look into, but in that small area I could catch glimpses of my daughter as she stood, looking squarely at my backside. Let her look, I thought to myself. Two can play at that game, as she turned her back to me and pulled her T-shirt over her head. Once again, I was free to admire the lack of tan-lines on her back. I couldn’t see her lower half, but she stooped to remove her panties, and then stepped into the shower. I heard the spray of water begin.

I finished shaving my face, and then sat down on the toilet to begin to remove the stubble surrounding my genitals and perineum. I lathered up, and began carefully stroking the razor over the skin of my balls.

“Dad, do you have an extra razor I can borrow?” came June’s voice from within the shower.

“Um, sure thing, doll. Hang on, I’ll get one for you.” I got an extra disposable and stepped to the tub. I put my hand with the razor into the gap of the curtain. “Here you go.” I felt her take the razor from me, and then I felt the glide of some wet and smooth skin across my fingers. I could not identify what part of her body it was, but the feel of it was electrifying. I jerked my hand out of the shower.

“Sorry, hon,” I stammered. I heard a little giggle from within the confines of the curtains.

I sat back down and finished shaving the delicate skin of my scrotum, and started on the area around the base of my shaft. I find that removing the hair from this area makes the erection stand out that much more. I saw one foot perched on the edge of the tub, the pink toenail polish glistening. I knew that June was busy shaving her legs. In a second, the foot was replaced by its partner. I stood up to shave between my legs, the area behind my balls. Then I heard a snort of laughter from inside the tub.

“There’s really no graceful way to do this, is there?” June remarked.

“What’s that, hon,” I replied, offhandedly, in the midst of contortions of my own.

“Shaving the bikini area, of course!”

I laughed. “We all have to shoulder our crosses in the name of fashion, dear.” I finished my work, and cleaned up, just as I heard the shower turn off. I stepped out of the room before she could get out of the shower. Although I had an intense desire to see her handiwork, and to display my own, I was beginning to enjoy the feeling of a cat-and-mouse game.

In my room, the enormity of the events of the last fifteen minutes hit me. June and I had been simultaneously shaving our privates, not five feet removed from each other. And she had let me know that she knew about it too! Any doubts I had remaining about her intentions were swept out the door by this realization. The only question remaining was how far she wanted our game to go. I was willing to let her play leader, as long as I could have my fun too.

To that end, I got out a pair of button front jeans from my closet. These jeans were the oldest pair I owned, and they were faded nearly white. In addition, they were so thin that they molded themselves to the skin underneath like a wet cloth. Finally, in several strategic areas, the material had frayed into long collections of parallel threads, including over both knees, both ass cheeks, and alongside the inner thighs on both sides. I pulled the nearly non-existent piece of clothing up my legs and adjusted myself in the crotch so that my unit was all on one side of the seam. I knew from experience that with an erection, the threads would be pulled apart, revealing the turgid flesh beneath. I also knew that bending over would afford anyone behind a stellar view of my ass. I had more daring outfits, but few I enjoyed as much as these pants. For a top, I put on a black mesh muscle shirt.

If I thought I was going to trump my daughter, I had a lot to learn about June. For when I stepped out of my bedroom, I found her seated at the table, dressed in an outfit whose image is burned into my brain. For a top, she was wearing a very simple lycra stretch top that reached just below her breasts, and which had short sleeves. Although the material was not see-through, every inch of her tits was encased with the lycra so that they were perfectly outlined. Then she had on a flouncy schoolgirl like skirt in blue checks with pleats that could only be described as a micro-mini. The skirt had two suspender-like straps that went over her shoulders, with each one lying on the outside of one breast. Her midriff was proudly bared, showing off her sexy navel. When she sat down, the skirt went up behind her so that she sat on her bare bottom. Her blond hair was pulled into two pigtails, and she wore four-inch transparent plastic blue heels.

To cover my astonishment at June’s audacity, I went and got myself a bagel. True, I had met many women who enjoyed displaying their charms. In fact, I had seen a number in outfits far more outrageous than the one June was wearing. However, none of these sirens had been my daughter. I was clearly going to have to update my thinking on June. At the same time, I can’t say I was disappointed. I have never liked prudes, or women who could not enjoy their physicality. I could tell that June had the wherewithal to withstand unwanted advances, and the self-confidence to appear perfectly natural in costumes in which other girls would have come across as stumbling fools.

I sat down next to June and put my foot closest to her on the seat of her chair, by her leg, and leaned back slightly. This action opened my crotch directly towards her. I could feel the warmth of her bare leg, only an inch or so away from my foot.

“So, Kid, what are you going to do this morning? Remember, I’ve got my meeting in a little while.” She turned slightly towards me, bringing her outer thigh into contact with the side of my foot.

