“This is my body, given for you.”

“What are those for?”
“These are for later.”

 

Lo is naked in bed.  “Come, Daddy.  Fuck me.”

“No, I’m writing.”

“Oh, please!!!!”

“Later.  Not now.”

“Then be a doll and fetch me a cucumber.”

I get her the vegetable from the kitchen and bring it to her in the bedroom.

“Now give me a condom.”

“Why?”

“You know what sort of stuff they put on this thing?  Insecticides, wax, who knows what!  Put a condom over any phallic-shaped object and you’re good to go.”

“Thanks for the free advice,” I say as I pull a condom out from my nightstand drawer.

“You’re welcome.”

I begin to leave the room.

“You sure you don’t want to get in on this?” she asks as she spreads her legs and puts the cucumber in her hole.”

“I’ll pass on the salad.  I haven’t even had breakfast yet.”

“Well, you’re missing out.  The dressing is homemade.”

I leave the room and return to my computer where I try to continue writing.  My thoughts are disturbed by the moans, groans, and then screams and sighs that I hear my little nymphet producing like a primitive mating call, signaling to all within earshot that she is eager for cock, or pussy, or something.  I believe I read about that as an actual scientific theory in the book Sex at Dawn.  Women are louder than men when it comes to sex because their sounds are an enticement for other men to fuck them, thus increasing the likelihood of fertilization.

Just a fun photo I found featuring Sex at Dawn

That morning I was able to prove the theory true through the scientific method of replication of results.  No sooner had Lola howled to the heavens about how filling and nutritionally valuable her ‘vagetable’ was, than there was a knocking at the door.

Annoyed, I get up from my computer, where I hadn’t been able to write more than a sentence, and I answer the door – Lola’s sex-singing still quite audible in the background.  Standing at the door is a FedEx delivery guy.  He seems to be in his fifties.  Old, tired, rundown.  However, he hears the post-self-coital cooing coming from the bedroom.

“I have a package for delivery.  It needs your signature.”

I look at the package.  I see Lo’s name on it.  “Oh, it’s not for me.  It’s for Lola,” I say, looking up at him.

“Whatever,” he says, shrugging his shoulders.  “I just need a signature.”

I’m feeling particularly wily that morning and so I insist that it be signed by Lola.

“Lo!” I call, “Oh Lo,” I repeat in a sing-song fashion.

“I’m busy!” I hear bellowing down the hall and I also just perceive the sound of her Hitachi Magic Wand buzzing in the background like a distant hedge trimmer.

“There’s a man here to see you,” I say in a loud voice.  I look at the delivery man and give him a knowing wink.

Lo comes stomping down the hallway, barefoot, naked, her inner thighs glistening with the glaze of her last orgasm, her breasts flailing from left to right with each deliberate footfall.

“What?  Who?”

She stands behind me and sees the delivery man.

“Signature, ma’am,” he says, unflustered.

Lo wedges herself in front of me and stands, stark naked in the doorway, grabbing the electronic signature board, scribbling her name and taking the package.

“It’s a big package” she says, not about what is in her hands, but about the delivery man.

“Thank you, ma’am,” he says.

“You need something?” she asks.  “A drink?  You look parched.”

“No ma’am,” he says, so politely, “I must be going.”

“OK, too bad,” she says, licking her lips.

He turns and walks to his truck.

“What is that?” I ask Lo of the package.

“The latest from ErosettiPress.”

“Oh really?!” I say, excited.

“Yep,” she says, tearing open the package.

She pulls out the very handsome hardcover book: The Anthology of Erotic Narrative, Volume I: Fetish.  “Look!  Our story!”  She shows me the chapter, “Crisscross,” which includes a sexy illustration of Lola, on her back, as sushi is displayed upon her for a nyotaimori feast.

“Dante Remy, the editor, had to condense it from the original,” she adds by way of explanation.

“I frequently have that problem – too much length.”

“Not with me you don’t,” she says.  “Oh!  And look!  They even included a little blurb about us!”

She reads from the bio page:

 

H.H. & Lola, based in the US, push the boundaries of conventional relationships, captivating their readers and followers with their unapologetic exploration of desire and the endless possibilities of a love that knows no limits.  Their large erotic cult following includes tribute artwork and photos from readers, often displaying their books in explicit context.  These fan images and art are published along with the stories in their books, and on their active blog and social media presence.  They are at the center of a community of erotic art and expression.  You can engage with them on their blog site mysexlifewithlola.com and their X and Instagram social media.

