TAIL OF THE DARK SIDE
By John Candu
Greetings, sweeties. I'm Aleena, and, man!, do I have a strange tail, I mean tale for you!
I am thirty years old, 5-ft. 7-inches without stilettos, lanky at 130 lbs., dark hair, pouty lips, and have a really-really nice ass, which I know how to use and, dear lord, does it ever get used! My circumcised clit is a proud six inches.
My cross dressing goes way back -- so far back that I can't even remember my first set of heels. It's an art I've cultivated carefully over the years, and I have a lovely, shaved, moisturized, curvaceous feminine body.
Friday nights are when I absolutely flower. I like nothing better than to slip into black stockings, a micro-mini, and low-cut blouse with a little color, perhaps a red belt or a scarf, and head for the clubs.
This past Friday evening, on a full moon, club life was looking dull, and I was about to head home early, close to midnight, when a well-built black stud eased next to me at the bar and offered to buy me a drink.
Jace was at least 6' 5" and muscular with a smooth coffee-and-cream skin. He looked like a basketball star but said he was a teacher. We conversed over a couple of drinks I had my usual Mud Slide with plenty of Kaluha and before long he was leaning in close, rubbing his hands over my back and letting his hard cock graze my leg. It was just too much -- my clit was standing up and just a wagging. I hate to seem over eager, but he no sooner asked if I wanted to go back to his place than we were out the door.
Now all the teachers I've ever known lived quite modestly. But Jace's condo was definitely high-end. Authentic-looking African headgear and strange, ancient pieces decorated his walls, and musty-looking eldritch artifacts and ominous stones of questionable origin were tastefully displayed. Leather-bound (seemingly so, though I've never seen or felt leather quite like this before with such eerie, well, grayish/pinkish color...) books filled shelves on every wall, and dark paneling gave the place a rich but gloomily unsettling atmosphere. I couldn't put my finger on it, but there was something strange about the place -- and Jace himself though I've got to admit that he was plenty nice enough.
I shrugged off the strange feeling and turned my attention to him, as I hoped to soon have his chocolate cock plugging my mouth and ass. He poured more drinks and we sat talking on his black leather sofa. He sat close and I teased him unmercifully, lightly tracing the outline of his zippered but throbbingly huge member with my delicate painted fingers.
Jace was clearly a sophisticate and an excellent host. Each time my glass got more than half empty he refilled it. It was an expensive whiskey that I couldn't quite place. Before long I was beyond tipsy. What happened after a certain point is now vague at best, but I do remember certain things clearly, such as finding myself willingly bent over what I first thought was an ancient desk that smelled oddly of mouldering wood and perhaps something more sinister. Black candles were aflame all around us, casting eerie dancing shadows.
Maybe it was the booze, but for whatever reason I found that I was even hornier, with the worst case of butt itch I can recall. My mini was hitched up around my waist I don't wear panties, so I was exposed and r'arin' to go. My wrists were chained down, and my ankles were strapped to the legs of the table. Due to my horny state, I was not the least concerned. I could hear Jace fumbling behind me and thought he was just getting out of his clothing. But then I caught a glimpse of him in a wall mirror and went cold. I thought I would surely pass out from the horrible sight. Jace was robed, with black hood, and upon his chest rested what looked to be a huge diamond-encrusted black pentagram -- the upside down, BAD kind of pentagram. And he held in front of him the largest god-damned sword I've ever seen. Both fists were wrapped around the handle and it looked for all the world as if he were about to slam that thang between my wing bones and halve me like a hen.
Instead, Jace began mumbling as he traced in the air what could have been a pentagram. The chanting grew louder, and I discerned a foreign tongue that sounded something like this: "Yggdilla, R'Leah, M'goodoo, Astoth, Belial."
As the ceremony proceded, a long line of other robed figures filed into the room behind him. Each carried a black candle and was repeating the litany in sync with Jace.
Jace's chanting grew louder and his voice took on the texture of a growl. His cock rose hard as steel from his open robe. He finally put down that nasty sword and approached my open buttocks. His drippy-wet cockhead pressed against my sphincter. He grabbed my hips -- his hands felt clawlike and hairy -- and he slammed home brutally. His balls were soon slapping my own. No less than ten glorious inches of thick cockmeat invaded my ass, and I met his wicked thrusts with proportionate counterthrusts. Jace's cock stretched me to the limit and in awhile my ass felt as if it were hanging loose an open like an old slut's used cunt, almost as if all tone and resistance had gone outa my poor aching sphincter ring. My clit bounced around wildly, slinging precum, just hard as rock, as Jason slammed into me, growling fearsomely, for more than 20 minutes, maybe more. I was simply in heaven. A prodigious amount of pre-cum leaked around his cock and outa my hole. It flowed over my balls and hung in long sticky ropes. Lord, I have never experienced anything so hot -- his balls made soup the whole time he plowed me. Then he picked up speed and I felt the claws dig in as his baby-maker got ready to seed me. At the same time, the chanting audience picked up the pace, sounding as if they would reach a vocal climax -- and I was not incorrect. With an ear-splitting howl, Jason gushed -- his cum hosed the walls of my colon with such force that I felt myself filling up and overflowing. The audience howled and screamed as well, and Jason spurted maybe ten or twelve times, taking me with no regard to anything but his vital need.
My breeding was finally finished -- all too soon. The master had given me his gift. Cum poured in long thick strings from my ass-pussy as he pulled out with a wet, slicky "pop!"
Master was done, but the congregation was now ready. I took dick after dick all night long easily 50 cocks just as huge as Master's. Never had I been filled so full -- way beyond capacity -- with cum time after time after time as those howling, chanting followers took my body. Cum coated by balls and legs and puddled at my feet.
At some point I passed out, only to wake up stretched over what I could now see was an ancient wooden altar. In addition to the thick coating of drying cum on my ass and legs, I was lying in a pool of my own seed from, obviously, having enjoyed the evening intensely. My wrists and feet were now free. I found in front of me a strange, aged parchment with the following note penned in a strange, blood red ink:
"My Dearest Aleena, you were simply wonderful as our altar cover last night. You are hereby invited to occupy a prized and honored position in our congregation, and we hope you will consider. If your answer is yes, simply be here at midnight for your continued initiation. Signed, Your Dark Lover."
I know, without doubt, that I would be here again at the appointed hour.
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