What Happens When an Author Dies?

Prologue:

I am an interdimensional being from universe 3249387549. I'm going to tell you what happened to this author who constantly writes squirt stories. In your universe, he's still writing, and is experimenting with refraining from masturbating at all, which is making him come up with even more stories. However, in my universe, he died of jerking off too much to his own work. He jerked off to death.

His name was George, and he was obsessed with squirt. To him, voluptuous, beautiful, healthy women were the same as a bottle of water is to a man lost in the desert. He wrote hundreds of stories about gushing women. He would write some interesting details in the surrounding story, but the sex was always women orgasming so hard they shot clear, pleasant tasting squirt into someone's mouth. Squirt drinking was his thing.

Apparently, he claimed it had saved his life at one point when he was incredibly thirsty. Supposedly, squirting women had revived him from nearly dying of thirst. Afterwards, he'd been perplexed about how it had looked, smelled and tasted so clean and pure, like spring water. So, he'd done research and found that proper squirt is almost entirely water, despite a tiny percent of it being otherwise. Some extremely rare women, when they orgasm, produce a sexual fluid that is largely indiscernible from water as you'd find in nature, in a stream, or rain.

Hence, he discovered there is an extremely stark delineation between pure women's squirt of this type, and anything else one might know of. And, so, he'd understood that the pure squirt he'd drank was something that some very rare women create when they're properly pleased. While there might be some fakers, or some women who had something else going on, there were these uncommon women, out there, who would literally give him a nice, pleasant drink, if he treated them right.

He became obsessed with writing about it ever since, and making up story after story about men finding these rare women, and drinking them. He'd only found exceedingly rare instance of this in his actual life, and so he enjoyed fantasizing about the possibilities of finding many of them, since they seemed more rare than the most precious stones and metals in the world.

So, when he died, in the dumbest way possible, I might add, I decided to have some fun with him, as beings like me do with many different authors. I snatched his consciousness up before it spread out and dissipated in the ether, materialized his body and clothes again, and sat him down.

"I'm going to give you a choice." I said. "When your average person dies, everything that was them spreads out, dissipates, and returns to whence it came. But, since you have written so much, you can choose to spend a thousand years in your stories. You'll have control over yourself, and you will be safe, cease to age, and be wealthy. But, the other characters, settings, and so on in the stories will be random, and out of your control. The characters will have whatever sexual proclivities you've written about, also randomized. After those thousand years are up, you'll be able to choose to stay there, or to cease to be. You can also call on me any time, and request to leave early, but it will be up to me to decide if I let you quit early." I handed him my calling card. "Simply hold this in the air, and shout my name if you want to call me to ask if I will end it."

"But my stories aren't real. This is impossible." he replied, putting my card into his wallet, and storing it in his pocket again.

"All stories generate their own sub universes which are real, in at least some sense. Not in any sense that would be comprehensible to a simple being like a human, though." I explained.

"Okay, yes!" he said, enthusiastically. And I tossed him into his own universe.

I summoned a friend who had also viewed this human, and told him what was going on.

"I bet you he gets sick of it in fifty years." said my friend.

"I bet it only takes a month!" I said. "These humans think about all this stupid stuff, but it's all temporary, hormonal nonsense. Once a man like him comes a few times, he doesn't care at all about sex, and certainly not extreme sex like he writes about. He's going to hate it."

"You're on! So, you maintain that no human actually likes sex in any real sense, and that it's all merely clockwork mechanistic workings of their bodily systems?"

"Exactly. Now, we wait, and watch." I said.

"The usual bet? The winner gets unthinkable energies from beyond?"

"Duh." I replied.

Chapter 1

When George woke up, he realized it wasn't a dream. He was in the setting he'd imagined for one of his stories. He went outside, and got in his car. After driving to a store, he went inside and flirted with the first dark skinned, black haired voluptuous woman he could find. "Hi." he said.

"Hello," came the response, "can I help you find something?"

He said something cliche, and stupid, "I was wondering if you have anything to drink? Some women have free drinks. I mean, sorry, some stores have free drinks. What did I say?"

She laughed and said, "You said women! It's okay." and then the most absurd, poorly written thing played out. She said, "Most women don't have free drinks, but let me tell you, the ones that do, sadly, have no one to drink them."