 

“What do you think?” she asks me.

“You didn’t write that?” I ask her.

“No, silly!”

“Well, I like it.”  I take the book from her hands to read it over once again.  “I especially like the ‘unapologetic’ bit.”

“Yes, that describes you,” she said, not without a hint of irony.

“And the ‘large erotic cult following.’  That’s nice.”

“Yep – and true.”

“He says we are ‘the center of a community of erotic art and expression.’”

“Well, aren’t we?”

“I guess.  I just never thought of us like that.”

“I’ve thought of me like that,” she remarks.

“Of course you have.  Too bad we have since been banned from X and Instagram.  If the Marquis de Sade lived today, he wouldn’t be locked up in the Bastille, he’d be banished from social media!”

“You keep on having grandiose thoughts of you and Sade and the evil electronic geniuses aligned against you, I think I’ll go back to my regularly scheduled programming,” she says, taking the book and walking down the hall.

“Hey,” I call to her.

She stops and turns around.  “Yes?”
“What’s put you in this Saturday morning self-abuse mood?”

“Do I need a reason?”
“No, but you usually have one.”

“If you must know, I’ve been getting a lot of fan mail ever since we posted the interview with Hani Miletski.”

Totally Taboo?”
“Yeah, that one.”

“What sort of fan mail?”

“Why don’t you cum and read it with me?  I mean, wait, reverse that.”

“Very funny.”

I follow her down the hall to the bedroom where she has the cucumber, her Hitachi, and her laptop all spread out over the bed.

She turns the computer screen toward me and shows me an image from a female fan.  It is of a young, mid-thirties woman, in bed, a towel wrapped around her hair as if she had just got out of the shower, with her two children, a girl and a boy, suckling at her breasts.  Above and behind her, on the wall, are mounted two framed paintings from the blog.  One of MILF Meri and her son, the other of Lola as a little girl with her panties over her head, standing naked and defiant.  Both artworks were made by our dear Ukrainian friend Sergii.

Pam at home breastfeeding with art by Sergii above her

“And who is this?” I ask.

“Her name is Pam and she’s a housewife raising twins – a boy and a girl.  She doesn’t believe in setting an age for ending breastfeeding.  She told me she’s inspired by Sophie Rose.”

“Who?”

“Oh, never mind.  It’s a movement to breastfeed kids later into life.”

“That’s a movement?”

“Yeah, but she’s on the fringes of that movement?”

“What’s that mean?”

“She is advocating for breastfeeding-self-care.”

“Now you’ve lost me.”

“She enjoys a wank-spank under the covers while the twins are latched onto her tits.”

“And that’s a movement?!”

“Well, not yet, but she is hoping to make it one.”

“You find all kinds,” I said in astonishment.

“It’s not all that uncommon,” remarked Lo, rather clinical about it.  “Pam discovered, like a lot of women who breastfeed, that it is or can be stimulating.  Sexually stimulating.  She got all tingly between her legs.  One day, at the airport no less, she was breastfeeding and, to her complete and utter surprise. . .”

“You mean udder surprise,” I suggest.

“Just full of wit this morning, aren’t ya, ole man?  She suddenly squirted, right out of the blue, right there in public!  She realized later that it was probably a combination of being sexually frustrated – she was going to see her husband who was stationed across the country for work – and the excitement of having her breasts exposed in public where she was getting a lot of stares.”

“Don’t they have special rooms for that?”

“I don’t know,” says Lo, returning the cucumber to its holster inside her as she places the Hitachi on her clit and looks at the photo again.  “But now she does it all the time.  She says it creates the most intense orgasms and bonding experience she’s ever felt.  Now she’s trying to spread the word.  That’s why she wrote to me.  When she saw the interview with Melitski, she thought that our blog would be a good way to publicize the masturlactation method, as she calls it.”

“A portmanteau of ‘masturbation’ and ‘lactation’ I assume?”

She is too fully engaged in her own masturbation to answer me.

Without looking at me, she simply says, “Suck my tits, Daddy.”

I comply, leaning over to latch onto her left breast while my right hand fondles and pulls on her right nipple.  She instantly climaxes – her clenching pussy shooting the cucumber straight out of her pussy like a torpedo!  That is followed by a tsunami of squirt.

“Holy FUCK!” she says, as she apparently surprised even herself.

“Feel better, Love?” I ask.

She laughs to herself.

“What?” I ask.

“As I was cumming, I had the weirdest thought.”