“Well, Daddy, I’ve got some cash burning a hole in my pocket, so I thought I’d go shopping.”

“Honey, I’d be astonished if you have a pocket hidden somewhere in that outfit,” I laughed.

“Hmph,” she replied, with a pretty pout, “I have a pocket all right, but it’s not usually used for money!”

“Just be careful, princess. New York City isn’t like Connecticut. I know you can handle yourself, but keep an eye out for weirdos.”

“Oh, Daddy,” she said, as she stood up and moved between my legs to hug me, “you’re so sweet. Nothing’s going to happen to me that I don’t want.” She put her arms around my head and pulled me to her sweet body. My cheek was pressed against her belly, and my arms were around her waist. I put my hands on her upper legs and hugged her back, delighting in the firm tone of her leg muscles.

“OK, sweety,” I told her belly-button, “Go get ‘em, tiger!” She giggled and turned back toward her plate. She leaned forward slightly to pick it up, pushing her butt back towards my face. Her skirt flipped up, showing me her astounding cheeks for the third time since the night before. This time, there was only a small string disappearing between them, the same color blue as the checks on her skirt. She was wearing a g-string! I could barely stop myself from running an appreciative hand up her legs to fondle those sculptured half-moons so close to my face. I felt those threads stretching thin in my pants. And then the moment was past, as she stepped to the kitchen to clean her plate.

****

Not ten minutes later, she was set to go, with a purse and blue sunglasses shaped like hearts perched on the top of her head. At the door, she gave me a quick peck on the cheek and wished me luck with my meeting. As she stepped out of the door, the elevator chimed. Out stepped a woman in a dark-blue, conservative skirt suit, hair pulled back severely, with horn-rimmed glasses, carrying a portfolio. As June walked past her and into the elevator, the woman’s eyes never left her, staring at her, even as the elevator doors closed. Then she turned to me, and raised one eyebrow.

“Ray Carlson, I presume? I’m Deirdre O’Phelan, representative of Flirty Girl Products.” Her eyes raked across my body, from head to toe, and back up again, lingering briefly over my groin.

“Won’t you step into my office?” I swept my hand in front of me, indicating the open door. She moved past me into my apartment, smelling gently of jasmine. She sat in one of the chairs, decorously tilting her knees to one side. I sat down opposite, with my legs spread, and took a moment to examine Ms O’Phelan. Despite her austere appearance, I could see that she was really quite becoming. Her jet-black hair contrasted with her pale skin, and behind her glasses her eyes had a sharp intensity to their ice-blue color. Her round face had very delicate features, and was set upon a graceful neck. Her clothes were tailored, and fit her slim body perfectly. Her nylons set off the fine turn of her legs. I noted that the shirt under the navy blue jacket appeared sheer, and I wondered if she were wearing a bra.

“Mr Carlson,” she said, abruptly beginning her business, “We are looking for an accomplished photographer to film our new swimwear collection for our web-site. We are prepared to pay very well, and you have come highly recommended. However, I need to see your portfolio before I can make any decisions.”

“Certainly. I have several, but I think the one you will be most interested in is my portrait collection.” I stood to retrieve it from the bedroom. When I returned, I handed the portfolio to her, and stood next to her chair. The first several pages of the album are dedicated to simple head shots. These she moved past with seeming impatience. I could tell she was looking for something specific. She also breezed through my standard portraits, until she came to a series of black and white photos I had done for personal interest. These featured a stunning young woman in different degrees of undress in various parts of NYC. I had been inspired by the photos of Frank Wallis to attempt something similar. Instead of his images of women as architecture, I had attempted to represent my subject as unexpected decoration. In each photo, the girl had some portion of her sexuality exposed as it were by accident, to the stunned astonishment of passersby. And yet, despite the supposedly humiliating experiences, the young girl seemed entranced by her sudden freedom, her unexpected power to amaze.

Ms O’Phelan’s breath caught in her throat when she turned to the first of these pictures. All of a sudden, I had this lady’s character pegged. Desperate for some release for her sexuality and yet too embarrassed by it to let it show, she went through her days in an eternity of frustration. She wanted the freedom she saw in this young lady’s expression, yet did not dare take the risk necessary to achieve it. It would only take a few shoves, I estimated, to send her spiraling down the slope of her desire.

“See, you can see right up her skirt,” I murmured, gently, yet insistently, moving closer to her in the chair. I felt my prick begin to harden at the start of another game. I was standing with my hip only inches away from her ear. But she was too lost in examining the photograph to note my closeness.

“It’s hard to tell whether she tripped by accident, or faked it to get attention, isn’t it,” I went on. “In any case, I think she’s enjoying the end results.”

