tagErotic HorrorMandy in Dubai

Mandy in Dubai


The dragon's reptilian claws dug into the stone to wind its green scaled body tightly around the pillar. Its head with the ghastly big, baby-like eyes were raised into the blackness of the night sensing, keenly paying attention -- a hunger for the hunt filled the air. Only a faint, coal-black plume of smoke rose from its big, open nostrils -- like a human suppressing its breath to listen intently. The barbed tail was softly caressing the ground with a nervous twitch -- like a cat winding itself up before the lethal, lethal to the mouth, pounce.

Her bare foot silently touched the big castle rocks on the floor. The impending doom crept through her bones. Ever so carefully, she shifted her wait to move forward with scared eyes watching the dragon that was merely a foot away from her face. Like invisible, he twisted and turned his neck to push its nostrils into different directions, unable to sense her. She carefully moved another step.

There were more of them. Every pillar along the castle wall had one of those, heavy, muscular creatures bending their fluidly flexible bodies around the pillars. In the distance was the black hole, the door, of a tower, her safety. She had to move as slowly and silently as possible, while they were so close. Sulfur was stinging and burning her eyes. The monsters were poised to attack and tear her to pieces.

A tear drop formed, rolled over her eye lid, and free fell toward the ground. She swiftly reached with her hand for it, missed, and tried to catch it a second time barely above the ground. The tear shattered on the ground. A green scaled dragon shot its long, slender head around to point its big black nostrils directly at her face. It let out a screech that made the century-old castle rocks that hadn't moved ever tremble, threatening to collapse. The other dragons rose their tiny little flutter wings to raise three foot into the ground to have a little bit of height ready to leap down on her.

In blind panic, she started running. Her clothes vanished. She was naked. She ran as hard as she needed to. Oddly, she did not need to breathe. The monsters were darting around her, trying to snap at her. Her feet pounded forward faster than she had ever run. The darting teeth snapped closer and closer. She was sure that they were going to chop down on her shoulder. To her surprise, she managed to run even faster.

And suddenly, she was flying. She never thought that humans were able to fly. And she as flying faster and faster. She rose high into the sky into the clouds of blackness. The dragons could not keep up falling back as she climbed above all. She felt free. Waves of joy were rolling over her like finding the place where she really belonged. Her body moved through the air as easily as her thoughts imagined her moves. She raised her arms to dance around.

And out of impulse, she turned around and launched toward the first dragon that she saw, a little guy with reddish scaling. She bit him. To her utter surprise, her teeth sank deeply into the flesh. The dragon screeched helplessly and fell mortally wounded toward the ground. Her face was smothered in red dragon blood, a spray of red sprinkles over her bare breast. This was fun! She never realized such powers in her before. Why had she been so afraid of the dragons before?

Another dragon was trying to jump her from behind. She flipped around and flung her hand with claw like fingers wide across like a cat pouncing. The fingers carved through the dragon's body like a hot knife through butter. Deep red blood trails were left on his body that opened up with blood gushing and severed muscles drooping. With sadness the eyes of the dragon begged her for only a moment before he too fell toward the ground.

Feeling her strength and the joy of destruction, she leapt onto the next dragon only to be assaulted by three dragons from all sides at the same time. Lustily, she bit into dragons and tore their scales and flesh off their bodies. She used her fingers like fangs only to fend one of long enough to spit out the heart of a dragon to savagely bite that dragon as well. No matter how they darted at her, she was always faster. And her kicks and punches were always faster than theirs. Drenched in dragon blood, the hunting lust viscerally overwhelmed her to make her shout with her whole being for the whole kingdom to hear.

Then a weak croaking out of her throat startled her. She opened her eyes and saw the daylight drifting in through the open window. The solid sunlight was perforated by the shade of the big oak tree in front of her room. She felt the warm blanket around her. She couldn't move at all for a moment as dreams sometimes paralyzed her.

The reality of having to find a job crashed into her mind. She was Mandy. A community college had graduated her three weeks ago. There were no more classes to go to. It made her feel naked to no longer have the rhythm of going to a class. She felt that she needed to move out and into the world. Only with sadness, she let go of the powerful feeling in the dream.