“What was that?” I ask, realizing that we have been in the realm of weird for quite some time.

“I wondered if all those millions of images of the Madonna and Child – you know, of the Virgin Mary and Jesus as an infant at her breast – I wondered if in all of them, if the Holy Mother is in the state of orgasmic bliss.  Isn’t that weird?  I mean, wouldn’t that be something?”

Mary and Baby Jesus

“Only you could have a theophany to put you over the edge.  Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to write.”

“What are you going to write?” she asks, skimming through images of the Madonna and Child.

“All about you.”

Caravaggio – Madonna and Child with St. Anne

Fan Photo

Please Support This Ukrainian Artist – Sergii-G!

Dear Friends,

I hope you’ve been enjoying the latest stories from HH about me/us. I know it’s been a while since the last one, but HH is working on something big and long – just how I like it!

I also hope you’ve enjoyed the illustrations to those stories.  Many of the latest illustrations have been from an amazingly talented artist – Sergii-G.  He and I have become pen-pals and have been corresponding for a long time now. I can tell you he is sweet, charming, and smart! But I can also tell you he is now living under incredibly difficult conditions – horrifying, dangerous, nightmare conditions. He lives in the city that currently the Russians are bombing every day in Ukraine and his life is in threatened on an hourly basis. He takes refuge in art and beauty.

Sergii-G’s Self-Portrait with Lola

I recently asked him to make a self-portrait of him drawing me. He sent this amazing image of us both at a sunny beach as I “model” for him. He told me that the first idea he had – a drawing of what it is actually like to draw me – was “too sad and sorrowful” for him to do. So he chose a more cheerful setting.

I write to you to tell you in order to ask that you help my dear, talented friend. He has a Patreon page and you can support him in this very difficult time by becoming a patron of his there. Please, do it for him, for me, and for the amazing art that he/we share with you.

https://www.patreon.com/sergii_g/about

Sincerely,

Lola – your nympho next door.

Sergii-G sketch of a work we posted earlier.

https://www.patreon.com/sergii_g/about

Hallucinatory Hijinks

When Lola had returned from her Halloween party, dressed as slutty Princess Leia, she seemed coherent, cognizant, and eager to fill her cunt with my cock and cum.  Little did I know that she had eaten enough cannabis confections to outstrip an LSD trip of Grateful Dead proportions.

It was only the next day, when she groggily recounted to me the amazing journey she had taken in her mind and body, that I realized what her subjective sexperience was.

What I thought was happening the night Lola got home from the Halloween party. Art by RigsUsuallyHiddenDrawings

 

“I got home,” she said when she was more sober, “and I felt like I was a honey pot.  Or rather, that my pussy was a honey pot.  I was gushing and oozing, sloshing and dripping.”

“I can confirm that much was true.  I didn’t know at the time it was from so many men at the party finding release between your legs.”

She didn’t take offense at this, but corrected me, “And women.”

“Yes, and women.”

“And then,” she abruptly stopped.

“And then what?”

“It’s so weird!”

“What is?”

“Well, then it was as if I was copulating with. . .”

“With what?”

“With all sorts of insects – bees, hornets, spiders, worms, cockroaches, beetles, slugs – I mean, if it crawls, flies, or slithers, it was fucking me.”

“Formicophilia,” I said.

“Formi-wha?”
“Formicophilia.  It’s an unusual paraphilia.  The kink of having insects crawl on you.”

“But they weren’t crawling.  They were fucking me!  I was human.  It was interspecies sex!”

“It’s a variation on a theme.”

I caught her looking at me funny.  Staring at me.

“What?” I finally asked.

“Oh, Daddy, you know what,” she said.

“No, I don’t know what.”

“Those words.  You know how your vocabulary turns me on.  The fact that you had those words – formicophilia and paraphilia – on your tongue.  It make me want to be on your tongue.”

“Now?” I asked.

“Now.”

“Will you continue telling me your story?”

“Yes.”

Formicophilia Nymphs

She didn’t even get up to go to the bedroom.  Right here on the living room couch – the couch that looks out the front windows of our first floor apartment onto the street – she pulled down her panties, pulled off her shirt, and spread her legs.  She indicated that she wanted me to get on my knees in front of her and go to town with my chrysostom, my golden tongue.

I did exactly that as she continued to recall to me the stimulating horror of her drug-induced hallucinatory hijinks.

