Decoys

Acquisition

His full name was Oscar Zoroaster Phadrig Isaac Norman Henkle Emmannuel Ambroise Diggs, but ya' doesn't have to call him Diggs (or Johnson for that matter, unless you are talking about his supreme possession). The few friends he had simply called him "Oz." He sat in his Lincoln and watched the cleavage parade on the north side of the Strip, transformed into a chiaroscuro by the raindrops on the tinted window of his MKZ. It was dirty work, but somebody had to do it. He was boundlessly grateful that he was the one chosen to bear this particular cross.

Most of the girls had dressed for the rain, meaning that many of them sported soaked white tee shirts over eye-popping Victoria's Secret bras. The bras appeared to optional, and the soaked cotton did little to hide the bra burners' anatomies. Their nipples seemed to point directly at Oz, telling him that he was the One. The whores' long hair, stringy and wet in the downpour, was erotic in a primal way, their mouths were so many Eves awaiting their serpents. He ought to have scales instead of skin, Oz mused, to increase the pleasure of sliding down their hungry open mouths and into their many other orifices, all of which would likewise greedily open to admit him once they had been properly prepared.

As the Lincoln made its third pass around the block, Sister Mary bent a little forward, giving the driver an optimal view of her essentially naked chest. This had to be the guy. She knew it by instinct and many years of literally hands-on experience.

The car slowed, and the driver rolled down the passenger-side window. Mary leaned through the window, dangling her massive wet breasts over the Lincoln's front seat. Beads of water dripped from her fully erect rosy nipples onto the fine leather seats of the luxury vehicle. This was especially unfortunate collateral damage, as Mary really liked leather, sometimes perhaps a little too much for her own good.

The driver's eyes were hidden behind mirror sunglasses, making it hard to read him. Her mouth whispered, "You lookin' for a date, mister?"

"A date? Where did you learn your whoring, girl? From basic cable TV?"

"Sorry, but that's the only word the rubes that trawl this street seem to understand. So how about a little company for a stimulating session of repartee, then?"

"Trawl? Repartee? You've got a sizable vocabulary for a street ho, little lady." Oz said. "Or should I say big lady, in view of those mammoth gazongas hanging through my window?

"Are you sure you're not a cop like all the rest of these whores and johns out here?" he asked, waving his hand at the Strip. "It's not safe out here for anyone else, what with the Magdalene Slayer out crucifying whores night after night. Way too dangerous for an educated flower such as yourself, even if you are bottom-feeder with a taste for danger."

"I'll prove to you I'm no cop," she whispered. "Just let me in your ride."

Oz unlocked the doors, and Mary stepped in and plopped down on the shotgun seat without any noticeable regard for the fine leather upholstery. Her dripping tanned legs and complexly-laced spike heels marked her as something apart from the typical crack hos that patrolled the Strip during this time of night.

Her left hand immediately went to his crotch and grabbed him right through his suit pants. She started to slide her hand up and down his rapidly hardening cock, tracing its length with her long fingernails. She definitely knew what she was doing.

"What's the damage going to be?" he asked her.

"Mostly to my pristine reputation," she laughed. "But basically $500 an hour, $150 for a handjob, $200 for a blowjob, and $400 to ball me."

"What would it cost to penetrate your ass with a baseball bat?"

"You can do anything you want to me, baby. But the rate for unrestricted access to my body is $3000 an hour plus medical expenses."

"And will you do anything to my body that I ask you to?"

"It's already covered in the $3000 hourly rate," she said.

"And if we bring in other people?"

"All covered in the three grand, unless I'm paying for them," she whispered. "Exactly how kinky are you planning to get, anyway?"

"I can get plenty kinky."

"So can I," she informed him, tracing the fingers of her right hand over his lips and running them down his chest to his crotch. Using both hands, she unzipped his fly and pulled him out.

Oz reached around her, wrapping his arms around her wet tee shirt, and took her drenched boobs in his hands, running his palms across her throbbing rose-colored nipples.

"Whataya say we start the clock?" she whispered.

"Right here on Sunset Boulevard?"

"Sure baby, nobody's going to see us through the tinted windows on your MKZ. But we can see them trying to. It'll be kinky as hell."

In answer, Oz rose slightly from his sitting position, and Mary teased him, her thumb and index finger forming a tight ring around his naked throbbing shaft, which she began to run up and down the considerable length of that organ.