Her breath quickening, Ms O’Phelan turned the page. This time, the girl’s blouse had caught on a fence and ripped open, her naked breasts within suggested by the play of shadows and light. A woman, walking in the other direction had her hand over her mouth in astonishment, but the girl’s face seemed ecstatic.

“Her tits are out in the open, aren’t they,” I whispered. At the word “tits” Ms O’Phelan sighed slightly. My cock was pushing against the threadbare cloth covering it, and I stealthily undid the top button with one hand, while I leaned a little closer into her space. Her eyes flicked across to the next in the series. Here, the wind had flipped up the girl’s skirt in the back, showing her ass, unclad. The girl was actually laughing. A young man sitting nearby watched with very wide eyes.

“Naughty, wasn’t she, to go without panties on a windy day. But with an ass like that, how could anyone want to hide it?” Ms O’Phelan’s breath was shorter now, and she seemed to be feeling a little warm. She undid the buttons on her jacket and let it open. Underneath, she was wearing her white sheer blouse, covering a white lacy bra. Her breasts were heaving slightly, up and down. I released two more buttons on my jeans, and gently rearranged my cock so that it was standing up. If she had chosen to turn and look at me, she would have seen the head of my penis reaching up out of the V of the open pants. But she was too engrossed, too caught up in the experience of seeing someone live her fantasy.

She turned the page, and audibly gasped. On the subway platform, the girl’s skirt had been ripped off of her by a dog, revealing her freshly shaved pussy to a large number of onlookers. The girl’s expression was one of orgasmic delight.

“Look,” I purred, “there’s her cunt!” At the words, Ms O’Phelan closed her eyes and softly groaned. Her legs spread slightly under the album, and I could sense she wanted to scratch the itch she was feeling in her own cunt. I finished unbuttoning my pants, and allowed them to drop to the floor in a soft susurration. I stepped out of them, and my fully erect organ shamelessly pushed forward. I let the warm length of it rest against her cheek obscenely. She refused to look at it, but also did not pull away or resist its lewd onslaught.

“Turn the page,” I commanded softly, enjoying the power I had over her. She obeyed, her rapid breathing and her erect nipples pushing at the lace of the bra cups betraying her overwhelming arousal.

“Ohhhh…” she moaned at the next picture. Here the girl was standing in the middle of a subway car, wearing only a ripped blouse, gripped with one hand, and a pair of high-heeled shoes. Her eyes were closed, and her legs were slightly parted, revealing her nether lips, glistening in the fluorescent light. Some of the passengers looked away in embarrassment, while others, fascinated seemed unable to tear their eyes away from the remarkable sight. Ms O’Phelan, clearly, would have been one of the latter. I rubbed my prick against her warm skin, and reached up to her hair to remove the cruel barrette and pins holding it in check. In an instant, her gorgeous black tresses spread around her face. I let my cock slide through her hair, leaving a slight trail of pre-cum shining behind. She, clearly still overly heated, shrugged her jacket off her shoulders, and kicked her heels off her feet.

She glanced at the next photograph. Here my subject had quit the confines of the subway and was sitting on a park bench, her legs spread, one hand dipping to touch herself between her legs. Her blouse was wide open, and her other hand toyed with a dark nipple. A young man sat at the other end of the bench, watching with evident interest. Ms O’Phelan was continuously moaning now, and I guided my cock so that it rubbed across her lips. She made no move to stop me, but also did not take any initiative. It was clear that she needed me to push her all the way. I reveled in the rude sight of my member against this woman’s perfect features. I reached behind her and started to undo the buttons on her blouse. She sat, passively, but rubbed her legs against each other subtly under the portfolio.

“Fuck, John!” Kevin said finally. He ran his manicured hand through his dark hair and sighed deeply. John’s stomach sank. “I don’t know what to say, man.” He said, his face somber and yet astonished. “You’re a genius, man. That’s all I can say.”

John laughed out loud, the weight of the world lifted off his shoulders.

“No, no,” hurried Kevin. “I mean it! This is a masterpiece.” He pointed towards one of the paintings. “They all are.” He stood next to John and crossed his hands over his chest as if that helped him to admire the art before him better. “What is it? A mixture of Dadaism and Impressionism?”

Now it was John’s turn to be impressed. It was the combination of the two, as incredible as it sounded. With some of John’s own touch as he liked to think. He said nothing, caressing his own work with his eyes and yet feeling as if it hadn’t been him who was the creator, almost jealous of his own ability as he was afraid it would never surface again.

Suddenly Kevin jerked out of his trans-like state and grabbed John’s empty glass. “We need another drink. We need to celebrate; we’ve created something beautiful here. You and I.”

John felt another shiver snaking down his spine.