“Normally, you know, I’m creeped out by anything – a spider, a snake, even ants!  But in my visions, I wasn’t freaked out at all!  I was focused on the fact that all these creatures wanted me!  They were bursting with need.  They were on the verge of insanity with their hunger for me.  They had to copulate and I was the one and only focus if their intense sexual attraction.”

SLURP – SLOP – SPLUSH

That was the sound of me taking her in my mouth – sucking on her labia, licking up and in her slit, gently tickling her clit.

She continued as her hands held my head between her legs.

“Then the creatures morphed into unidentifiable organisms.  Aliens maybe? Squids? And then everything, everything I touched became a penis.  It was like. . .”

After that, I couldn’t hear what she was saying.  She squeezed her thighs together tightly and her legs covered my ears.  Good thing too, because she began screaming as her juices dribbled down my chin and her legs started to twitch.  She pressed my head down hard with her hands and then, just as surprisingly, pulled me off of her so that she could stroke her pussy with her hand as she squirted in my face.

That was the last I heard of her story.  I retrieved some paper towels to dry off and to clean up the puddle left on the hard-wood floor.

She simply laid back on the couch, relaxed, and dozed off.

 

 

 

We Interrupt This Story To Bring You These Reviews

Match, Cinder & Spark, Volume 6: SlutLife Cover

Hello Friends, Fiends, and Casual Internet Kinksters Looking For Fun,

We interrupt our usual kinky stories to bring you these reviews of Match, Cinder and Spark, Volume VI: SlutLife, out now by Erosetti Press.

Library By from Goodreads gives it 5 Stars and writes:

From the moment we opened “Slut Life” by Lola and HH on our vacation, we knew we were in for an adventure. This book isn’t just a story; it’s an experience that transports you into a world filled with thrilling action, complex characters, and compelling narratives that captivate from the first page to the last.

Reading this book together became the highlight of our days, lounging by the beach or curled up in our hotel room after a day of exploring. The vivid descriptions and the dynamic between the characters not only entertained us but also brought us closer together. It’s a rare find that a book can offer such excitement and also serve as a catalyst for deeper connection and conversation between us. Naturally, pleasant evenings (and days) ensued!

The action-packed scenes were beautifully written, keeping us on the edge of our seats, and the characters’ journeys were both inspiring and thought-provoking. The authors have a unique way of weaving tension and release throughout the narrative, making it impossible to put the book down.

And Dante on Twitter (I mean “X”) says:

The essence of “Slut Life” lies in its ability to raise critical questions about the nature of love and relationships in today’s society. One such question is: What does it mean to love freely? Through the chapter “Prospero & Miranda,” we are presented with a vision of love that transcends traditional boundaries.  “Jeff, you’re never going to be happy with Sally or any woman until you learn that love is not limited or limiting. Love is license. Love is liberating. Love is the levity of life.” This quote invites readers to reflect on the limitations often placed on love by societal norms and to consider the liberating potential of embracing a more expansive view of love.

You don’t have to search the shelves to find it. Get your copy today right here and send us a sexy photo of you reading it!

Chimera (pt. 2)

“What is happening?” asked Lo in her host’s ear.

“You saw the dessert table and, before I could stop you, you ate a large slice of cake.  More THC infused chocolate cake.  You had forgotten what I told you – all the sweets are full of pot!  You are going to be ok.  But things will seem weird for a while.”

Art by Jana Brike

Her voice was so gentle and calm that Lo felt transported out of her body to some ethereal place where she met the Brike.  The Brike are, according to Lola, small, beautiful, Alice-in-Wonderland-type creatures.  They are of no gender because there is only one gender.  At birth, they all look like girls.  They all have the same anatomy of girls, that is.  But when they begin to hit puberty, an odd thing happens to them – they develop tail-like structures at the top of their butt-crack, that is, right by their tailbone.  The growth begins as merely a small bump – like a wart or boil, or like their nipples just budding.  But then it continues to grow like a long flap of skin.  That’s how it is most of the time, but when these “girls” or creatures get sexually aroused, which is often, the flap of tail grows.  They get erections.  Their tails point in the air and then they copulate.  Usually one sits atop the back of the other, either cowgirl style or reverse cowgirl, letting the erect tail penetrate either the vagina or the anus.  The copulation is not for procreation purposes.  They procreate parthenogenically.  When they feel the need for reproduction, their “tail” grows to an enormous length – perhaps two feet in some – and enters their own vagina.  It is said to be the best sex they will ever experience.  The tail ejaculates and then, after a recovery period of about two hours, it is shed.  The “girl” goes back to being a-sexual as the baby gestates in her.  She dies in childbirth.  No exceptions.  The newborn Brike baby is then raised on Chimera Milk of the mystical Chimera Matron – a griffin sort or creature with four breasts hanging below that are ever-full and lactating.  Then the cycle begins again.

