My Day


If I told you about my day you'd never believe it. No, I'm not exaggerating. No one ever believes me. My mother has threatened more than once to have me committed. She says I'm a compulsive liar. When I tell her I'm not a liar, everything I say is the truth, scout's honor. She tells me than I must be hallucinating or losing my grip on reality. She also thinks I'm dangerously obsessed with sex. I ask her what girl wouldn't be in my position and she just bites her lip and gives me her worried look. I've stopped answering her calls so often.

My friends have all stopped coming by. They think I'm constantly trying to one up their stories. I can't even answer the question "How was your day?" without being accused of nefarious intentions. It makes having any kind of social life difficult.

What's that? You still want to hear? You're just like the others. You think I'm lying and have a sick desire to see how far I'll go. Fine, I give up. I'm tired of arguing. I'll tell you the truth and you can decide for yourself.

I woke up this morning at six o'clock to the blaring of my alarm clock. The sun was barely peeking above the horizon but it was time to start the day. I hopped into the shower ignoring the tentative tap of tentacles on the drain cover. The thing that lives down there knows not to bother me until I've at least had a cup of coffee.

When I emerged warm and slick, the room was filled with fragrant steam. The mirror had fogged over and the poltergeist had left me a good morning message in dripping letters. I wiped it away quickly and blow dried my hair. I applied my makeup and started deciding what to wear today. My wardrobe was getting incredibly thin, I reminded myself to plan a shopping trip this weekend. When I was finished primping and preening, I noticed it was nearly seven. Coffee would have to be to-go. I called out a farewell to the other denizens of my apartment and made my way out the door.

I work in the city where apartment prices are sky high so I had to settle for a more affordable place on the outskirts and a longer commute. When I first rented the place I thought the train ride would be a great time to catch up on my reading. After a few days I learned better. I don't bother bringing books or headphones anymore. There's never time to sit down and enjoy the quiet moments.

The subway train chuffed into the station and came to a rumbling stop at the platform bringing with it the smell of ozone and grime. I picked an empty car and climbed aboard settling comfortably in the molded plastic seat. At the next stop, a biker gang boarded and made their way to my car. They were tall and tough. Each one had broad shoulders and flexing muscles beneath the dark lines of their tattoos.

Their president wore his blond hair slicked back from his face. His eyes were soulful in the harsh lines of his masculine face. He told me their story. They were on the run from corrupt cops and a sadistic man who conspired to take over their club. They weren't good men but they weren't bad men either. Now they were looking for a heroine to help them take back their club with her quick wits and sultry good looks. I told them I was sorry but I had to be in to work by eight. I didn't have time today.

The president nodded sadly before peeling off my blouse. His fingers found the clasp of my bra and unhooked it with practiced ease. He turned me around and pressed me against the door. The window's glass was cool on my aching nipples. Startled commuters watched as we passed station after station. He bunched my skirt up over my hips and tore my panties away with an animalistic growl.

The straining head of his cock probed against my entrance. I could feel that he was rock hard already. Slowly he pushed into me, spreading me inch by inch around his huge cock until he was buried inside of me completely. He began to fuck me, slowly at first, with short, shallow strokes that rubbed delicious friction against my walls. I bucked my hips back towards him urging him to give me more. Give me everything. He moaned deep in his throat and pistoned himself forward faster. His hips ground against my backside and his fingers clenched around my hips as he drove into me again and again. With each brutal thrust I was pressed against the glass. I could smell leather and exhaust when he pulled my hair.

The heat and hardness of his cock speared through me, knotting in my belly and spreading through my core. He rode me with wild abandon, fucking like an animal lost in lust. Lost in the essential need to bury yourself in a wet and willing female. I could feel the steady rhythmic slap of his skin against mine. The other bikers watched as their president took me from behind and used my body. When we came, it was in unison, our bodies clenching and twitching against each other as he filled me with his seed.

I told him I hoped he found his heroine as we parted at the station and he thanked me.

I began the three block walk to the bookstore where I work narrowly avoiding a pack of cowboys on horses riding down the street. A firefighter came running up to talk to me but I waved him off. I was already late for work and knew I was in deep trouble.

The bookstore looks small and quaint on the outside but inside it rivals the library The Beast presented to Belle. Its high ceiling stretches up into darkness. Shelves are jam packed with beautiful leather bound books, oddities and knick knacks. It smells like old leather, aged wood and the spicy scent of paper. It's my home away from home although I never even crack the bindings on anything for sale here. They're all stocked with ancient and arcane knowledge best left unexplored.