"I'm very thirsty." he said.

Five minutes later, they were in her office in the back of the store.

"Dominate me!" she said, as she shut and locked the door.

He decided to oblige her. He pushed her down, onto her knees, pulled his pants down, and shoved his dick into her mouth. As he fucked her face, he said, "Get undressed." She did so, and started masturbating. Just before he came, he pulled out of her mouth, and she stood up. He turned her around, and pushed her down against her desk. She spread her legs, and started rubbing her clit.

"Tell me you're thirsty!" she yelped.

"I'm absolutely parched!" he replied, and got down on his knees. He leaned toward her trimmed pussy.

She gushed all over his face until he managed to move his mouth to catch her stream, and he drank some of her. She tasted like water and the faintest hint of coconut, with a slight sour tang. He stood up and turned her over, while she was still gushing, and slammed his dick into her pussy, causing the squirt to splatter all over his stomach, and all over her breasts. Watching the glistening droplets run down her breasts drove him wild, and he began to come. He pulled out of her, and said, "I'm going to come into your mouth, and you're going to drink it! If you try to spit it out, I'm going to hold my hand over your mouth until you swallow!"

"Yes, master!" she said, trying not to smile and spoil her domination fantasy of being forced to do what, in reality, was exactly what she wanted to do.

He positioned himself so his dick was right in front of her mouth, and said, "Jerk me off into your mouth, I want to watch my come cover your tongue."

She grabbed his dick and pumped it a few times, and then held it as he shot come into her mouth. She swallowed it, stood up, and smiled brightly, dropping the domination fantasy. "That was great! Thanks! No man has ever wanted to drink me before! I loved it!" the dialogue was just as cliche and absurd as in his writing. She kissed him on the cheek, pulled her clothes back on, and left the office.

He pulled his pants up, and left the store.

Chapter 2

George was bored, now. The sexual desire was drained from him, so he decided to have lunch. The world really was real, he started to understand. Just like the unthinkable being he'd spoken to had claimed. The only unusual thing was how certain women would behave.

He sat in a cafe, and the waitress, a sexy blonde woman, asked him what he wanted to eat. He ordered a sandwich and a glass of water. She walked back into the kitchen, and then came back ten minutes later with his order, and disappeared behind the swinging doors again.

George enjoyed the sandwich. He sat, finishing it, and sipping on his water as he delighted in the sight of the beautiful day that was unfolding outside. He heard a snicker, and looked over to see the waitress hiding a smile and laughing conspiratorially with several other women behind the counter. He furrowed his brow, and then decided to shake it off and finished his sandwich. He picked up the glass, and sipped at it. As he did so, he realized he needed to think about any beautiful women the way he would write them. This is fucking squirt, he thought.

A few scary thoughts shot through his mind about the possible dangers of a random woman tricking him into drinking her squirt, but then he reassured himself that the unthinkable being had told him there was no danger for him, here. The sandwich had been salty, and her juice was very smooth, and flavorless, so he tossed it back, and finished the glass. He wasn't turned on, but he liked it anyway.

As he drove back home, two cars slammed into each other in front of him, at an intersection. He skidded to a stop and managed to avoid them, as the drivers got out and started screaming at each other. A gorgeous lady cop came up to his passenger side window and leaned in.

"Are you okay, Sir?" she asked.

"I'm fine." he replied.

"I want to examine you for injuries." she said, and opened the door, and sat down. George smiled to himself at the stupidity of his own writing and plots.

She touched him in several places, and then noticed that his dick was getting hard in response. She leaned back on the seat, and pulled her pants down. "I want you to eat my pussy!" she said. "If you don't want a ticket, make me come!"

George rolled his eyes, leaned over and started licking her. She tasted amazing, and before long was squirting into his mouth. Her juice was delicious. When she finished, he sat back and pulled out his dick. She leaned over and sucked him off, and then swallowed his come. She got out of the car and walked away.

Chapter 3

George got back home and took a shower, and brushed his teeth. Afterward, he sat watching TV, and there came a knock on his door. He answered it, and it was a naturally busty Indian woman in a saree, holding a large, covered, rectangular disposable aluminum dish. She was about ten years older than he, and somewhat attractive, in a rustic kind of way.