Art by Jana Brike

Lo was feeling not herself.

Gathering Griffin Milk

Tara recommended that Lo try some deep breathing exercises and a little meditation to ground her.  They sat on Tara’s bed, both naked, and as Lo looked at Tara, sitting in the lotus position, Tara transformed from the present-day host of a drug-infused kink party to a timeless goddess of Theravada or Tantric Buddhism.  She sat serenely in a landscape beyond time and space, infusing all living things with her beauty, grace, life, and love.

Tara

As Lo witnessed this, a change occurred in herself whereby she suddenly felt her entire being metamorphosize from flesh-and-blood into a porcelain statue.  She became timeless herself, but in a way that was beyond the vicissitudes of life.  She became still and immobile like stone.  Impervious to all things.  But, thereby, beyond pleasure and pain.  She did not like it.  She did not like it at all!

Mystical Tara

Lo as a statue, art by Boom Beach

She heard Tara speak to her, but without moving her lips.  It was mind-to-mind communication.  Tara encouragingly, sweetly whispered to her, “Let go of all illusions – of me, of yourself, of the world, of your mind.  Pleasure, pain, pure, impure, sacred, profane, divine, debased – these are all the same.”  The sound of her disembodied voice sparkled and glittered like the sound she heard before of the windchime in the breeze.

Fragile Lo, art by Boom Beach

Opening her eyes, she saw Tara suddenly split into many pieces that hovered in the air.  It was terrifying at first, but then Lo saw that this was just her illusion breaking apart.

Tara Goes to Pieces

The next thing she knew, she was being dropped off at home by Mr. Biggs, who, as she looked back at the car, appeared to be the fat, jolly Buddha known as Hotei, naked and cheerful behind the wheel.

Art of Lo and Tara by Rigs Usually Hidden Drawings

Chimeras

Tara led the lion right up to Lo in the center of the circus.  Lo was lying in the muddy dirt of the center ring.  The entire floor of the circus was dirt, but now, where Lo was, it had turned to mud from the copious amount of cum ejaculated by the elephant that had just copulated with Lo.  The viscus, warm, white jizz had spilled out of Lo’s cunt and created a sloppy mess right where Lo was recovering from her dazzling display of big dick penetration.  The elephant put its trunk in a bucket of water nearby and sprayed Lo down, showering her affectionately.  Lo struggled to get to her feet as a new drama unfolded.

With the elephant, the audience was on the edge of their seats wondering if Lo could take the massive pink missile.  And they were ecstatic to see Lo mounted successfully.  But now there was an ominous sense of foreboding under the big tent as everyone held their collective breath wondering if the lion would also mount Lo or if it would eat her – and not in the good way!

Tara stood, holding her whip, ready to smack the lion back into submission, but there was no need.  Apparently this lion had been trained since early age to take women as trophy lionesses.  It approached Lo and quickly, without any feline foreplay, mounted and fucked Lo from behind.  The audience was silent this time, afraid that any loud, enthusiastic encouragement might scare the lion into destroying his mate.  When it had reached climax, Lo realized why a lion’s pack is called a “pride,” since anyone who can handle that cock has to be full of pride, as was Lo.  She was also full of a lot more than that and it was dripping all around her in the ring as Tara led the satisfied animal away and Lo was left standing in the spotlight, soaking in the love of the audience.

Lo and the Lion

As Lo stood, she realized that she had worked up an incredible appetite.  All she could think of was food.

“Cartoon characters get hungry, I guess,” she thought to herself.

She looked at Tara, who was now walking towards her and she said, “Can we eat something?  I’m starved!”

Tara laughed and with the sound of her laugh, which struck Lo’s ears like the gentle, magical and musical cadence of a windchime in a gentle breeze, Lo slowly emerged back into flesh-and-blood.

“Why don’t you put your phone down?” said Tara, as if talking to a child.

Lo looked in her hands and saw her phone open to the “Danger Girl Dating” app.

She was naked on the bed.

Tara helped her up and asked, “Do you want your clothes?”

Lo heard the question.  She understood it, but it was difficult for her to form words.  She simply shook her head, ‘No.’

