Passion and Lust 01

Slowly, she pulled him in. Her lower lips kissed his tip with the hard, chilly touch he knew, but as his member disappeared inside of her, his entire body tensed up. A powerful rush of pleasure crashed into his body like a wave against the shore. Her insides were real! Flesh! And as tight as Allen could fathom! He relaxed his hips, allowing the statue to do all the work, moving his body as she saw fit with her eight arms. Her vagina alone could've sucked Allen dry—the muscle control she had over it was impossible. It pulsed and grabbed at his cock with impeccable strength and rhythm, as if it knew exactly how to stimulate him best.

Each thrust blurred his vision and forced grunts out his throat. His thoughts could keep up with neither her devastating pace nor the array of pleasures with which her body assaulted him. He watched her face become more animated, fueled by the intensity of his bliss. Any thought of escaping this place and returning to the outside world were lost. Allen devoted his willpower to holding on, suppressing that growing urge to come, and squinted his eyes shut.

The statue wrapped Allen's arms around her and pulled his head onto her shoulder, grip tightening where her eight hands held him. Working his hips faster, the statue constricted on his member with such force his eyes flew open. She matched her rhythm to his, gyrating her hips in such a way that he hit every angle of her dripping pussy. Allen knew he couldn't hold on much longer. He hugged her close, her stone skin now warm and soft beneath his hands. The shoulder he rested his chin on was heating as well, but Allen hardly gave it a passing thought. His grunts grew louder, her relentless thrusts finally bringing him to the edge.

Gnashing his teeth, Allen drove his stiffness as deep as possible into the hungry statue, crying out as a lightning bolt of pleasure shot up his body. Seed spurted into the statue's eager pussy, Allen now a slave to its milking motions. Wave after wave of pleasure rushed forth, filling the statue to the point she began to leak. Even Allen was surprised with how long she was able to make him come, but eventually he relaxed, sighing as his member softened.

But the statue was not yet satisfied. Her arms slowed the pace at which she moved Allen in and out, but they did not stop. After a short rest, her soaking inner walls began pressing up against his cock as well.

"C'mon, lady," muttered Allen, "I can't give you what I don't have."

His statement fell on deaf ears. Allen tried to detach himself, but the statue strengthened her grip and pulled him in harder. Allen's strength was no match, not to mention he'd been exhausted from the previous orgasms.

"This is pointless. I can't—I can't..."

As if by some miracle, Allen started hardening. The moment he reached full erection, the statue sped up again, sending Allen barreling toward a third climax. He could hardly believe what was happening, but his body couldn't lie. Of course, now that he thought about it, statues coming to life is a little stranger than three straight rounds of sex.

Bliss undulated his shaft, the statue's pussy still strong and eager. He had not the tenacity nor the willpower to resist the statue's workings. He squirmed in her grip—now warm instead of cold—but her grasp never faltered. His heart beat like a drum, one Allen feared would burst if this continued. Slapping sounds of Allen's crotch hitting the statue's mixed with moans and pants, echoing throughout the chamber.

The statue disarmed him with a sudden squeeze and hilting. He gasped as another orgasm rocked his body, feeding her what her body so viciously desired. Just as last time, she rode him through the entire climax, ensuring to drain every last spurt.

Utterly spent, Allen went limp in the statue's iron grip. Drool dribbled from his mouth and his head likely would've slumped off her shoulder had she not moved a hand to hold it in place. She also had the care to wipe the drool away, but to Allen's shock, she still wanted more.

Allen's protest was an incoherent mumble, his resistance nothing more than an errant twitch. But why would he want to escape, anyways? Her body was a perfected machine of ecstasy and she desired nothing more than to show him what it could do. Nothing Allen had ever experienced was like it and getting away was impossible. Why not enjoy it? The corners of Allen's mouth curled up into a goofy smile as he felt himself grow hard yet again. His eyelids grew heavy. His chest screamed for rest between his labored breathing and the strain on his heart. All he had to do was relax.

Coherent thought broke against the waves of pleasure that buffed his body. The slightest movement electrified Allen with rapture. Time slowed down in his heavenly prison. Each glorious thrust was like a million fireworks going off in his head and his member. When release finally found him again, all he could offer was a sigh.

