The Toy Shoppe Ch. 02

The Next Day - Family

I woke slowly, as strange dreams gave way to confusing reality. I was in an unfamiliar bed -- bigger and softer than my own, with a thick down comforter piled up to my chin. My jammies were definitely missing, and there was a loud purring by my ear -- I'd always wanted a cat, but Great-Aunt Emily is allergic. I continued to take stock. My own pussy was sore, and there seemed to be someone's arm lying on my tummy.

Memories started to flood back. I'd just been fucked nine ways to Sunday, which being a virgin -- okay, having recently been a virgin -- was out of character for me. I flipped the comforter off, and a kitten bounced away in annoyance as I stared at the raven-wing tattoo across the back and arms of my bed-mate. More memories hit me like a load of bricks. Or a bus. I was being cuddled by the girl who, yesterday, had claimed to be an Angel of Death named Joy, and who had assured me that, in spite of a good deal of evidence to the contrary, I was deceased.

She was humming softly -- Angels of Death never sleep, she'd said. She had also said I didn't need to sleep any more, but I'd been dead to the world. Damn - wrong analogy. This was all crazy. Probably, she was crazy. I drew my forearm up between my breasts and fumbled about with my other hand trying to take my pulse. Well, shit, nothing -- but then I was no nurse. I had no idea what to look for. Besides which, I recalled at some point yesterday her flat-out fucking with me (in the head-fuck sort of way) by poking me with a gull feather and then laughing at my reaction.

I shook my head. This was just goofy. I remembered our retreating from the rooftop above - of my own building, apparently - when the sun started to set. We'd played some more, then slept. At least, I did ... I think. Sort of drifted in a warm fog, really. Anyway, it was still dark out, but the kitten seemed to want attention, so I slipped out from under the comforter to follow her to the kitchen.

I just about jumped out of my skin to find the pale blonde girl I'd seen back in the alley when I'd arrived, now poking around in the fridge. She was dressed, or rather undressed, the same as she'd been then - with some decorative henna lace designs as her total ensemble.

"Geez - were you two planning to laze the night away?"

"Um. Marie?"

"At yer service, dead girl ... if said service entails fucking. Cyril used to keep some blood in here. I must have finished it off. Damn."

Blood? Joy had claimed Marie was a vampire. Did Marie believe it, too? "I'm Jane," I said, creeped out by being accused of being the 'late' Jane by virtual strangers.

"Don't you ever knock?" This was from Joy herself, now beside me.

"Got a standing invitation," said Marie with a grin. Said grin flashed some impressive fangs, and I found myself sitting hard on the nearest chair. Of course, anyone could fit themselves out with believable pointy teeth - given maybe a movie makeup team was on hand. This was the most logical explanation, but we were way past logic here. Or were by the time Marie's canines had quickly receded to near-normal size - slightly prominent but not outright wolfish.

"Wine, perhaps?" Joy wore a mischievous smile of her own. It sounded like a regular joke between them.

"Well, I hardly ever drink wine," said Marie, while stretching her back to lift and display her lovely pale boobs. "But sure. Be nice if you were to restock with a nice B negative, though. For guests."

"You knew Uncle Cyril?"

"Your uncle?"

"'There are always Uncles at Christmas. The same Uncles'," declaimed Joy, who had oozed her bountiful flesh onto the sofa. It finally dawned on me that we were all three of us starkers.

"Huh. D.T. had that right," said Marie. "What?" This to Joy, who had one beautiful eyebrow raised high. "Haunted Bookshop, just across the street," she continued, to me. "Not like I don't read. Anyway, Cyril and I have been bumping pelvises for over a hundred years, so he's more like your great-great-great uncle. He was always good at keeping in touch with the family, though ... in a deliberately vague sort of way."

I swung around abruptly. The vintage 'reclining nude' painting hanging right over the mantle was the spitting image of Marie. Including the lace collar, actually, that most likely was an old-timey tattoo.

Joy elaborated for me. "Would have been a waste of a fine 'lady's man', if I'd taken him back then. And the knife hole was an easier patch-up than your neck. He would have waited, so as to meet you, but that photo you sent ... well, he was afraid he'd be tempted to stay. "

Marie took over again, as she settled onto Joy's lap. "Too bad for you. That man was a virtuoso - with his cock, his tongue, his fingers ... hells, even his toes. And he just got better with practice. He will be missed." She took one of Joy's fingers and began to suck on it in a suggestive way, presumably by way of demonstration.

Even as I eased down on the cushions beside them, I found myself asking, "What happened to him?"

"He was just curious what was next for him," murmured Joy. "Said it was time, so after a last major fuck-fest, I let him move on."

Marie, who had moved on to suck my right nipple stiff, eased back to laugh. "Died happy, all right. But he went straight to dust, like in those old vampire movies - hey, I can't have a DVD player? Anyway, it took two days to vacuum him out of the rug. Typical man. Plus his bones just fell in a heap, so we boxed him up and took him down to my magic shop. Sold some bits of him just yesterday."