Art of Lo by Rigs Usually Hidden Drawings

Tara slowly led Lo down the stairs.  Lo was walking on two feet this time, not like on the way up.  All the guests looked up at the secret agent girl leading the naked and high girl to the living room.

Art of Lo as Leia by Rigs Usually Hidden Drawings

“Sit here,” said Tara to her docile, amused little love doll, assisting her into the large, comfy chair.  “I’ll be right back.  I’m just going to grab you some snacks.”  Off went Tara on her mission to grab some of the diced cheese cubes, crackers, and a little sparkling water for Lo.

Art of Lo as Leia by Rigs Usually Hidden Drawings

Sitting in the chair, zoning out, Lo saw Mr. Biggs across the room talking to a woman who was as large as, if not larger than, he!  She was dressed as Mrs. Roper from ‘Three’s Company,’ wearing nothing but a muumuu.  He saw Lo out of the corner of his eye.  (Apparently, he didn’t see her as a nude descending a staircase.)  He brought his new friend over to Lo and introduced them.  Lo couldn’t stand up.  It was all she could do to lift her arm and limply shake the woman’s hand.

“Nice to meet you.”  Forming words was difficult.

The woman smiled, while looking deeply into Lo’s eyes.  Lo was looking at the woman’s eyes, thinking about the Beatle’s song, “Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds.”  All she heard in her head was “the girl with kaleidoscope eyes.”  The sound looped around in her brain again and again.

Tara returned with cheese and crackers and literally had to feed Lo because Lo was unable to feed herself without making crumbs that fell into her naked lap.

Mr. Biggs apparently enjoyed the “show.”  He was staring intently at the feeding of Lo by Tara.

Mrs. Roper noticed this and before Lo knew what was happening, she found herself atop the large woman who was kneeling on the floor, naked, and lapping up Lo’s labia with her mouth.

Lo gets eaten out at a party

Whatever was happening to her, or being done to her, by the large woman upon whom she sat like on a hopper ball or bouncy ball, in Lo’s mind the woman morphed into a giant Cephalopoda of some undefined sort.  She was slippery and filling every hole all at once.  Lo slipped back into the “Danger Girl Dating” app and back into her “Catnip” alter-ego.

Krakin

The next thing she recalled was voices, seemingly from all directions, asking, “Is it ok if I touch you?” “May I feel you?” “Do you consent to being fucked by me?”

Unclear

Tara appeared in her trench coat and beret and said, “She cannot consent.  She’s tripping her face off on the desserts.”

The next thing she knew, Lo was in the bathtub, filled to the brim, with Tara, transformed into a cartoon as well, lying on top of her and an octopus or squid or something with tentacles lying on top of Tara, filling both her holes and both Lo’s holes at once.  It felt delightful as Lo reached around to squeeze Tara’s breasts.

Lo and Tara in the bath.

“What is happening?” asked Lo in her host’s ear.

Circus Freak

 

Lola at Party

Believe it or not, that’s when things began to get weird.  Lo was back at the pigsty, but instead of pigs, she was surrounded by circus animals.  It turned out that she, or her comic avatar, ‘Catnip,’ was to perform in the circus.  She did not know how she was to perform, but the ringmaster was barking orders at her.  Lo, who was on all fours in the slop, looked up and saw Tara dressed as the ringmaster – top hat, red sequin vest, red sequin pantsuit – and carrying a whip.

Tara

Tara was whipping Lo’s ass to get her out into the center ring.  Lo crawled on all fours, led by Mr. Biggs dressed as Jabba the Hutt.  In the center of the central ring of the large round tent was a circular stool or podium.  Biggs led Lo up onto the podium.  The crowd applauded loudly.  Lo was surrounded by hundreds of people – men, women, children – all eagerly anticipating the performance.  They seemed to know what was about to come, but Lo did not.

Tara Ringmaster

However, she got a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach when she saw over her shoulder Tara, the ringmaster, using her whip on the ass of a giant elephant, to get him out to where Lo was instructed to wait.

Tara Ringmistress

The crowd rose to their feet and screamed and hollered, eating popcorn and whooping it up.  The elephant was right behind Lo and, to her astonishment, getting very erect.  It put its front legs very gingerly on the stool and, incredibly gently, almost lovingly, nudged its enormous phallus up against Lo’s pussy.  It was so, dare I say, polite, that Lo found it endearing.  As scared as she was – and she was scared – she was also startled to find her inner thighs getting wet, and she could feel her pussy expanding to let in the massive elephantine cock.