“So,” he continued Kevin while pouring. “How much will you charge me for them?”

Unprepared for the question, John shrugged his shoulders. “I haven’t really thought about it. I mean, I don’t really sell stuff before I display it.” Kevin paused and his face ceased radiating content that was evident in it a moment ago. “You know,” John continued, “like an exhibition.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Kevin offered the glass and dismissed John’s explanation with a wave of his hand. “But this is different, John. You can’t exhibit this. I told you I wanted you to paint it for me. It’s private. You’ve done that before, right?”

John shrugged his shoulders again. Standing next to Kevin he felt like a Neanderthal, unsophisticated and awkwardly clumsy. The feeling of discomfort returned.

“Well, I suppose I have…” he said and gulped. “But never with the paintings. I do commission work on pottery and china, not on paintings. Never on paintings.”

“Hm. That’s a problem, then.” Said Kevin, returning his gaze to the makeshift display. “I don’t want you to show them to anyone. I’ll pay well, whatever you want.”

John could have sworn that the apartment was air-conditioned, he felt the coolness of it when he first entered, but now it seemed to be boiling hot. His head swam and he began perspiring. The feeling of inadequacy deepened.

“What did you do with Isabella?” he asked suddenly, remembering the events of the previous morning.

“I didn’t touch her.” Said Kevin and a mischievous smile played across his face. No explanations were needed. “I didn’t do anything, I thought you wouldn’t appreciate it. At least, I figured I should check with you first. She’ll come back if I ask her to.”

The self-confidence of the man hit John hard. Isabella probably wouldn’t have come back to him if he begged her on his hands and knees, and here’s this…this…freak! And she’ll be running back?

“Don’t touch her. Leave her alone.” Said John and felt as if his knees were just about to give out. The warmth that he felt in his head became a headache. Sudden and powerful pounding entered his head and he closed his eyes for a moment, unable to understand its origins.

“Hm…” he heard Kevin’s voice floating somewhere in the distance. “I figured you’d say that. She’s not all that, if you truly want to be honest, John.”

John tried to will the headache to disappear and clear his head enough to show the other man that he couldn’t talk any kind of way about someone that he used to hold dear to his heart. He might not have trusted her, but he did love her. That sudden realization hit him hard.

“But I have to have someone, John. I have to feed my hunger with another human being.”

John tried to respond but couldn’t. He felt like his mouth had been glued together, his limbs suddenly felt heavy, pried together like the sensual lips on the ancient masterpieces of Greek stone statues. He tried to figure out how could he even remain standing. He felt as if he was about to pass out.

“You saved her, man. You saved her for now.” Kevin’s voice was very close to his ear. He could feel the other man’s breath on his cheek and it smelled sour, just like the wine. “You’re the one taking her place.”

John felt as if he was aware of the outcome all along, but didn’t really allow it to sink in. He tried hard not to close his eyes, as he believed that should he do that, he wouldn’t be able to open them again.

“You’re taking her place, buddy.” Kevin repeated and John could feel his strong arms hooking him under the armpits and dragging him out of the kitchen. “See,” he continued, bumping John’s shoulder against the doorframe. “If you were a wine drinker, you’d know that no good wine is this sour. And you can tell I only love the best, right?”

John’s mind seemed clouded in some respect. He couldn’t speak or move, and yet, the fogginess didn’t affect the comprehension and most of all fear. He was terrified. He would have thrown up if he could.

“Isabella knew what I do long before you did. She used to watch me late at night while you slept. Like you, the propriety of having me turned in to the authorities was overpowered by the greed for the unknown. She was the one who suggested you’d be glad to paint for me.”

John tried to convince himself this was all an invention of his drunken mind, although, he couldn’t find a rational explanation of how a grown man could become inebriated in two minutes.

“This was all her idea, John, I’m sad to say. You saw her coming out of my place yesterday and she decided you had to go. Just like the rest.”

Now, the horror was beyond anything John had ever felt. His Isabella? Surely not.

“You drank a tranquilizer. You won’t be able to move or talk and most importantly…” Kevin’s face popped in front of John’s eyes and it wasn’t handsome anymore. It had become a mask of perverse and decadent pleasure. “…Most importantly, you won’t be able to scream.”

John felt himself being thrown onto the bed and his legs lifted off the floor.

“Your heart and brain are on their way out, too.” Said Kevin and ripped John’s shirt wide open. “But I still have enough time to work on you and keep everything alive until needed.”

John could barely feel his pants being unbuttoned, unzipped and pulled off. His socks and underwear followed.