Blackness took him.

~~~

And blackness released him.

Light seeped into Allen's eyes as he lazily opened them. His first thought questioned whether he was still alive or in the afterlife. Groaning, he tried to sit up, but his back and elbow protested with shocks of pain. Nope, not dead yet. Grabbing the injured elbow, he brought it up for a look. The long, dark bruise was still there, reminding him where he was and how he got there. He cursed to himself and dropped his arms to his sides. Stupidity. That's what brought him here. And then greed made things worse. He checked his pocket for the jewel, but came up with nothing. He found it a second later on the ground next to him and picked it up, looking at it in the glow of the fire. It must have released some kind of hallucinogen and knocked him out, because he could've sworn an eight-armed statue of a woman—a beautiful one, at that—fucked him unconscious.

Scrunching up his face, he shifted to look at the top of the stairs he lay at the base at. No statue. He shook his head. I've had plenty of shit for one day. I need to get home, take a long shower, and take a nap in my nice, comfortable bed. Then all this will just seem like a bad dream. He paused to rub his chin, thinking about the sex hallucination. Okay, only sorta bad.

With no small amount of effort, Allen got to his feet and pocketed the gem. If the statue wasn't real, that still left him with the problem of getting out of here. He considered the brazier next to him. It looked to stand a little over five feet, which might be enough. Couldn't know for sure without checking first, though. As he walked back toward the hole, he considered what his first action would be after getting out of here and taking a nap. Might have to stop by the gas station and get a pack of Marlboros. A long, sweet drag in the parking lot sounded hella good right now. After that, well, business. There was one gem appraiser that he'd gone to when first researching this jewel. He had given Allen an approximate value, maybe Allen could give him the chance to tell him a more exact number. A little reward for helping him in the first place.

Allen stepped into the room with the initial hole in the ceiling, then froze.

Facing the wall on his right, a rather tall woman stood inspecting the writing Allen noticed earlier. Just like in his hallucination, she had eight arms; two at her sides, two resting on her hips, two crossed in front of her and two following the writing as she read. Instead of a stone person, however, this was a full skin, muscle and bone woman. The accessories on her wrists and arms were no longer rock, either, but reflected tints of gold and silver. With the brazier in the room behind him and very little light coming from the hole in the ceiling, Allen couldn't make out much more.

For a moment, he hoped he was still seeing things.

"Hello?"

The woman stopped, turning her head toward Allen. She smiled at seeing him and her arms all fell into a relaxed position at her sides.

"Greetings." She started toward him in great strides, those thick, tall legs of her carrying her quickly across the room. When she stepped into the light coming off the brazier, he could make out more detail. Her skin was darker, an olive brown of a woman from further south. Her hair was impressively long, extending down past her shoulders, a dark brown that shone in the weak light. The smile she wore accentuated her smooth yet broad cheeks. Her nose wrinkled just a bit and her striking azure eyes held a touch of hopefulness with the rest of her gentle yet formal disposition.

Of course, gentle disposition or not, a six-and-a-half-foot woman was still intimidating. Allen took a half step back, swallowing before speaking.

"So, hi and everything. I assume you're not just a figment of my imagination?"

She reached out with one of her slender arms and pinched Allen on the shoulder.

He winced and touched the aching spot. "Guess that answers that."

Two pairs of her arms crossed underneath her ample bosom, accentuating her breasts as they spilt over her arms. Allen assumed it wasn't on purpose, as her face was now business.

"I assume, given the fact you dug straight here and you took the jewel, you have some idea of what this place is, correct?"

He rubbed the back of his neck, looking about. "Eh, no, not really. I mean, I knew what I was coming for, but not much else." The woman would be a little easier to talk to if she wasn't so damn attractive, not to mention her breasts were just slightly lower than eye level. And she's practically naked. And she just fucked him. And has eight arms. Alright, she's not easy to talk to at all.

"And how much is 'not much else'?" She rested a pair of hands on her hips. From her tone, she wasn't so thrilled with Allen's incursion.