The pillow smelled of her, kind of like straw. The scent was heavy and made her feel warm -- a bad habit of indulging in her sloppiness to skip laundry for weeks. While she inhaled her own scent, her senses came back to feel the heavy down comforter on top of her. Her boobs felt pressed from sleeping the night on top of them. She slipped her hands down her body to get under the pink and blue panties that were hugging her hips tightly. They were shaped to carve in a narrow triangle around the front of her body. The front was a soft fabric that narrow to a tight thick fabric at the bottom of her perineum. She pushed them over her knees making yoga like moves with her legs to get them over her toes.

Without opening her eyes, she put her own panties over her eyes. She deeply inhaled -- a seductively smooth smell titillated her. The smell was thick from gathering overnight. The point that had been over her opening was moist -- a mixture of hours old dry stains and some fresh dots. The nastiness of being overnight dirty turned her on.

Her fingers had already found their way to her favorite spot -- between the clitoris and the entrance. She rubbed pressing on the down stroke, swiftly and light on the up stroke. Good feelings spread through her body. Her closed eyes' gaze became dreamy again entering the feeling of soaring with dragons. The erotic charge was growing as she pushed her pubic bone harder into her hand. Getting close to the cliff, she made the upstrokes higher to flick her bean.

And then it erupted. The breath stopped. She put two fingers inside of her pussy. The paralysis set in -- only able to push her pubic bone harder into her hand. The spasm set in to tense all the muscles in her body. Warm and wonderful red and orange colors flooded the inside of her eye lids. Everything was alright.

"Fuck, I'm late again for breakfast. Mom is waiting," hissed without self-control over her lips.


"Oh sweet child, you look amazing in a suit," exclaimed Mandy's mother. She stood in the warm-yellow sun flooded kitchen behind the counter island. Her feet were bare with a golden Hindu toe ring and ankle bracelet with many tiny symbols hanging off of it. Her long, stalky legs were in a black yoga pant. The wife beater top showed ample loose skin and son spots from her age. Yet her eyes still had the blue sparkle and enthusiasm of a hippie.

"I feel so awkward in a suit. The material is so stiff. No, it's not stiff. It simply molds me into something else with the padded shoulders and all. I dreamed again about losing my clothes."

"Honey, losing your clothes in a dream means that you feel unprepared. It's only natural that you feel that way. You are stepping out into the grown up world."

"I don't know how my friends do it. They all have signed contracts already and talk about their new bosses. I keep going to the employment office every day and nothing."

"It hurts me to see you struggle. Why don't you get a husband? That's what I did it. Imagine, I wouldn't have stayed home to play in the park with you every day, when you were a little girl. Oh, you always liked weaving head dresses out of wild flowers. I wouldn't have wanted to miss that for anything. What about that boy? Sam was his name. He was a very nice young man."

"Mom," sniffed Many and dug her spoon deep into the cereal bowl with the red wheat circle swimming in the white milk among red dots of dried fruit pieces. The toes of her bare feet were uneasily following the grooves in the bar stool that she was sitting on, while leaning her elbows onto the kitchen center aisle.

"Don't huff me, Misses!"

"Mom, the world has changed. Kristie is going to design malls all over the country. Lynn is going to counsel inner city kids. She is going to keep hundreds of juveniles from going to prison. That means something. And Sam is a mouth breather and buzz kill, who goes to church on Sundays."

"Church is about love and helping people. You could need a little more of that."

"Church is about repression and hate against the LGBT community."

"You know that's not true."

"I'm just so nervous about the interview today. I don't know what is coming over me."

They both looked at the TV humming in the background. A blond woman in super high red high heels was eagerly nodding, while a chubby, old man in a suit talked. She held an umbrella over both of them, because it was raining heavily in the financial district in Manhattan. The microphone had a clear plastic bag pulled over, which look funny almost like a condom.

"The third bank has declared bankruptcy due to the spreading mortgage crisis. We have confirmed with our sources in several trading offices that liquidity has dried up completely. Panic is rampant. Anyone who can call in debt has called in debt. Projections are painting a terrifying picture for homeowners. Millions of home owners will lose their house within the next six months."