My boss is the owner. He's also a billionaire although I'm not sure how he came to be so wealthy. Everything about him is a mystery. He moves with the sleek grace of a black panther. His black hair is always swept away from the sharp lines of his face. His eyes are black pools, totally unreadable. His golden muscular body is covered with tattooed runes, origin and symbolism unknown.

"You're late." His voice rumbled like thunder. A dangerous warning.

"Forgive me, master." I answered putting my purse in the cabinet behind the counter and snapping a small platinum collar around my slender throat.

"You will have to be punished."

I nodded and bent forward over the slick stone of the countertop lifting my skirt. He came up behind me, shadow moving against shadow and closed cold heavy hand cuffs around my wrists binding me tightly. I braced myself as the stinging swat of his hand came down on my exposed ass. Again and again the crack of skin against skin sounded through the quiet of the bookstore. I could feel the rush of blood to those areas afflicted by his punishment. It always made me wet.

When my ass was pink and sore from my punishment he dragged me by my handcuffs to the back room where a solitary hook hung from the ceiling. The silvery links of the handcuffs slid onto the hook and I hung with my toes barely touching the concrete floor. My arm muscles began to ache in chorus to the stinging on my bottom.

With a small knife he cut away my clothes piece by piece. I always pack a few extra outfits when I go out but my clothing budget was really starting to get ridiculous. I had liked that skirt too. I watched the fabric flutter to the floor as he peeled off his own bespoke Italian cut suit.

"What do you have to say for yourself?"

"I'm sorry, master. I've been very bad, master. I deserve to be punished, master." I knew the words he wanted to hear. I've been working here a long time, ever since I signed that mysterious contract guaranteed to earn me enough money to pay for my mother's cancer treatments.

He lifted my legs up over his hips while his mouth found the hard, swollen nub of my nipple. He pulled it into the steamy heat of his mouth licking and sucking each in turn before he showed his teeth. They were alabaster pearls teasing, nipping and worrying my skin as I moaned and ground my cleft against his rock hard erection.

He slid into me with the practiced ease of experience, bouncing me up and down against him. My heart was pounding in my chest to the rhythm of our mating. My skin was hot and flushed with desire. An aching need was growing between my legs as he parted me and ground into me again and again. The friction of his cock sliding against the throbbing bud of my clit was too much to bear. I felt all the muscles in my body clench as I came shuddering in his arms.

He kissed me softly on the head as he unhooked my handcuffs.

"Don't forget the quarterly payroll is due on Wednesday." He whispered in my ear and left.

After I had changed into the spare set of clothes I kept in my purse, I spent the rest of the morning restocking the shelves. Only two customers came in: a Navy Seal looking for a nubile young man and a world-class soccer star who asked if I was lactating. I managed to sell the soccer star a magazine subscription but I didn't have what each of them really wanted. I hate having to turn away customers.

As lunch time rolled around I closed up the shop and walked to the little sandwich store on the corner. It was the lunchtime rush and the woman in line in front of me struck up conversation while we waited. We complained about the weather, the traffic and the rest of the normal banal exchanges people who live in the same area share. She asked if I worked around here and I mentioned the bookstore. I asked where she worked. She looked at me sadly, "I'm a lesbian. I don't really have much of a plot beyond that."

I lead her back into the small storage area in the shop. As soon as the door closed behind us she pushed me up against a wall and kissed me deeply. Her lips were soft and searching. Her tongue flicked between my teeth and tasted me. I pushed back against her, wrapping my fingers in her hair and nipping her lower lip until she sighed into my mouth.

I pulled her t-shirt up over her head and gently peeled her bra off as she removed my clothes. The soft curves of our breasts pressed together and I could feel the pounding of her heart. I lowered my head and captured her soft pink nipple between my lips. I licked and sucked until I felt the skin pebble and harden in my mouth. Soft moans of pleasure were puffing from between her parted lips. I kissed my way down the curve of her belly as she desperately wriggled her jeans over her hips.

Resting my cheek against her thighs I parted her legs and pushed my tongue between her swollen lower lips, licking along the soft slick skin. She tasted clean and fresh with a slight hint of sweetness. My tongue rasped over her again and again until I felt her thighs quiver with need. I found the hard bud of her clit and undulated my tongue against it slowly letting the tension build with the heat and slickness of my ministrations.

She moaned and her fingers wrapped in my hair, nails grazing the skin of my scalp softly and making me shiver. I started flicking my tongue faster and faster as she panted and writhed beneath my touch. Two of my fingers wound their way inside of her filling her while my tongue teased. She came hard and fast. Her fingers clenched tightly and her body shivered and bucked as sweet moisture coated my tongue. When I left the storage room she was still searching for a missing sock.