Oz's strong arms squeezed her in a bear hug, as he mauled both of her massive boobs with his paws. She began to pump him in earnest, bringing him again and again to the point of orgasm but each time denying him the release he sought so desperately. She suddenly slid the fingers of her other hand beneath his pants to grab his balls. He wanted to explode as she rotated his testicles in time with the pumping of her hand up and down his naked shaft, but each time he got close she held back.

"Arrrrrgh. Damn it. Give it too me you worthless cunt. I can't TAKE this anymore!" Oz screamed.

This last remark drew a crowd of onlookers trying to peer through the tinted glass of the Lincoln.

"I kinda like it," Mary whispered. " It's good to have an audience don't you think?"

"No, especially not when most of them are cops with a hair trigger and a hard-on for the Magdalene Slayer."

"OK, OK. I'll put a gag order on myself...quite literally," Mary whispered, and plunged her mouth down hard, trying to ram Oz's cock past her throat. Oz's organ proved to be too long to take in on the first try and its thickness almost filled her entire mouth. She backed up to admire him. His was the longest and thickest shaft she had ever encountered in her extensive sexual travels.

She squeezed his balls hard as she impaled her head upon him for the second time. He took in a deep breath and rose up to meet her, and his cock battered its way past her throat into the uncharted regions of her esophagus.

She could still breathe through her nose, and she closed her lips around the thickness of his phallus and began to bob her head up and down. Oz grasped her head in his powerful hands and forced his cock past her throat with each thrust. His hands felt like a vise as they plunged Mary's head up and down in time with Oz's cruel thrusts.

She squeezed his balls with both hands now, her only path to redemption, crushing them like a tube of toothpaste. Oz exploded inside her mouth, his hot torrent pouring down her throat, filling her belly with its warmth. "Sweet Mary, mother of God," he roared, squeezing her head as his body quivered in postcoital bliss. His roar drew back several of the would-be eyewitnesses, who had begun to disperse. The audience was definitely SRO now. Mary cradled Oz's head tightly against her sopping wet boobs. She wished this night would never end.

Mary watched the eyes of the would-be onlookers as they clamored against the car, trying to find a spot that would grant them a glimpse of the heaven within, however brief that glimpse might be. These hopes were, however, frustrated by the opaqueness of the Lincoln's flawlessly tinted glass.

Incredibly, Oz began to rise again.

"Please roll the seat back, honey," Mary whispered. "I want to feel that inside of me. This one is all for me. Consider it a freebie," she said as she pulled her wet tee shirt over her head and threw it on the floor beneath the passenger seat.

Oz was surprised at the risen state of his organ. He knew he was far randier than the typical johns this whore sucked off on a nightly basis. But still, this was a record even for him. The docs had informed him that his testosterone levels were off the charts, even for rapists. Oz's shrink had even offered him a form of chemical castration as a way to relieve his constant sexual hunger. But Oz's joystick was the center of his life. So he had passed on the good doctor's kind offer of chemical castration. As for the shrink, his body was long gone and would not be missed, unlike Oz's body, for which thousands of women across the American southwest would hunger for time and time again in their dreams and in their crotches. Of course, the vast majority of them no longer had crotches, or bodies for that matter. They would pine for him in heaven. He was their personal St. Peter, the one who had pried opened the Pearly Gates and gave them a taste of what heaven was really like.

The whore in the passenger seat hiked up her miniskirt, stepped over him, and straddled him. No underpants for this one. She was deliciously wet and was able to take in six inches of him on the first try. Oz felt the wetness of her soaked boobs through his shirt, the softness of her breasts, and the hunger of her cunt as she rose and drove herself down on his magnificent schlong once again.

She put her hands on Oz's neck and squeezed as she rose and then violently dropped down on him again, this time with sufficient force to rock the car. That drew more onlookers, their eyes swarming over the windows of the vehicle trying to glimpse the fervid erotic activity within.

Mary rose up and dropped once again with all her might, impaling herself on the full length of Oz's gargantuan shaft. It stretched her inner walls to hitherto unknown limits. She let out a gasp of surprise and grasped Oz's head in both hands as she probed his mouth with her tongue. She pounded her body down on Oz's tool again and again, her wet, naked torso sliding up and down Oz's already soaked shirt. She increased the pressure on his neck, using both thumbs to crush Oz's trachea, as he began to thrust violently upward in the excitement of erotic asphyxiation.