“Of course, you’ll feel everything.” Said Kevin and smiled, waving a pair of familiar scissors, brown with the rust and caked blood from the previous victims. “You’ll feel everything at least for a while, and you’ll hope for it to be finished soon.” He stabbed the point of one blade into John’s chest, just deep enough to puncture the skin and the pain was not as bad as John had expected. Not yet, anyway.

“But don’t you worry, my man.” Kevin slowly cut his way down his victim’s chest and stomach and this time, the pain had become excruciating. John’s entire body tingled with ache and terror, but he couldn’t move or make a sound. He believed that he would die of fear long before Kevin was to hold his still beating heart in his hands. “I’m a master, you see. Just like you, I’m a genius, only of a different kind. I could do this for hours and you wouldn’t die if that’s how I liked it.”

He dug deeper and farther down. John could feel his skin being cut and torn, the pain waving through his limbs like a thousand razorblades traveling through his veins. It was the feeling he had never known before. If it hadn’t been so painful, he would have thought it beautifully astounding.

As if only just remembering something very important, Kevin lifted his finger and waved it in the air like a conductor’s stick. “This wouldn’t be complete without an audience, would it?” He walked to the window and lifted the blinds.

In the window that John knew belonged to his studio stood a figure and for a moment he wasn’t certain he had really seen it or whether it was just his imagination. To his surprise, he could still roll his eyes despite the paralysis of everything else. The silhouette in the window removed something from its face and he recognized Isabella. She had been watching him with his own binoculars, just like he used to watch others.

“And now…” said Kevin and waved the huge butcher knife, which had been his tool in all of his performances. “Now… We being.” He whispered.

“As long as I can see it, he’s not hurting me,” was John’s last rational thought. The pain and madness flooded his failing brain and as the knife slowly sunk out of his view.

“You’re sure you’re ok?” he’d asked her worriedly.

“I’m fine Danny,” she’d assured him. “But I don’t remember any of it, not a single thing!”

It had taken nearly ten minutes for the affects of whatever the plant had used upon her to wear off. By then he’d redressed her, sitting her down where she slowly came around, momentarily bewildered as though waking up from a dream, though unable to remember it.

Danny had closed the shop shortly after that, taking Stacy upstairs to his rooms until he could be sure she was truly all right.

“You really don’t remember any of it?” he’d asked once again.

“No. One moment I was standing there, the next, I was sitting. I thought for a second I had had some sort of brain-fart or something, because I was absolutely clueless how I could have gone from doing one thing to the other without remembering that I had.”

“That thing is dangerous,” Danny said after a few moments reflection. “We need to destroy it, get rid of it,” he told her. “But let’s get you home first, take the day off tomorrow, rest and relax. Give me a day to think of some way to kill it,” he finished.

Danny drove Stacy home. By the time he returned, entered the shop, every single plant, tree, bush, flower that had once existed had been destroyed, all except for the creature itself that stood in the middle of all that destruction.

“No kill. Me kill,” it said simply.

#

By the end of the second month, the thing had tripled in size, now standing a good ten feet, the top of it’s even more humanoid like head just brushing the top of the stores ceiling.

After the incident upstairs, there had been no further discussion about destroying the creature. Not there anyway. They had in fact driven five miles away, once again risking it, talking openly about finding some means to actually kill the creature. Upon his return home back to the shop, all appeared just as he’d left it, telling him that whatever range the thing had, it was at least limited.

“Maybe it can’t always hear us,” Stacy had offered. “Maybe it actually sleeps.”

“We don’t know that. Hell Stacy, we don’t know anything about it other than what we do know, and that isn’t much. It’s a sex-crazed plant is about all we honestly do know. That, and it seems to be able to double in size every thirty days or so, though it does appear to be slowing somewhat. But even at this rate, we’re running out of time. Another month, and it will be too fucking big to even deal with!”

“So what are we going to do?” she’d asked.

“I don’t know Stacy, I honestly don’t know.”

#

There was an even bigger problem to deal with however. The plant had gone from needing to be fed every two or three days, to daily now. The affects of which were beginning to show on Stacy. Constantly ravenous herself now, continually eating, she was still losing weight, and now she had darkened bags under her eyes making her look even more sickly as well.

“Until we can think of something, we’re going to have to find a way to supplement its eating habits,” Danny had told her. “It’s already asked me to move it into the back room, so I’m thinking it’s already arrived at the same conclusion itself. Yesterday, when Mrs. Anderson came into the store, I’d gone into the back to grab her another bag of potting soil. When I returned, she was standing there with this stupefied expression on her face. With the ‘Plant’ standing so close next to her, I had no doubt it had sampled her after a fashion. A few seconds later she sort of popped back in, her expression confused momentarily as though she had dozed off.”

“Just like what happened to me.”

“Exactly. After that, I heard it say, ‘Move me!’”

“Move me?”