Massive Cock Mount

The crowd wanted to see Lo bring the Brobdingnagian beast to a climax, but the prospect of this natural conclusion to the show terrified Lo because she had no prior experience of fornicating with any proboscidean lovers.  As she was contemplating this fact, she felt what could only be described as a cum cannon exploding between her legs.  She was thrust forward and felt a rocket-like boost shot aft.  A large white puddle collected around her knees and feet.  The crowd went crazy and Lo fell forward onto the muddy, dirt floor.  Looking up, she saw Tara ushering in a lion.

Danger Girl Dating

 

Danger Girl Dating App

 

In case you haven’t caught on by now, recreational drugs are not really part of Lo’s life.  She much prefers a French Martini, a Negroni, or a simple flute of Champagne to any drugs.  She claims that anything besides alcohol makes her anxious and feel “weird,” not in a good way.  So the amount of marijuana chocolate she ingested was far in excess of anything she ever had before.  Not to mention that Tara’s concoctions were highly concentrated and potent.

After Lo found out that she had inadvertently been drugged, she asked for a little time to herself.  As she tells it, Mr. Biggs and Tara both left her in Tara’s bedroom.  She took out her phone and called me, saying, “Daddy, I want more.”

I answered, “More what, Lo?”

She said that she wanted to go on a dating app and be in the dating scene again.

According to her, I said, “Lola, it’s a jungle out there.”  I warned her that people hooking up on the dating sites are animals.  But she was insistent.  She said she wanted to discover new things and she had found an app called “Danger Girl Dating.”  She downloaded it and created a profile, all while high as a kite.

Lo Left, Danger Girls center

Soon she was swiping left and swiping right, clicking ‘like’ and shooting heart emojis to men, women, and whomever.  But something stopped her in her tracks.

She suddenly found herself in the app.  I mean, in the app.

“Daddy,” she called to me, “I’ve been turned into a cartoon!”

Cartoon Lola

In the app, her cartoon avatar was named ‘Catnip.’

On her first ‘date’ she found herself dressed as a bride – I mean, if you call wearing a white veil, thigh-high white nylons, and long white gloves ‘dressed.’  She was leashed to a giant pig!  She quickly ascertained that she was betrothed to the pig and everyone she knew was attending the wedding!

Lola getting married

There was no escaping because the leash to which she was attached to the pig was fastened around her neck with a steel collar.

Apparently, I was the officiating heresiarch and after I pronounced them hog and wife, Lola was mounted by the pink, pot-bellied, cloven beast and fucked before the reception party! The pig got Lo on her back and went to town.  This pig was no Wilbur of Charlotte’s Web fame.  No, the hog Lo found in this interweb was far too heavy for her and she felt like she was going to die under the weight.

Talented pig

Suddenly, all the people at the reception also turned to pigs!  They were looking at Lola like they hadn’t mated in a year and she was, well, raw meat.  Each one wanted a go with her.  She was scared.  She could hardly handle her ‘husband’ pig.

Lola missionary style

Each boar had his way with her and Lo wished she had swiped right on a horse, dog, or goat instead of a pig.

Fresh Meat

At one point, Lo opened her eyes and saw that Mr. Bigg was sitting in a chair, pud in hand, Tara and a host of party guests were around the bed as naked Lo was holding her phone in one hand and diddling her bean with the other.

What could these pigs want?

Lo got up off the bed and crawled around on all fours like a pig or dog, her head waist high with the guests.  One of them called out, “What is that?” pointing at Lo’s bare bottom.

Tara approached Lo and said, “Um, looks like Mr. Biggs’ condom fell off inside you.”

Sure enough, there was a partially full condom dangling from Lo’s slit, hanging on like a hero of an action movie.  Lo reached back and found the condom.  She pulled it out of her twat and sniffed it.  Suddenly she was transported back to the sty with the pigs where she crawled naked through the mud and slop.

Marry in haste, repent at leisure.

Lola’s Lips are Sealed

 

“Lola,” called her sister as Lo was getting dressed, “no panties today.”  Robie sat in the bed and watch Lo as she was reaching into her underwear draw.  This request, or command, was not unusual for Robie to make.  Lo looked at her sister and then moved on to pulling out socks from her top drawer.  She chose white with a pattern of little pairs of red cherries.  She went to her closet and pulled down a white and green dress.  Her pigtails were already neatly tied with green bow ribbons.

“Come here,” said her sister.