"Hi, we had an event and there's a lot of leftovers. Do you relish Indian food?" she asked with a smile.

"I love it! Thanks so much!" he replied, happy to have a woman giving him food.

"What about Indian drinks?" she asked, lowering her eyelids a bit.

George rolled his eyes, yet again, and stood away from the door and waved her in. "Come on then." he said in an exasperated voice.

She came in and set the food down. She started making small talk, and flirting with him, but he was getting bored, so he said, "You're an Indian. You want to make me a drink?"

She smiled wide, and said, "I'm full of drink, for you. Are you sure you want to actually drink me? I've never met a man..."

George knew where she was going with this. "You've never met a man who wants to drink you. Got it, sit on the counter, spread your fucking legs. pull up that saree, and give me that pussy."

She flushed, and started breathing heavy, as she did as he instructed. She had on a black, lace thong, which George pulled aside, and started licking her vigorously. She started squirting all over his face. He was about to stand up and start fucking her, because he was not thirsty, but she clenched her thighs around his head, and said, "Drink me! Drink me!" so he let her finish into his mouth with another blast of hot, watery, tangy juice. It stopped then, and he started to try to stand up again, but she clenched his head, and he couldn't. She rubbed her clit for a second, and said, "Are you going to be my squirt slave? Are you going to let me drain my pussy into your mouth, and drink every last drop?"

His mouth was muffled by her thighs, so he just said, "Mmmhmmm." and she began to come again, and this time to absolutely pour into his mouth. He swallowed her in gulps. Finally she released his head, so he stood up, and parted her legs, ready to enter her.

"No! If you're going to be my squirt slave, you have to work your way up to the privilege of fucking my pussy!" she said.

George rolled his eyes. He was tired of his own story plots. "Okay." he said, but then remembered that this character would probably want to be called something specific, so he said, "Yes, mistress."

This was the magic word, he realized, as she seemed satisfied. She leaned back on his counter and started masturbating. "Come for me!" she said.

His dick was sore from coming twice already, but he pulled it out and started masturbating.

"I want it in my mouth!" she whaled, as she was nearing orgasm. He walked over and jerked off into her mouth, and she swallowed him as she came. She stood up, and he could see a small puddle where she'd just come on the counter. She pulled her underwear straight, and pulled her saree back down over her legs. Then she stood and stared at him.

"What?" he asked.

"What do you think?" she replied, and arched her eyebrows, while looking at the puddle.

George rolled his eyes so hard he felt like they might get stuck in the back of his head, and walked over to the counter, leaned down, slurped up the puddle, and licked the counter until it was nearly dry. "Happy?" he said, but then realized, again, that one of his characters with a dom streak would want to punish him with a lot more squirting if he didn't call her "mistress." He wanted to get on with his day, and get this over with, so he quickly added, "Did I please you, mistress?"

"Very good! I'm glad I have you so close. I hope you are a very thirsty slave, because I am a very passionate drink of water, and I'm always just across the hall." she said, as she walked toward the door.

After shutting the door behind her, he sat down. "Fuck. My neighbor is an Indian woman with a dom fetish, and she's going to be obsessed with making me let her drain herself into my mouth. Probably every fucking day." he smiled, and laughed at himself. He realized that this was such a deep want of his for years. He'd written about almost exactly this woman, and this scenario, and it had driven him sexually wild. Yet, now, surrounded by as much squirt as in his fantasies, he was getting bored, and dreading it. He felt a little better, as he also remembered that all of his dom females are very sweet, loving women who fall in love with the man they dom. So, he decided that was something to look forward to. He laughed again, as he understood that he was essentially thinking the cliche, "Sex again? Can't we just cuddle?"

This was just the first day, and George was already getting worn out. The bet was nearly won.

Chapter 4

George woke up in the dark. Something was splattering on his face, and he could feel his head was pinned down.

"Shhhh, it's just me. I thought you might be thirsty." came a soft feminine voice, quavering with orgasm.