“Yeah…Move me, and then, I got this image, where it came from I don’t know, but this sudden image of one of those big rolling push carts we use for the really big stuff. I could see it sitting on top of one of those.”

“Oh great, now it wants mobility!”

“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking too Stacy. Whatever we are going to do, we better do it in a hurry, because I fear we really are running out of time. But at the same time, we’re going to have to find a way to feed it, other than using you all the time. If we don’t, it’s going to use you all up, and I think we both know that,” he told her worriedly.

#

It took every thing they had to move it onto one of the large flats they used for moving bulk items. Rolling the creature into the back area at least got it out of the way for simple walk-in customers. But its hunger was growing insatiably. For the moment, all they could do was feed it until they could come up with some way to destroy the thing.

“Good morning Mrs. Stevens!” Danny stated as a long time customer of his came into the store. “What can we do for you this morning?” he asked.

“I’m looking for some petunias,” she smiled. “I have the entire south-side of the garden area that I want to fill with them.”

Danny shot Stacy a knowing look. They’d been waiting for the perfect opportunity all morning. The creature had already expressed it was growing impatient, hungry. Stacy had stayed out of the back area entirely at Danny’s suggestion, but they couldn’t afford to wait much longer.

“I’ll be right with you!” he told her. “Stacy? Can I see you for a moment please?”

He met her near the back door. “Keep an eye on things up here,” he told her conspiratorially. “I doubt it will take too long, the things really hungry,” he added unnecessarily. “Just make sure no one comes back here.”

“You sure this is going to work?” she asked nervously.

“I hope so,” was all he could say. “As long as she doesn’t remember anything, it should!”

Danny walked back to where Mrs. Stevens was patiently waiting. “Mrs. Stevens? I think we have plenty of petunias for you to choose from. If you’d like to follow me into the back?”

He led her to the door, opening then holding it for her as she entered. “This way,” he said leading her down one of the long isles his eyes locked on to the ‘thing’ now as he turned pointing towards several tables filled with multicolored flats of petunias.

“Perfect!” the woman said smiling.

“I’ll get you a cart so we can put whatever you wish to purchase on it for carry out,” Danny suggested. He’d positioned Mrs. Stevens perfectly. And as expected, the creature suddenly reached out grabbing her, enfolding the woman within its leafy wings. There was but a brief momentary look of surprise, but then it was gone. Her face now serene, relaxed. Danny watched as the creature slowly, methodically began undressing its dinner.

In doing so, Danny also realized this was not going to be a ‘fast-food’ type of meal. They had let the creature go too long, it was going to take its time and savor the delicacy that it had been given. Danny had no choice but to stand there and watch. Whenever the creature was done, he would need to help redress and reposition her when she woke, then hope and pray that she wouldn’t freak out by her momentary lapse in awareness.

It had picked the woman up like a rag-doll. Its feathered leaves working independent, yet coordinated with one another as it peeled her like a banana, dropping away her clothing faster than one might imagine. As each item fell to the floor, Danny scrambled picking her clothing up, setting it off to the side in preparation for redressing her when the thing was finally done feeding off her.

“Feeding,” Danny mused as he now watched in revulsion as the creature lifted her slightly higher. For the first time, Danny saw what appeared to be a dark green sheath suddenly emerge from somewhere within the tangle of folded feathery leafs. He watched in abject fascination, as the creature seemed to ’skin’ itself, much like pulling back on the foreskin of a penis, the sudden appearance of a white tipped bark-like prick emerging. Danny nearly turned his head away, so repulsed by this, but watched anyway as the creature slowly slid it’s Xylem-like prick inside her, and began fucking her with it. “Not feeding, fucking,” Danny thought to himself. They weren’t feeding it. They were sacrificing to it so that it could simply fuck and thus temporarily satisfy it’s obvious carnal needs.

“Hmm, fuck me!” Danny heard for the first time. The chills now coursing up and down his spine. The creature had somehow made the connection, changing what it had been calling it, to what it really and actually was. And worse, Danny could almost feel as well as hear the mirth in its words as he heard them over and over again.

“Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me!”

Danny spun, hearing the sound of the double doors opening behind him. Stacy had heard it too, unable to keep her curiosity at bay. Danny tossed her an angry look. She stepped out, allowing the doors to close behind her once again.

“Shit!” Danny thought, turning back towards the creature as it extended poor Mrs. Stevens out even further away from itself, now slamming her onto it’s thick extended shaft with abandon, all the while its words being spoken over and over again.

“Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me!”