Mandy's mother turned off the TV. "We have another month before daddy's money runs out. You go get a job and save this house."

With a painfully sad face, Mandy put the spoon into the empty bowl. She pulled the brand new folder with her resume of the table. She slipped her freshly washed feed into the sparkling new high heels with the point toes. She pushed the fabric flat on her tight, knee length gray business skirt. The tight skirt made her put her feet more pronounced in front of each other. There was not enough gait to make full steps. The white blouse sparkled in between the gray, sharp jacket.

"That ass looks so tight in that little skirt," gushed her mom with glee, "I just want to grab it. Go catch a good husband with that."

"Mom, I know that you are all comfortable with your yoga and hippie friends and all. It's not right that you stare at my ass that way."

Mom laughed friendly at the stern, tense face of her daughter and waved her to "kill it" at the interview.

----- "Your student ID is expired. That'll be 75 cents fare," said the bus driver in the blue pants with black stripes, light blue collar shirt, and dark blue vest. He tipped his black hat friendly. A line of five people eager to get to work pushed closer to Mandy. Unable to get into the bus, they were shifting from foot to foot.

Mandy held out a dollar bill. Her bright red painted lips were gaping open in confusion. Her brown eyes looked dramatic with the sharp black mascara outlines. The brunette hair was neatly combed back held in place by gel with not a single stray or fuzzy strand of hair.

"The machine won't give you change if you put a whole dollar in," said the bus driver sternly, scanning the traffic ahead and moving his leather gloves hands across the large steering wheel.

"What the fuck! You have a quarter right there."

"Ma'am, it's city policy."

"I ain't overpaying you."

"Pay or step off."

"What the fuck! You are rude. I want to talk to your supervisor!"

"Step off woman," the bus driver grew tense worrying about his schedule. All eyes in the bus were on her. The woman with the five bags around her feet leaned around the vertical handle bar to see better.

Mandy crossed her arms. "You gotta be kidding me!" A neatly dressed business man with a suit case stepped forward, while folding a leather wallet open that had leather so smooth that it must have cost a fortune. "A pretty lady like you shouldn't have to pay for bus far," he said with a smile and fed the machine with the dollar bill.

"Thank you," said Many with her nose raised high and walked past the men to the middle of the bus.

A retired man with a worn shirt, suspenders, and black hat got off his seat and pointed at it for Mandy to sit down. She ignored the man and held onto the handle bar in the center swiveling part of the bus. A middle aged woman with a big belly and faded track suit leaned to Mandy, "take the seat. He got up for you." She smiled friendly, as if she was making Mandy a gift by pointing out something that Mandy had overseen. "Ugh, I won't sit where that creep has been sitting."

Everyone had boarded. The bus moved on with a little jerk as the second gear loaded in. She had to hold tight to the handle bar. With her hand holding on, her whole body pivoted a bit around the hand, because she stood unsure in the interview high heels, which she had traded in for her Havaianas flip flops -- those snake skin patterned things with bright pink straps to show off her blue and black toe nail paint.

"You look very pretty," said the woman in the race track suit trying to charm her. The gold necklace looked tacky around her throat.

"Yeah," hollered one of the three Latino boys in the back of the bus, "you are really pretty." He mocked her in his Latin accent. "Shorty, what's your number? I wanna take you on a date with flowers'n'shit. You know real nice."

She ignored them. Once she had flipped a group like those off. That had only encouraged them even more. A guy in his early thirties with a Hilfiger jacket and Dr Dre headphones was watching her boobs continuously. His face looked relaxed and somewhat in a trance. His music blew the bass of club tunes softly in her direction. A woman with braces hit her boyfriend on the arm with a slap, presumably to make him stop staring at Mandy. Welcome to the zoo of the bus.


With her head held high, shoulders back, ass clenched, knees long, Mandy strutted out of the elevator in a beeline toward the worn sign-in desk of her community colleges career center. There were palm trees trying to stay alive in a room without windows among the simple metal chairs with the thin, brown upholstery. There were ample of seats. Big framed white sheets with signatures of successful alumni decorated the wall.

