He Built It and They Came

His heart thudded and he struggled for breath. The devil's tail withdrew from the woman's hole and probed his mouth, finding its way in to join his tongue in pleasuring her. It dripped blood. Jacqui quivered. She keened like a banshee.

When the spear pressed into his mouth and began thrusting, his cock did the same into Rachel's mouth. She growled around him and he rocketed up to climax, driving his hips upward and bursting. Jacqui shrieked and shook. The tail-cock erupted red and slippery in his mouth, pushing until it blocked his throat. He gargled a red froth and convulsed on the cross. All became dim and crimson as his consciousness faded. At the pinnacle of release, arched tight in his restraints, throwing bolt after bolt of his essence into the voracious Rachel, head clamped in Jacqui's thighs, her devil tail smothering him in its bloody eruption, he strangled. The screaming echoed to silence. Fade to black.

********

At midnight he woke up drenched in sweat and tangled in his bedcovers. I'm really gonna have to get this sleep apnea looked at, he thought as he gasped for breath and his heart slowed. These dreams are intense! John's mouth tasted of blood and he'd spunked in the sheets. I haven't had a wet dream in years, he thought as he dragged himself to the bathroom to rinse his mouth and run a cold washcloth over his neck.

In the clarity of the mirror he dabbed at where he'd bit his lip. Maybe he could talk to Dr. Wright about it. Why would he get off on being tortured? Why these women? Could he perform the script tonight without remembering what they did to him in the dream? Would he be even more excited? All the same, he'd be a professional and earn his pay. It wouldn't do to get a bad reference.

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If you've made it to the end, may I ask for a comment, please? The benefit to you is that I'll be much more encouraged to write and to write more often. Your feedback makes my stories better. Thanks for reading. (If you have constructive criticism, please be specific)