She choked him harder until his consciousness was sufficiently dim that his body fully expected to die and knew that this would be the final moment for spreading his seed upon the world. His whole body shuddered in a death rattle and his consciousness faded into the darkness as he poured the hot contents of his balls deeply into Mary's womb. Mary's arms held him tightly in the embrace of death, letting him savor his brief glimpse of the afterlife before shaking him awake.

When he regained consciousness, he smiled faintly and and whispered, "You're under arrest."

"So are you. I knew you were a cop. So am I. So are all the hookers and johns walking these streets."

"I'll show you mine, if you show show me yours," Oz whispered.

"Oh, I've already seen yours, up close and personal, inside and out, and it is quite delicious," she said. "But show me the paper anyhow."

Oz pulled his badge from the pocket of his discarded jacket, and flipped it open. "Oscar Diggs, FBI, Special Agent in Charge of the Magdalene Slayer Investigation."

"Almost, but not quite as impressive as the credential in your pants, which I have already scrutinized in minute detail. You'll pass," Mary said and whipped her badge out. "Detective Gail Dorothy, Kansas Special Investigations Unit," she said. "I'm working on the Slayer Investigation as well."

"If that's true, why haven't I seen you in the task force meetings?"

"I just arrived in California today. I start on the Slayer project tomorrow morning," Mary said, and then added, "You know we both have sufficient grounds to bust each other, even if we are cops."

The crowd outside grew unruly. Oz suddenly realized that the interior lights were on. He must have bumped the switch when he reached for his badge. Here he was with a profoundly naked girl sitting on his lap. He knew that this was at the very least a breach of the "Click It or Ticket" seatbelt law. However, he suspected that this was not the violation the mob surrounding his car had in mind.

Mary slid to the passenger side of the car, and most of the crowd understandably rushed to that side of the car as well. They began to rock the Lincoln back and forth, trying to overturn it. Oz opened the driver's side window a crack and hung his badge out to the crowd. He grabbed the bullhorn mike and said "This is FBI Special Agent Oscar Diggs, in charge of the Slayer Investigations. This vehicle is engaged in prisoner transport. Ignore the naked woman in the vehicle. She is only a police hologram used in our undercover operations. Please move away from the vehicle now."

The chastised and by no means intelligent crowd immediately stepped away from the vehicle.

"Your place or mine?" he asked Mary.

She rested her damp head on Oz's shoulder. "Yours," she said. "Definitely yours."

He squealed down Sunset Boulevard as fast as his lead foot would take him.

Communion

He drove her down to the wharfs. When they got out of the car, they were greeted by a shimmering moon that danced on the waters. Mary could almost feel the leviathans that swan beneath the surface of that dark ocean: Humboldt squid, telepathic humpbacks, and of course the always hidden face of God.

He beckoned her into a dark and apparently vacant warehouse. She followed his direction without hesitation. He was the master of this realm.

They climbed up a rickety and rusty spiral staircase and then across a catwalk that led to Oz's abode in this nightmarish house of death. There appeared to be only one door, and Oz ushered her through it.

The only human furnishings within the room consisted of a single bed outfitted with all kinks of straps, chains and other contraptions. A staggering variety of vehicles of torture hung from the walls, each more delicious than the last. A life-size wooden cross leaned against the darkest corner of the cell.

"Do you prefer top or bottom?" Oz queried.

"Do you even have to ask?" Mary replied, as she slid out of her wet miniskirt. She laid facedown on the bed with her arms and legs splayed. Oz quickly strapped her wrists and ankles, putting her into a helpless position.

"Do you mind if I drink?" he politely asked.

"Not at all," Mary said. "Especially if it is me you're drinking."

"Ah, all in good time, my dear," Oz whispered. "All in good time. In the meantime, I must partake of my own libation. I would offer to some you, but I'm afraid it's an acquired taste and won't be to your liking on the first try. And it is most unlikely that you will be around for a second try."

"Go ahead and drink. Whatever floats your boat."

"I knew you would say that, my angel," Oz said. He went to the refrigerator and pulled out a flask of bubbling liquid.