"Well, heh, you see, I knew this place was devoted to a symbol of, uh, sexuality." He gulped, watching her face for a hint of further anger. "And that it probably had a very valuable gem. I was after the gem." Pulling it out of his pocket, it displayed it like a peace offering.

The woman snatched it out of his grasp and jabbed him in the chest with a finger. "You have no idea what you've done! What were you hoping to get out of this? Money?"

Allen bit his lip, the jab at his chest fueling his anger. "Hey, it ain't my job to know what the heck old-as-hell shit like that gem is supposed to do! I'm not exactly living the life here, and that thing was my ticket to better days!"

She opened her mouth to rebuke him, but instead shook her head, lower her arms and sighing. "I'm sorry. I seem to be somewhat irritable at the moment. And I owe you an apology. Why don't we have a seat by the brazier as we talk? The cold doesn't do much to me, but I can tell it's already having an effect on you."

Allen regarded her a moment before realizing he had goosebumps crawling up his arms. Reluctantly he nodded, rubbing his arms. The woman gestured toward the flame, placing four hands on Allen's back and lightly guiding him back to it as they walked over. She sat down on the steps, touching the ground next to her, asking Allen to sit down. He complied, but not without putting a little extra distance between himself and the woman. She leaned back, putting four arms behind her for support, two in her lap and two at her sides. It was oddly fascinating for Allen to watch her function with the extra limbs. She communicated relaxation with the arms behind her, calmness with the arms in her lap, and a touch of curiosity and concentration with the arms at her sides. He wondered what it would feel like to have eight arms himself. Would certainly help with multitasking.

"I see my many limbs are an object of interest for you."

Blinking, Allen caught her eyes and shook his head. "Oh, sorry, no, I didn't mean anything by it. But yeah, it's not something you see every day."

"Relax. I took no offense. And, as I said, I owe you an apology." She shot him a smile, but Allen remained wary.

"Forgive me for not relaxing in this particular situation." He shifted around and took his lighter out of his pocket, twiddling with it. "What exactly were you going to apologize for?"

"My method of greeting you. When I was still made of stone. It was... abrupt, to say the least and not the most comforting of encounters for you. Please understand, I do not mean to make an excuse for myself, but had I not copulated quickly after—"

"Can you at least cut the 'proper' vocabulary? It's a little annoying."

"I'm sorry, I'm not what you might call adept with your language, yet."

The lighter stopped and Allen turned to the woman. "You sound pretty 'adept' to me."

She closed her eyes, crossing a pair of arms over her chest. "That leads me back to my apology. I'm sorry I—fucked? Is that the best word?—you so suddenly and melded with your brain."

"Well, I gotta admit—wait, melded with my brain?" Allen grabbed at his head, checking for holes. "What the hell did you do?"

"Again, I do not mean to excuse myself, but in order to return to the form I am in now, I needed to have sex with someone. I also recognized your attire was odd and my surroundings were nothing like when I went to sleep, so I chose to look into your thoughts to learn your language and 'get caught up', so to speak."

"So you brain-fucked me, too."

Her eyes rolled up, wracking her brain for an answer. "That... sounds accurate."

"Did you mess anything up while you were in there? 'Cause if I find I'm suddenly an Eagles fan..."

She waved a hand in dismissal. "No. I was merely an observer. I modified nothing."

"Well, shit." Allen leaned forward, bringing his knees to his chest and staring at the lighter. The sex, well, that could've ended a bit sooner, but he was still alive and it felt pretty damn good. No harm done. He found himself a bit more upset about the mind-fucking than anything else. She could've gotten into his memories, the more private ones, ones he wasn't so thrilled to dreg up. How much did she already know about him? How much of a disadvantage was he at? Shaking his head, he glanced over at her, seeing if she gave anything away in her posture. He saw a touch of hesitation, but nothing more. What really fucked with him was the whole situation. Statues coming to life? That jewel being something more than just a jewel? And who was this woman, anyways?

He rubbed his scalp with his hands. No, there's one thing he came here for. The rest didn't matter.

"Give me the jewel, and we're even."

"I can't do that."

"What kinda apology is it if you're not trying for forgiveness at all? What I came here for was the jewel. Any sort of inconvenience you gave me doesn't matter as long as I walk outta here with that thing."

Frowning, she brought the jewel in front of her, holding it tight. "You don't know what you've done by removing it. I have a duty to set things right again, and that includes the use of this. You cannot have it."

