The Monkey's Penis Ch. 9

I pulled out my pecker, and Mom was on her knees, sucking my cock down her throat before I could even get my hands back out of the way.

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So that's the story according to Paul. Last week his grandfather passed away and he cried some, but then today the penis came certified mail.

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"Wait a second," Mom whispered to me. "Something weird just happened. Paul was talking, telling us about his grandfather and mother, but then Katie suddenly starts wrapping up the story. What's with that?"

"Actually, Katie's been talking the whole time, Mom. She was just telling us what he said to her during her introduction to the penis."

"Oh. Still ...."

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So I had fun, having Paul fuck his mom, then comparing her to what he imagined I'd be like. She was feeling pretty awful by the time we left."

"Cunt," Mom growled.

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Oops: need to shift out one more level.

"Cunt," Mom growled.

Somewhere ... someWHEN ... the cackle of a monkey echoed.

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"Okay, let me get this straight, then," David said. "Katie, you wished for Paul to be your slave."

Katie swallowed. Her juices had filled the cubicle to the top of her breasts, six inches from her mouth. If it didn't stop soon, she'd drown in her own lubricant. "Y-yes."

"But you didn't fuck him."

"No."

"But you made his mother feel like shit."

"Yes."

"Cunt," Mom repeated.

"What did you wish on me?"

"I wished for you to have a huge pleasure tool, then Paul and I rushed right over. I had no idea, though, that I would NEED the juice so badly. Curses! I'd have succeeded in my foul plan if it weren't for that. That and that little doggie of yours too!"

"Hey!" Mom shot back. "I am NOT!"

"Hush, both of you," David snapped. "Now, how did you change my mom?"

"He, he. I made her nipples into 'yes' buttons, so Paul could press them and she'd say, 'Oh, okay. Yes.' And I made her pussy into a 'hell, yes!' button. Or, actually, sort of an anti-button since a pussy is more of a hole than a projection you can push."

"Yeah, yeah," David cut her short.

"That's about it. I've only had so much time to-- "

"A good thing, too, David!" Lydia put in, stepping between David and the glass cubicle. "Do you HEAR what insidious plans she HAD for us?!"

"What ... uhm ... plans were those, Mom?"

"Why, you just HEARD her! She made Paul's mother feel really bad about herself. And she had the same twisted fate in mind for ME!"

"Uhm, yeah. Terrible fate, Mom. Paul!" David turned to him.

"Please! Release my love!"

David looked at Katie, and, actually, the liquid WAS high enough that she was starting to blow nose bubbles. Sighing, David held forth the penis. "I wish that Katie was free of the cubicle. And that she craves the taste of my jism and Mom's cunt above all else."

Suddenly, Katie was sitting on the carpet, legs spread wide, her whole body well-lubricated, but not drowning. "Let me ... let me suck you, David ... please!"

"Later, Katie. Paul."

"Yes, freer of my love?"

"You were going to wish huge, extra-sensitive gazongas on my mom?"

"That's what I said earlier."

"And if that hadn't broken her will, if she had still resisted becoming a slut, what would you have wished next?"

"Why, that she craved sex so bad that she couldn't resist. And then, if she'd have gone to the bathroom, I think I'd've thought to make her rectum so extra-sensitive that she would crave anal sex."

"Interesting."

"And if you'd have gotten pissed about that, I think I would've wished for you to become a girl! Yeah! and I would have wished for our English professor, Mrs Mulholland, to be unable to stop saying corny, lewd things! AND be unable to stop peeing herself! And THEN, I would've wished for a special hat to turn your girlfriend into a dumb sex bunny!"

"Why? Why would you do all of these things?"

"Because SHE! -- my eternal true love, of course -- made my mom feel bad!"

"Twisted," Lydia muttered.

"But ...," David finished thinking this through as he spoke. "You would have done all these horrible things because she made your mom feel bad, but ... but if you had done them, she would be a dumb sex slut and never have the chance to make your mom feel bad."

"But she would have made her feel bad the OTHER time through here!" Paul nodded.

"The other time?"

"Yeah! The OTHER time! THIS time! The time when Katie DOES show up at my house."

"I don't-- "

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The monkey chuckled.

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Before you sits a physical god of a man, radiating sheer megalithic sexual prowess, hunched over, scribbling on a pad of paper.

He becomes aware of your presence and looks up. "Hey! You're not supposed to be here! I'm writing about you!"

"About me?" you ask.

"No! About him!" He points to someone beside you that looks like what you imagined David to look like. Then he points at you. "YOU'RE supposed to be reading this. Well, not this part. This part is supposed to be behind the scenes where you never see it."

"But I just-- " you begin.

"No, no. I don't care. You're not supposed to be here, either. Out! Out! Get out!"

As he walks toward you, flicking his hands to shoo you, you read the Arabic script on his shirt pocket (for some reason you can now read Arabic): Jafar.

"Hey! Aren't you-- " you begin.

"What if I am?"

"But aren't you supposed to-- "

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The monkey finished writing his name on the wall with his urine stream and then put the little monkey away back in his trousers. Well, that is, if he HAD trousers ....

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"Jesus!" David gasped. "ENOUGH of THAT! My head is spinning."

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(To Be Continued)