"This is a little somethin'-somethin' I mixed up for myself," Oz told her. "A little LSD, a little crystal meth, with some ecstasy, ayahuasca, peyote, psilocybin, DMT, tetrodotoxin, oxycodone, viagra, ambien, horny goat weed, and a little Dos Equis thrown in. Oh, and some prune juice. Mustn't forget that, or you'll be backed up like Grand Coolee Dam."

"Sounds reasonable," Mary said. "You'll have to give me a taste next time."

"I've already told you that there is going to be no next time. Why the hell are you stalking me? I hate when bitches do that."

"You will shortly find out that I am no ordinary bitch, asshole!" she said.

For that, Oz slapped her helplessly exposed ass as hard as he could and chugged the bubbling contents of his flask. Almost immediately, his visual world began shifting. He knew he was now looking at the true nature of the world.

He watched the new tissue as it emerged from the between the whore's shoulder blades and quickly unfolded, spreading into the most brilliantly white swan wings he had ever beheld. This part was an illusion, he knew. This cunt was no angel, but the Whore of Babylon herself, the most powerful demon to ever walk upon the face of the Earth.

Be that as it may, this gash sure had one fine booty. And those wings looked damnably soft. Oz soon spread himself on the wind that was her back and prepared himself for the union to come. He laid his throbbing cock in the shadow of the valley of her butt cheeks and began to lick the whiteness of her swan-like neck. His tongue traveled slowly up and down her spine as he began to slide his his shaft up and down her crack, her buttocks rhythmically squeezing it in time with his thrusts.

He turned her head aside so that he could take her ear in his mouth and explore every convolution in that most delicate organ. He ran his hands up and down her rib cage, playing it like a celestial xylophone. He began to tease the sides of her magnificent breasts with his fingers, as she squeezed him tightly in her ass. He slipped his hands beneath her divine orbs, feeling her erect nipples in the centers of hands, and he squeezed her tits as hard as he could as he moved his tongue down her spine once again. His head glided between the softness of her wings, which she spread in bright submission.

After one last crushing squeeze of her breasts, he raised his hands to her back, feeling the delicate whiteness of her wings. He could tear them off, he knew, but even he could not erase such perfection from the world. Instead, his fingers flew down their feathery edges, and he receded, licking his way down her spine to her butt crack, which opened to greet him. He slid his hands beneath her and found her bud, teasing it as his tongue ran up and down her crack. Soon he spread her nether mouth with his hands, feeling its wetness, its trembling desire to submit to him.

His tongue continued its voyage down her ass crack, finding the delicate hole that served as her Guardian, allowing her inner self to pass slowly once again into the physical world, from which she was so cruelly banished at birth. He ran his tongue around the perfect circularity of her anus, feeling her shudders as his fingers continued to work her clit and spread her labia even further apart than she would have thought possible.

He flicked his tongue in and out of the emptiness of her butt hole, its lips seeming to grasp his tongue as if to hold its warmth within her forever. He thrust his tongue again and again into and out of her ass. He let his tongue grow to demon size to slake her hole's seemingly endless thirst. His hands roved up her back, pinning her angelic wings so that they could not fly. He squeezed her shoulders tightly as he rammed his mouth once more on her ass, lashing out with his forked tongue as he listened to her moans and screams. No one would hear her in the desolate seascape of these wharves.

Finally, her whole body shuddered, and she cried out in ecstasy. Oz lay in the feathery heaven of her back, his fingers interlocked with hers, as they listened to the gentle lapping of the waves outside this chamber of communion.

When he revived sexually, which never took him long when he had just imbibed his somethin'-somethin', he once again began to move his hard throbbing cock up and down her whore's crack, her trained buttocks squeezing him as he glided up and down that sweet abyss.

Finally, he pulled back and rammed his shaft into her helpless anus. At first he could only penetrate her a couple of inches, due to the thickness of his gigantic member. He interlaced his fingers with hers once again as he pulled back and battered his shaft an additional three inches into her. She squeezed his fingers with her hands to let him know that she accepted his violation of her body and to urge him to use her body as his helpless plaything.

He spread her white angel wings and moved her head to the side so that he could explore her mouth with his tongue as he hauled back and rammed the full 10 inches of his cock up to the hilt in her delicate nether passage. He abandoned her mouth for her ear as he hauled off and rammed the full length of shaft into her once again. Her whole body shuddered. Surely even this whore had never been violated so completely.