He actually was extremely thirsty, so he opened his mouth, and followed the stream in the dark as a guide until he pushed his lips against the gushing pussy, and let whatever woman this was spray into his mouth. She came for a long time, as she moaned in ecstasy, and he greedily drank her up, until she finished, and dismounted from his mouth.

Who the fuck was this? He started to think. He'd been dropped into this world, and already had an apartment, and a car, so maybe he had a girlfriend, too? It wasn't the Indian dom woman. He could tell because this woman's squirt tasted like refreshing spring water, whereas the Indian woman's had a delicious tang to it. Also, he noted, this woman's bush was longer, and soft against his upper lip, while the Indian woman's had been more trimmed and were bristly.

"Deepa said she dommed you, and forced you to drink her. I confess, I was a little jealous, which is partly why I woke you up with my juices. But now I want you to dom me, tomorrow! Make me your fuck slave. Please?"

He thought about turning on the lights and figuring out what was going on, but he was tired, and knew for a fact that he had nothing to worry about. So, he just said, "Okay, in the morning I'll make you pay for forcing me to drink your squirt!"

After tossing the wet pillow to the floor and finding another one in the dark, he went to sleep next to her.

Chapter 5

In the morning, George was delighted to see that the woman next to him was a voluptuous Latina in her early thirties. They both got up and did their morning ablutions, and then sat back on the bed. All at once, he lurched at her, and pinned her to the bed by her hands, and tied them down to the bed frame with the sheets.

He started fucking her mouth with his dick, and then started licking her clit, and fingering her. She moaned in ecstasy, "Did you just fucking come?" he demanded.

"Yes." she said.

"Did you forget I'm your master, and you have to ask permission before you come?"

"Sorry master!" she replied, her words varying in pitch as he roughly, and rapidly, rubbed her clit.

He shoved his fingers, covered in her female ejaculate, into her mouth, and fingered her mouth.

"Knock knock!" he heard from the living room.

He looked down, and his Latina fuck slave looked frightened.

"I forgot to lock the front door last night!" she gasped. He couldn't tell if she was just pretending though, as this was her game that she'd asked for last night, and whoever had just entered might be part of it.

He stuck his dick in her pussy and started fucking her, as he watched the bedroom door. The Indian neighbor, who he'd deduced was obviously the woman spoken of as "Deepa" walked through.

"Oh, two slaves!" she said, and walked over to the bed. She pulled her saree up, and wasn't wearing any underwear, so she swung her legs over the Latina woman's head, facing George, and started grinding on her face. "Hi Sophia." she said, breaking character for a moment.

"Hi Deepa, thanks for joining our fun!" said Sophia, also slipping out of the fantasy for a moment.

"I'm going to fucking come into your girlfriend's mouth, but she's not going to swallow my water. You're going to lean down as you fuck her, and slurp me out of her mouth." said Deepa, as she pulled her breasts out of her saree, and let them hang free.

George laughed, and pushed Sophia's legs up, and back, allowing him to get deep inside of her. She moaned, and pushed back unconsciously against his larger than average dick. Deepa rubbed her clit, and for a moment the only sounds were George's dick sliding in and out of Sophia, and Deepa's hand rubbing her pussy. Then, she moaned, and started to squirt into Sophia's mouth. George put his lips up to Sophia's mouth and slurped out all of the squirt. As he did so, Deepa's stream splashed all over his face, until he moved, and allowed the stream to flow into Sophia's mouth again. He repeated this a couple of times, until Deepa was done.

"Now, slave, get on your knees." said Deepa, and she positioned herself on all fours, with her face over Sophia's, and her ass in the air. George enjoyed watching their breasts pressed together. Sophia was lighter skinned than Deepa, and the contrast was beautiful. Deepa spread her cheeks, and said, "Lick my asshole. That will be your dinner, and I'll make Sophia squirt into my ass crack. You can lick that up for your dessert."

George was not having that, so he decided to do what this character would probably want in one of his stories. He said, "Enough! I'm going to make you both my slaves, now!" and he pushed Deepa down until she was lying on top of Sophia. Next he grabbed Deepa's arms, and tied them down alongside Sophia's.

Now he had two pussies in front of him. He tongue fucked Deepa for a bit, and then Sophia. He could hear Sophia and Deepa kissing.