#

The thing held her, caressing her, using her everywhere at once. It was bad enough watching all that, but the expression on the poor woman’s face was one of pure unbridled ecstasy. There was no mistaking it, though she might not be aware consciously of what was occurring, her body certainly was. The thing played with her enormous breasts. Danny stood, sickeningly mesmerized by it, watching as it’s leafy, feathery like fingers toyed with the tips of her nipples, brushing them, teasing them.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” it now simply said, repeating itself over and over again. But worse, Mrs. Stevens was herself moaning, crying out in pleasure now, adding her own eerie little words to the bizarre coupling now taking place. “Fuck!’

“Me!” she said

“Fuck!’

“Me!”

“Fuck!”

“Me!”

As big as the creature’s phallus was, Danny couldn’t help but wonder if it would cause the poor woman damage. Later, much, much later, once she was back home, would she not wonder at the tenderness?” Danny considered. This really was getting out of hand. If they didn’t come up with a solution, and soon…somebody eventually would begin to wonder and start asking questions.

“Fuck!”

“Me!” she was giggling happily, the creature thrusting in and out of her now with a rapidity that caused it’s leafy-bushy form to shimmer, shaking almost violently. And then it climaxed!

The shrill of its release drove Danny down to the floor on his knees. He could almost hear the things cry of ecstasy as it reverberated inside his mind, echoing like thunder, though the high-pitched shrill of pleasure emanating from it more like a wail, until Danny realized that was in fact Mrs. Steven’s crying out in her own orgasmic bliss.

#

Danny barely managed to catch her before she toppled to the ground. The creature now spent, once again silent unmoving. Hurriedly he called out for Stacy, and then began dressing her as rapidly as it was possible for him to do. Stacy joined him moments later.

They had gotten her dressed, Danny having also loaded the cart with several flats, hoping he’d not over done it. He now stood holding her, feeling her slowly beginning to come around. Timing was everything. As her legs took on strength, he waited until the last possible moment before stepping away. She swayed momentarily, and then seemed to come into herself.

“Is there anything else we can do for you today Mrs. Stevens?” Danny asked cheerfully.

She looked at him curiously for a moment, her face showing a brief expression of bewilderment. She glanced down at the cart full of flowers. “Ah no, no…that should be it,” she stammered slightly, then looked back towards him and smiled. “Sorry,” she added. “I seem to have spaced off there for a second. Must be the heat!” she offered.

“Yes, it is going to be a rather hot one today,” Danny agreed. “I wouldn’t recommend you trying to plant these until much later this evening, or even preferably tomorrow morning. As long as you keep them wet, they should be ok.”

“Thank you,” she said then followed Danny out to the front where she paid for her purchases.

#

Their days were becoming nightmares, over and over, the same routine. Selecting someone, then ushering them out back under the pretense of showing them selections. The sudden attack, the mind-numbing altering capture by the sentient being, then the diatribe of the creature as it took its pleasure from its victims.

“Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me!”

And there had been one too many close calls. As in the case of Ms. Brown, who turned out to be a Mr. Brown. Obviously something that had been kept as a well-guarded secret in this quiet, tiny little community. Upon realizing this, Danny wondered briefly if the creature would become violent, angry at this unusual discovery. But to his shock and horror however, if anything, the creature seemed to enjoy this sudden unexpected diversity.

Danny stood motionless, paralyzed as the thing buggered Mr. Brown from behind. Worse, watching, as the creature seemed to enjoy stroking the poor man’s prick, watching as Mr. Brown eventually climaxed simultaneously with the now big bushy tree. Danny saw the poor man’s spunk fall upon several of the creature’s lower limbs. Amazingly, within seconds, all that sperm had been absorbed into its leaves.

When Danny and Stacy returned later, where those droplets of semen had approximately landed, the leaves were now even greener, healthier looking.

“Water…me!” It had now added to its repertoire “Water me!”

Danny reached for the hose; not fully understanding the sentient’s intent.

“No! You! Water…me!” It spoke.

“Ah Danny?” Stacy spoke actually trying to hold back a smile. “I think it wants you to jerk off on it!”

“No fucking way!”

“Way!” Stacy assured him.

Danny stood looking towards the creature with an incredulous expression on his face. “I’m not sure that I can Stacy. I mean the idea of actually doing that.”

“Oh, so it’s ok if the damn thing stands there and fondles me, but its not ok if you simply jerk off all over it?” she asked.

She had a point there.

“And one more thing,” she added. “This thing never IS ever…going to fuck me either! I don’t care how many women, or men…we have to lure back in here. This thing is never touching me again! I can’t even stand the thought of it slipping its, its…big woody prick or whatever the hell you call it, into me! Even the thought of that makes me sick!”

“Then don’t think of it in those terms,” Danny suggested. “Think in biological terms, call it a Xylem,” he suggested. “That’s how I have to think of it myself.”

