Monday, October 13, 2008


This is a wee shemale story I wrote for Alison Tyler's blog recently. It was part of her Auto Erotica contest, which had 17 entries, each of 250 words or less. Some very fine little tales there, so check it out. Anyway, here's mine:


The chauffeuse pulls up alone to the mansion in a pre-WWI Silver Ghost. She gets out: a huge, buxom, Valkyrie of a woman, warrior-browed, clad in tight, black leather, black boots, and an interesting kind of buttoned sailor flap over the groin.

That flap has a tremendous bulge to it.

"You’re the new maid," she says. Wearing my stupid little French maid uniform I want to say something sarcastic but I just nod. "Your duties have been explained to you?" I nod. "Get in. I need you now. We’ll go somewhere private." I nod. "You’d better be good because the last one was absolutely hopeless." I nod.

She gets behind the wheel. I jump in beside her. She moves to put the vehicle in gear and I’m sorry, but I just can’t wait.

I reach with ecstatic, frantic fingers. Pop pop-pop pop. A giant sausage flops out. She gasps. Then it’s in my mouth and I’m in her lap sucking with more ferocity than that fucking vacuum cleaner I used all morning.

"Help!" she squeals, writhing in helpless panic. "Rape!" She writhes and swells inside my mouth, expanding exponentially. The butler and several maids come running.

"Oh my," says the genteel old butler, clearly at a loss. My arms are around the bitch’s big leather hips like a vice.

"Bentley!" she cries, breath coming in great heaves, "help! Save me!"

Then she blows up in my mouth and all the little maids clap and cheer.

1 comment:

kswolff said...

Somewhere JG Ballard is happy.