I had no idea what to say to that. Not just that it was all so hard to believe - and it was, what with vampires and death-angels, plus my uncle (nor least me), allegedly zombified. Mostly, my silence was due to several serious distractions: Marie had returned her lips to my boob and was pleasantly suckling my nipple, while Joy was already wrist-deep in my already soaking pussy.

Sometime later, we were in a heap on the aforementioned well-cleaned rug, contentedly nuzzling each other's moist-and-tasty bits in front of an open fire. Occasionally, I would turn over in my mind a small fragment of the last day or two - to try it on for size, like. Starting with: who lit the fireplace, how has it kept burning all this time, and was I really dead? Luckily, one of my new friends would nibble a particularly sensitive piece of me, and I would leave off my pondering.

Oddly enough, one of the least important issues (considering the competition) held on fast even as Joy was sucking exquisitely on my earlobe. This was all so delightful, and yet they had extolled Multi-uncle Cyril for his cocksmanship. What would the real thing feel like? "Umm. The tattooed guy - Wally. Didn't you say he lived on this floor?"

"Sure," said Marie. "What makes you think of him?" Laughing, she began to skootch her nose in my pussy.

"Ooh! Oh! Yeah, that. I guess." Like I wasn't absolutely sure what else I wanted to put up there, soon.

"He'll be at work by now," said Joy.

"Huh? What time is it?" I lifted my head enough to see that there was a tiny glimpse of daylight beyond the carefully closed drapes.

Marie laughed again. To Joy, she asked, "You haven't shown her yet?"

"I didn't want to overload the poor thing."

"You upped the cloaking on the alley to keep out all but the regulars ..."

"You said there were sailors."

"Sailors always seem to be impervious to the cloaking. Anyway they were just looking for Maggie's brothel. My point is that you arranged things so Jane here could see the residents at play. Then you told her she was dead, and proceeded to have your wicked way with her until she'd had so many orgasms she didn't know what day it was." Here she flourished her arm at me - to demonstrate my addled state, I suppose, although the gesture lost some of its impact given she was still on her back with her head between my thighs. It did, however, set her tits to jiggling in an appealing way. "One of my semen-slash-blood donor fuck-buddies works next door. He told me he watched you two wrestling with that three-foot wang toy of yours lodged between you. And now you're groping in her snatch. So just fuck her, already."

Huh? I glanced to Joy, who was still beside me with her head in the near vicinity to my ear, but my eyes were drawn irresistibly down to drink in, yet again, her ample chest, her firm belly, and her ... oh, I thought. Her clit seems to be growing. You may wonder why I thought that to be the most marvelous thing she had done so far, but you have to recall how horny I had become since my evident passing. Her Joy-buzzer became fat and rigid - pretty much like a real penis (in my experience, and barring the tattoos). By the time it had reached the eight inch mark, or so, I determined to climb on-board. After the various penetrations I had already enjoyed, Joy's magical cock held no threat. My only thought was to feel this thing grow even more inside me - which it most definitely did.

Joy rolled onto her back as I mounted her, still facing Marie ... who re-positioned herself only enough to be able to lick our interlocked bits as I churned up and down. I was quickly reaching yet another peak when I felt a surge of fluid pulse up into me. I might have shrieked with pleasure; all I remember is Marie's muffled voice saying, "I forgot to mention that the thing can ejaculate, too."

When I came to my senses, I found myself still on Joy's lap with her thingie iron hard inside me (I was unaware at the time that this was not particularly normal - not that the word applied to any of this). Having seemingly doubled its size since it had entered me, it was still holding me upright - although I had been limply unconscious long enough for Marie to mostly lick us clean. Blood was not the only bodily fluid she seemed to thrive on.

Joy, being both flexible and amazingly strong, began to demonstrate a variety of what I took to be the standard ways people coupled, without ever withdrawing her extendo-willie. I found myself on my back, on my belly, on my side, on my knees, and walking across the rug with my hands ... constantly squealing with seemingly endless orgasms. Or maybe it was one, continuous one. I should have collapsed with exhaustion, and so should have my new fuck-buddies, given their joint exertions (Marie's being largely, but not entirely, self administered).

Eventually, we found ourselves on the sofa where we'd begun, with me still impaled on Joy's lap and trembling with aftershocks. And even then, I wasn't convinced this had been the best ride on the orgasm-train yet. As good as, mind you. But still, I found a little part of myself wondering.

Specifically, about men. While it occurred to me that most guys don't provide plump tittie pillows to lean against, I figured there were bound to be things on the plus side of their ledger. So when Wally strode in, I felt my still-stuffed pussy clench, hungering for a sample of man-meat. In the spirit of exploration, of course.

"Hello, ladies."

"Hello to you, human," was Marie's response. "I see you got my text."

"A bit garbled, frankly. It sounded like our new neighbor had an emergency opening, but it looks like Joy's filled the vacancy in question."

Joy was amused at my rapt attention to our tattooed guest. He was wearing cut-offs, no doubt owing to a lack of alley-cloaking this morning (and nudity, illustrated or not, would probably be bad for the tourist trade); but the green head of his serpent-decorated cock was already standing clear of his shorts, in anticipation.