Back in the sandwich shop a mad scientist was injecting the men waiting in line with a bright pink serum that would turn them into women. I took a quick look around as they marveled at their budding breasts. The line was much shorter but my lunch time was almost over. I had to get back to work.

At the bookstore, my boss was having a heated discussion with what looked like an organized crime syndicate. There were five mobsters and at least three of them were bad boys with a heart of gold. If I stayed any longer I'd be here all night. I decided to close up early.

Three times a week I go to the local park for a long run. You would think I get enough cardio in my day but it's great for the stress relief. Unfortunately, today I was delayed from getting there by a time travelling Victorian Earl. He was looking for a modern woman to change his outdated social view and return as his bride. I could use a vacation but I was hoping for somewhere tropical instead of England.

By the time I did arrive at the park the sun was already setting. Long shadows stretched across the field in the deepening dusk. If I wanted to get any run time in I had to get moving. I laced up my sneakers and started jogging along at a slow and steady pace.

There's a rhythm you can get into with running that's very soothing. The puff of your breath, the beating of your heart and the padding of your sneakers on the pavement act as a metronome. It's easy to focus on that steady rhythm and let the worries and cares of your day wash away.

This evening, I was so lulled that I didn't see the man in the path until I almost crashed into him. He was tall and impossibly pale with golden amber eyes that glowed like a lion's. His hands were heavy and ice cold on my shoulders as he pushed me to my knees. Within seconds, he freed his member from his breeches and guided it towards my waiting mouth. I parted my lips and ran my tongue along pulsing head of his cock tasting ice and cold and hints of another world.

My tongue worked, sliding up and down the length of his shaft. Every vein and ridge danced beneath my touch. His hands caressed my face as he told me I was beautiful, I was special, I was the one chosen to save his coven.

I parted my lips and lowered them over his cock working my way down as far as I could go before bobbing back up again. He growled and I felt it reverberate through my body making my nipples pull tight and hard. I licked and sucked until his hands closed around my head holding it steady in his inhuman grasp. His hips began to pump forward with supernatural speed grinding his cock deep into my throat. I let my jaw go slack and took him in over and over again. His fangs emerged as he climaxed piercing through his full lips.

When the werewolf attacked I decided I'd had enough exercise for the day and walked back to my car. I was glad to be heading home, the last time I showed up at my doctor's office having been turned into a vampire he gave me a stern lecture on using protection. The cost of night time office visits was astronomical too.

The first thing I needed that evening was a shower. I peeled off my leggings and sports bra and climbed into the steam. Droplets of water cascaded against my bare skin releasing the tension and soothing the aches. It had been a long day I needed a little relaxation.

While I shampooed my hair I felt the delicate twining of a tentacle around my ankle. Inch by inch it made its way up my leg. Its touch was slick and probing. There was no denying the muscular strength beneath its pallid flesh.

When it reached the top of my thighs it parted my lips and rubbed gently back and forth. Another tentacle wrapped around my waist lifting me into the air while two more clasped my breasts in their slippery embrace. The first tentacle found the waiting wetness of my entrance and slithered inside of me pulsing and quivering as it went.

The tentacles holding my body constricted tightly, binding me in the beast's clutches as its suckers pinched and undulated across my aching nipples. Inside me the tentacle expanded and contracted gelatinously as it sought to fill me completely.

When we were finished, I rinsed the shampoo out of my hair and slid on some jeans and a t-shirt. I had two missed calls on my phone. I punched in the number for my voicemail. The first was from Bigfoot wanting to know if I wanted to grab a drink later this week. The second was from my step-father and was just heavy breathing. I deleted to second and decided to call Bigfoot back tomorrow. Still, the idea of a drink sounded like a good one.

That's how I ended up here tonight talking to you. I come here a lot, I've known the bartender for a long time. Did you know he's an escaped convict who was wrongfully imprisoned for the murder of his wife? Now he spends his nights slinging beers and his days hunting for the real killer.

Sometimes I get really tired of the routine, you know? I guess everyone feels that way once in a while. I think about giving up my apartment and moving into the suburbs. Maybe quit my job and write a romance novel. Something really steamy. Like a girl marries a computer programmer. During the day she works in an office and at night they argue over whose turn it is to cook dinner. Most nights they just end up ordering Chinese food and watching TV shows on Netflix. It's a fun dream but you can't live on dreams, can you?

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byMirandaJoyce© 5 comments/ 11222 views/ 3 favorites

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