All the other students, tension immediately infected her. Their faces were estranged staring ahead. A few fingers turned uncomfortable circles around the screws in a chair. Other fingers were pressed flat by a pair of thighs to keep them from fingering around. Everyone was pale and breathing short, little breaths. People sat artificially upright. Ankles were either hidden under the chair out of fear or crossed for self-comforting.

Mandy's hand was shaking, when she held out her driver license on the desk. She put the wrist on the table to make it less obvious. She had big wide open eyes on her driver license. It always gave her a pang in her stomach to see that image. The license read in small, clear type: 5'5", 110 lbs., brown eyes, brown hair, 21 years old, lives in Portland Oregon.

The career counselor was dressed in a sharp business suit. The glasses alone spoke of authority. Mandy could not believe how the neat, skinny, elegant frame could instill so much authority. The glasses band that went behind her head had seemed so silly on everyone else. On the career counselor, it marked her as from another class, a class of people that works with papers that accepts glass bands, and has no clue about what music or nail polish is cool. Basically, Mandy knew nothing about that world, yet had to get accepted into it.

"I have two interviews for you today. The first one is an assistant teacher job for an elementary school. The second one is an office assistant for Logistics International. You are up in 10. Please, have a seat."

Mandy's heart was beating hard. She felt like she had to take a little sip of air with each beat, because it was so intense. Her ears were pounding with each pulse beat. Sweat was forming around her ears. The mind blanked. Whatever she looked at seemed to be swimming. A sole thought appeared in her head: "You have been standing here for a while. They expect you to move."

She took a few steps. Her ankle bent over, because her foot had missed the center of the high heel. It hurt like hell. She had to hide the pain on her face. She had to move. Nobody was really looking at her. They were all in their own world of terror.

"Cock, I need a cock. A fucking cock to fill my pussy. A young man's smooth penis 's base pressing against my clitoris as it slips in all the way."

Mandy staggered to the college restroom. There was a row of four stalls. The sinks were bare. Paper towel dispensers were ransacked with a few scraps of paper having getting stuck at the outlet of the dispenser. The blue baby blue tiles looked sterile. She opened the first stall. The door felt flimsy in her hand. The whole row of stalls rattled with the door swinging open. The joints among the stall panels were flimsy and had big gaps.

She rode the gray pencil skirt high to reveal the classy white panty. She slipped the small white crotch rocket vibrator out of her black purse. She placed the purse on the floor. She sat down, slouching forward as far as she could in the round seat with profanity scratched into it. The white vibrator was poised at the tip of her entrance. She pushed it in. It was a little rough, because her skin was dry.

With the last bit sticking out, she turned it on. The unmistaken vibrator sound echoed audible through the restroom. She quickly pushed it all the way into her womb. She crossed the legs tightly. The muffled vibration was still audible and even more indicting. A girl outside stopped moving to listen. Mandy clenched her thighs as hard together as she could. The sound completely disappeared, a trick that she had learned. However, with all the hard tension, the vibrations travelled far. The vibrations rattled her skeleton up to the collar bone. Her entire belly was vibrating on the inside.

She closed her eyes knowing that she could not move her legs or the sound would pour out again, knowing that she could not touch herself with her hands, because the thighs covered all, knowing all that she had to surrender to let the crotch rocket take her.

So, she thought about a young man in a shower in a little beach hut on a tropical island with pure blue water and warm sand outside. They were inside with a primitive, tropical shower. He had pinned her against the shower wall. His pelvis was pounding her against the wall. Her feet were wrapped around his hips and crossed at the ankle. She'd feel the water running down her face and over her open mouth. His muscular chest would press against her boobs.

The fullness of his cock was stretching her out all the way, throbbing against her cervix. He nailed her harder and harder. In the real world, she clenched her thighs harder and harder. The pressure was getting her to the spot, where the orgasm took over. All the feelings of relaxation and feeling good were overriding her anxiety. She was relieved. She felt good. She felt happy. She was self-medicating the most potent anti-anxiety drug.

She imagined the young man's semen shooting into the depth of her belly in spurts, filling her up, filling her up with a glow. She felt so good about making him hard, about feeling the intensity in him. He'd softly kiss her lips. Then, she lost herself in the feeling of warm water running over her, while she came down from her quickie orgasm.

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