Lo walked to the bed, carrying her clothes for the day.

Robie reached into the nightstand next to her side of the bed.  She pulled out a handful of wooden clothespins.  She kept a drawer full of them to spice up sex with her boyfriends and for personal use.  But this time she told Lo to stand before her.

“Spread your legs.”

Lo spread.

Robie took one clothespin at a time in her right hand.  With her left hand she squeezed Lo’s labia together, making the lips bulge, and then she applied the clothespin to the two tightly pressed lips together.  She did this a total of six times, causing tears to form in Lo’s eyes.  Between Lo’s legs a straight line of wooden clothespins hung down, compressing Lo’s vagina together.  Not that Lo needed this at all, but this was Robie’s punishment for Lo’s indiscretion of yesterday when she unconsciously moved her index finger to her pussy and stroked her smooth slit while the three guys fucking Robie looked on with intense interest.

“You are to wear these all day at school.  Only when you get home will you be allowed to remove them.  No.  You will come to me and beg me to remove them for you.  If they fall off, you replace them.  Immediately!”

“Yes, Robie,” said Lo obediently.  The pain was excruciating, but it did not outstrip the secret enjoyment of pleasing her older sister.

Lo slipped into her dress and walked to the kitchen to eat breakfast.  It hurt to walk.  It hurt to sit.  It hurt to stand up.

The pain between her legs while she rode the bus to school nearly made Lo pass out with every jarring bump.

At school she couldn’t concentrate at all.  Her entire mental focus was directed between her legs.  Occasionally, she dropped her right hand down below the desk and up between her legs and flitted her fingers across the tips of the clothespins, making them jiggle.  She was praying that none of them slipped off in the middle of class.

And then it was gym period.  There was absolutely no way she was going to go into the girls’ locker room, remove her dress and put on her tight, white shorts!  Even if she could do that without everyone seeing her clothespins, there was no way she could easily conceal them under the shorts, let alone play volleyball or badminton or whatever the day’s activities were.

 

She went to the gym teacher and said she wasn’t feeling well.  The gym teacher looked at her askance and sent her to the school nurse.

At the nurse’s office, she entered shyly and explained that she wasn’t up to playing in gym.  The nurse went through a series of questions: Stomachache?  Headache?  Fever?  To all of which, Lo responded, “No,” shaking her head and dangling her pigtails.  The nurse took her temperature.  Normal.  The nurse asked her to have a seat and, when Lo sat extremely gingerly on the hard, plastic chair, the nurse asked if the problem was “down there,” pointing between Lo’s legs.  Lo turned a bright red!

School Nurse

The nurse asked to lift up Lo’s dress.  Lo didn’t know what to say.  She acceded to the request.  When the nurse saw the row of wooden clothespins pinching Lo’s pussy lips together, she gasped in horror!  “What is this?!  Who did this to you?  Why are you wearing these?” she asked in rapid succession as she removed the clips.

“Lola, show me.”

Lo was speechless.  She could not turn in her beloved sister.  So she lied.  She said her mother told her to wear them to school.

“Why ever would she do that?” asked the nurse, alarmed, but trying to sound soothing for Lo.  The nurse reached into her drawer and pulled out some ointment.  She put on her rubber gloves and applied the ointment to Lo’s nether region, gently rubbing the moist, cooling gel into Lo’s labia.  Lo liked the feeling and liked the nurse.

Lo tried to speak, but she couldn’t.  She just shrugged her shoulders and asked the nurse to keep rubbing in the ointment.  “It feels good,” she said, totally unaware of how that sounded to the nurse.

The nurse stopped rubbing and told Lo to pull her dress back down, covering her triangle, as the nurse stepped out.  Of course she called the principal.  The administration of the school alerted the authorities.  The Department of Children and Family Services was called and within days a full-fledged investigation was underway.

For years, Lo though that the reason her older sister was sent off to boarding school in Europe was because her father didn’t like Robie’s “slutty” behavior with the boys.  She believed that Robie had been caught with a boy in the house.  She suspected it might be that they feared for Robie in some way.  But she didn’t know that it was because DCFS had discovered the source of Lo’s torment and the Department threatened to take Robie from the family and put her in foster care or a special psychiatric ward.  There was literally no other place for her to go in America to be outside the reach of the authorities and so her parents, in a last-ditch effort to keep Robie in the family, sent her to boarding school abroad, leaving Lo alone and bereft of her sister until, well, you know the rest.

Lola worships her sister Robie