She assured him that his assistance would still be appreciated, and graciously pulled me up and off of her own apparatus to set me woozily on my feet. Wally, for his part, seemed relieved. His pinioned pecker looked hugely uncomfortable, and I wondered whether it had forced its way up there while he was still in the alley. It probably had, and was (uncomfy, that is), because when he dropped the scrap of denim, the poor thing shuddered and grew another two sizes. Plus one.

Up close, there were some non-reptilian differences from Joy's wand. Now that I could see it fully rigid (and not largely hidden inside Marie), it was distinctly veiny, and presently it lacked the collar of loose flesh I'd first noticed in the alley. It should be noted that foreskins were even more outside my previous experience then than dicks in general had been.

While I was amazingly alert - not least because it was beginning to look like I really might be deceased - I was too weak to move toward him. Luckily that mattered not at all. Stepping over, he had me up and onto his green giant in moments. And now more surprises: the throbbing of his pulse inside me ... and even more unexpected, the thing radiated intense heat. So did the rest of him, wherever we touched - his powerful hands on my waist, his hips between my thighs... "Oh my God! You're burning!"

Marie laughed. "Wally is used to necrophilia, what with fucking me on a regular basis. But if you plan to take on a civilian someday, you'd better take a hot bath first, girl. Bring you up from room temperature."

"But..." I gasped, as he began to bounce me on his sturdy serpent-cock.

"Yeah, Joy's a bit warmer than us, but not so as you'd notice, much," said Marie.

"No idea why. But the living - yeah, that hot rod is definitely a turn-on." She nuzzled Wally's barely straining shoulder, for emphasis, as he continued to pump me up and down.

I could feel myself about to explode, yet again. "Yes! Yes! Yes! ..."

"Girl's got rhythm. Told you she could take over for Cyril."

"Too bad you didn't know her number was coming up before Cyril checked out. He'd definitely have stayed around for this," said Marie.

Wally had got me off by then, but I was still unable to do anything but gasp to his pounding (although the lyric had changed slightly: "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"), when the door opened again. Two amazingly attractive women stepped in, both wearing gossamer bathrobes. With barely a glance at the floor-show, the redhead asked Joy whether Cyril was home.

"Good morning Sylvia, Judy," responded Joy. "I'm so sorry, Miss Margret must have forgotten to tell you - Cyril has moved on. We were just saying how much he would be missed." Over Wally's shoulder, I could see both girls' faces fall. It struck me that given their occupation, as revealed by their connection to our resident Madame, their search for Uncle C reinforced his reputation for satisfying his partners.

"Come over here, my dears. Let me console you."

"Fuck, the dick-ratio is way out of balance, now," muttered Marie, although she coped by intercepting the black girl and lasciviously unwrapping her. "I think it's time to call Waldo and the others up to join the party."

"Waldo?" I asked - or, more exactly: "Fuck! Fuck! Yes!! Waldo? Fuck!"

It was Wally's turn to laugh. "That guy in the Dungeons and Dragons shop. You know, Xena the cross-dresser."

"Be nice," said Marie, while coming to grips with Sylvia. "He's well hung, and knows how to use it. Mind you, he wants to move up to Vampirella - asked me to 'sire' him. Dufus. I told him to ask again in thirty years."

While Marie delivered this speech, Judy started to swallow the entirety of Joy's still prominent wang. "Fuck me," I said - and not just for Wally's sake. Did everyone know their secrets?

While mind reading didn't seem to be in Joy's repertoire, she still picked up on my confusion. "We are a family here - all your tenants. You own both sides of the alley - four buildings in all. Cyril picked up the ones at the Chinatown end after the Tongs stabbed him in the heart. Coming back seemed to earn him a fair amount of respect. Anyway, you have your own secret domain, even when I'm away."

Wally settled us down onto an overstuffed chair so that I was on his lap. I took advantage of this to rotate myself on his pecker, and let him continue bouncing me with a fresh grip on my ass-cheeks.

Facing Joy over Judy's bobbing head, I asked, "Can I ever - uh-huh - leave this place?"

"Not more than a few blocks. You'll know the boundaries - people will start to notice that something about you seems odd. Remember, I said I have sanctuaries like this elsewhere - not many, mind. But my re-animated lovers are each the king or queen of their domain in my absence. You will enjoy it, I assure you."

"How long - ohmyGod - before you leave us?" I already felt downcast - or as much you can be in the midst of a string of orgasms.

Marie, who was now astride Sylvia on the rug, with her cell phone out to call Waldo (and I had no idea where she'd been keeping that), paused and said, "So you believe in Joy now?"

"God, yes!"

Joy took this to be addressed to her rather than Wally, who had just managed to bottom out even deeper than before, and said, "Not a God, but I've been around. Not to worry, I'll be staying here for a while, yet." She chuckled, but so loudly that everyone turned to look at her (barring Judy who simply rolled her eyes upward in surprise). Sitting a little more erectly, she seemed almost to grow. Stretching her arms up and out, so that her bouncing breasts were thrust forward, she grinned hugely and then spread out behind herself a ginormous pair of black feathered wings. Even from where she sat on the sofa, they brushed the ceiling near the opposite walls of the loft. "It's Christmas, Jane. It's the time of miracles. Welcome home!"

fin