Allen gripped his lighter harder, flicking it on. "Well, why don't you enlighten me?"

She regarded Allen with narrowed eyes, then put the jewel down. "Yes, why don't I. But first I should tell you my name. It will help in explaining things. I am Nel-Vallae, though you may call me Nel."

"I like Val better."

A few of her hands twitched at the statement. "Very well. Val. In my time, many, many years before this age, I was Passion. I still am, though that title means little now. I governed the realms of arousal and sex with my sister, Lust. We were—are—like ying and yang, maintaining the human population by ensuring they always had healthy drives. I—"

"Okay, hold your shit right there, lady. I'll admit, I'm a little more open to crazy stuff after actually seeing you transform from statue to human and watch you operate those eight arms of yours, but you're telling me you're a... a god of sex? And you have a sister? C'mon."

"This would be quicker if I placed the knowledge directly into your brain." She moved as if to stand, but Allen scooted away, throwing up his hands.

"Hey! No! No more screwing with my head."

"Very well. But you are going to need to work with me."

Allen put a hand on his forehead and grumbled. "Fine. Fine. I'll go along with this for now. But you're still just a really old eight-armed woman to me. Who happens to be tall as a tower and used to be a statue."

Rolling her eyes, Val continued her story, though not without a hint of annoyance. "Earlier in humanity's lifetime, they were watched over by spirits—not gods or goddesses, as you suggested. I am the aspect of attraction involving character traits and intensity of arousal. My sister, Lust, is the aspect involving physical traits and flavor of desires. We cooperated for a long time, watching over everyone, tweaking things where necessary."

"'Tweaking'?"

"Yes. Some people would have unhealthily powerful drives which I could soothe. Some people would feel their relationships wither with dullness, and my sister would be able to instill new desires to breathe life into their union. I helped guide people to their best matches, Lust would ensure their bodies matched as well. We also, well... while we were seen as symbols, that did not mean we were without our own desires. In fact, our appetites were the strongest of anyone's. Luckily, the problem had worked itself out. Many would come to us and we would happily help them find relief." Val's head hung low. "That is, until Lust decided she wanted more."

"What did she do?"

"With the number of people coming to us, there was no need to seek satisfaction elsewhere, but Lust did so anyways. She would slip into a disguise, deceive people into having sex with her, and disappear. Now, had that been her only offense, there may had been a simple solution. But she began shirking her duties in favor of amusement. She would make partners suddenly crave more depraved flavors of sex. She dramatically shifted attraction to members of the same sex, which led to an alarming drop in births. She sought to explore her own sexuality at the expense of others, and I could not let it stand." Shaking her head, Val turned to Allen. "But we were equals. And not only that, one would not function without the other. I needed a way to stop her while allowing her role to be continued. The first thing I tried, of course, was to talk sense into her. Make her see what she was doing, appeal to what sense of selflessness she used to have, but it was to no avail. So I created this."

She picked up the jewel and held it to the light of the brazier. "The Binding Stone. Created of the heart of the Earth, of humans, of my sister, and myself. It had a dual purpose: imprison my sister, and broadcast the necessary urges into people in her absence. In order to imprison her, however, I had to act as an anchor of sorts and hold her in imprisonment. The Stone was our replacement. I tricked my sister, weakened her, and in her moment of weakness affixed this Stone to my forehead. Our bodies were turned to stone, our souls cast out into a timeless limbo." She stared into the jewel as if it might begin speaking to her. "I still wonder if I should regret it."

"If you ask me, she sounded like kind of an asshole."

She jerked her head in Allen's direction and narrowed her eyes, a grimace on her face. "She was my sister, regardless of her actions. Something had to be done, yes, but there might have been another way."

"Are you sure?"

"No, hence lies the difficulty." Val stood up, gripping the jewel in two hands while the others curled to fists. "But perhaps now you realize the dilemma you have created."

Allen flicked his lighter a few more times, pausing to cough several times into his sleeve. "She's free now, isn't she."

"Yes."

"Sorry if this seems like an obvious question, but can't you just put that jewel back on your forehead and trap her again?"