“That would make it easier,” she agreed. “But it’s still waiting for you to ‘water’ it,” she reminded him, as it now did as well.

“Water…me!”

“Shit!” Danny said unzipping his pants.

“Maybe if I helped?” Stacy asked.

“Well, that would make it easier,” Danny sighed in relief as Stacy began working him up enough to water the plant.

#

After closing that night, they had driven the five miles to a nearby park. After several semi-dangerous ‘tests’, they had finally determined there really was a limitation in its abilities. At least here they could talk freely, safely.

“It’s getting worse each and every day,” Stacy concurred after they’d been chatting for a while. “At some point, something’s going to go wrong, or someone’s going to remember something.”

“I know,” Danny responded. “But so far I haven’t been able to come up with anything. And worse, you know as well as I do, the minute either one of us even thinks in terms of harming it, it defends itself with that ability to pervade your thoughts, that shrill sound that’s dropped me to my knees more than once!”

“What are we going to do?” Stacy said asking the obvious. But it was a rhetorical question anyway.

“I don’t know Stacy, all we can do is wait. Wait for whatever opportunity presents itself, no matter what it might be, then act on it. That’s about all we can do. Because whatever we do, we can’t plan it because it will know about it even before we act on anything!”

“So in the meantime, we keep feeding it women to fuck, and you keep masturbating on it whenever it asks for it,” she stated simply.

“Yeah, sort of gives me the creeps just thinking about that too!” he admitted. “Though you jerking me off does help quite a bit,” he added.

“Danny?”

“Yeah?”

“Make love to me.”

“Here?” He said looking about. They were alone.

“Yeah, here. Right now!” she said already beginning to remove her clothing. Danny kissed her, his excitement building as he spread out his clothing for her to lie on, then entered her softly, tenderly.

Back at the shop, the creature stood happily jerking itself off. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” it repeated excitedly to itself. The crystal clear image of Danny making love to Stacy on the lawn at the park very much on its mind while it did.

#

Two days later it had been Stacy’s turn to open the shop. As she still did, she had come in even earlier than that in order to give each of the new budding roses a nipple kiss. Something she had continued doing, though grateful that all were located in the front of the flower shop, and not in the back where the sound of the creature could even now be heard as it propelled itself slowly up and down the isle on it’s make-shift rolling legs.

Danny had actually slept in. He and Stacy had shared a long exhausting, but pleasurable night of lovemaking at her place. It was the sound of her scream that woke him. Startled, Danny jumped from his bed wearing nothing more than his under-shorts, sprinting down the stairs where he saw Stacy standing there.

“What’s wrong?” he called out worriedly. Stacy turned looking up towards him as he made his way down the rest of the stairs.

“It scared me!” she stated more calmly now. Having arrived by her side, Danny could see why. The thing had propelled itself through the swinging double doors where it now sat, half in and half out of the two rooms.

“What?” Danny actually found himself asking it. “What is it you want now?”

With a ‘thump’ a small dirt clod landed on the floor just beside the creatures rolling cart. Danny stood motionless looking at it, then slowly approached nervously picking up the clay-like looking substance. He almost dropped it again. Along one side sat a mossy green patch of newly formed fungus.

“Feed it!”

“Shit!” Danny exclaimed out loud. “Not another one!”

“FEED IT!” The creature repeated almost angrily this time, the soft buzz of its angry shrill only then forming inside Danny’s mind.

“Ok, ok!” he answered, appeasing it momentarily. “What is it you want us to do?”

The image that came to Danny’s mind as well as Stacy’s was repulsive in nature. He spun looking towards her. “No fucking way!” she stated simply. In seconds, Danny was down on his knees in shear blinding agony. Unaffected for reasons unknown to her, Stacy stood watching Danny as he rolled on the floor writhing in agony.

“Fuck! All right! All right!” she relented. “Leave him alone, please don’t hurt him any more, I’ll do it! I’ll do it!”

Mercifully, Danny felt the torturous shrill suddenly soften, not quite going away, remaining in the back recess of his mind like a warning buzz. “Don’t do it Stacy!” he moaned, still feeling the after affects of his torment.

“I don’t have a choice,” Stacy said softly, then dropped to her knees in front of where the creature sat waiting for her. Seconds later, his hard stiff leafy shaft appeared from somewhere within the depths of its thick foliage, the white tip suddenly appearing, lengthening.

“Feed it!” they both heard once again.

Though she felt as though she were about to gag, throwing up, Stacy began sucking the stock-like wooden stick. As she did, she felt a quivering sense of pleasure through its appendage that again repulsed her, though she continued. Danny could only lie there on the floor, still not fully recovered yet as he saw her giving what they both now referred to it as, ‘The cunt-fucking beast’ a blowjob.