nightwng2000

Musings X2

Feast for the New Ship’s Master

            Another work of art by ForbiddenFeast has provided me with another micro story to share outside the collection of stories and musings which I am still working on.  Time has been tight, so I’ve made only a few pages of headway, but I don’t want to rush it, despite the overall work coming from an amateur like me.  Still, having a beautiful image to work from helps get the juices flowing, even for these short musings which I happily share here on DA.

            Once again, a young boy in the mid-70s, becoming a teen by the 80s, I had some girls and women in Hollywood to be attracted to in TV and movies alike.  One which I was so attracted to (ok, as a kid and not having known her in person, I know it wasn’t actually love but a sort of young lust, but what I know now wasn’t what I believed back then) that I actually wrote her.  Not as a “fan”, but more as an attempt to become a pen pal, if not hoping for more.  She (or whoever actually responded) wrote back on copies of the same picture, so they were short.  She wouldn’t give her age back then, but I now know she is only a few months older than I am.

 

The Master’s Boat

            It was Vicki’s 18^th birthday a week ago.  Her mother had been captain of the ship they had lived on these last 8 years.  But the cruise line had been bought out and all other ships of the line had been decommissioned.  It had also been declared by the new owner to rename the remaining ship “The Penetrating Princess”.  An odd name, but ticket sales seemed to spike after the name change, tickets reserved as much as a year in advance. 

            After Vicki’s birthday party, her mother had informed her daughter that she was to be reassigned, temporarily hopefully, to assist in the decommission of the twenty other ships.  Vicki asked her mother why the other ships were being decommissioned with ticket sales booming but her mother had no answers.  As a birthday present, Vicki’s mother had informed her that as Vicki had served, albeit unofficially, as ship personnel and even learned the ins and outs of managing the ship, Vicki was to be granted rank and privileges as a second officer to the new captain, who was in fact the new owner of the company.  The next day, Vicki’s mother disembarked and reported for decommissioning duty.  That was a week ago now and Vicki hadn’t heard from her mother, though Vicki had sent messages over the week.

            Vicki had been receiving communiques from home office and responding to inventory and personnel change requests all day until she received the announcement that the ship’s new captain would be arriving in an hour.  With such short notice, Vicki scrambled to get personnel ready to meet the captain and to surrender full command to the new arrival.  She notified the first officer of her actions and the first officer, impressed with her due diligence, told Vicki to continue with the preparations.  Vicki detected some subtle hesitation on the part of the first officer, but merely put it down to the crew having to adjust to a new captain.

            The crew gathered in the main lobby, including lining along the main stairs and on the second floor lobby balcony.  She was always impressed with the crew and their promptness.  While there had been many instances over the years that led to a number conflicts, accidents, errors of judgement, and sometimes almost disastrous endings, the crew could still be trusted to perform their duties with a high degree of competency.  Relationships had developed, ended, and grown between individual members of the crew, and she had been a part of experiencing those relationships at one time or another.  She stood with the first officer, head cruise director, head purser, and chief medical officer at the end of the pathway leading from the gangway into the main lobby.

            Vicki watched as the new captain, stepping from the gangway, began inspecting each of the crew closely, in some cases hands-on closely as I would straighten a tie, rubbing against a breast as I did so, running my fingers through hair, turning crew around looking over uniforms and what lay underneath, groping the butts of the women with panty lines showing, and other tasks that crossed from professional inspection to my own pleasure, as if this was standard practice, which in the world I had created, it was completely normal.

            As I reached the end of the pathway, the first officer saluted and began to speak, referring to me as captain.  At this point, I interrupted and indicated that my title was Master, not captain.  I was Master of the ship and that was the only name they would know me by.  She started again, referring to me correctly as Master, and introduced each member of the officers and lastly introduced Vicki.  The rest of the crew were very beautiful and luscious, but as I came face to face with Vicki, memory of my past on Earth and how I was so attracted to the actress and my stupidity in how badly I acted towards her, came to my mind despite wanting to stay in character.  I stepped closer to her and paused only a foot away from her.  I did not reach up to grope or even caress her as I had done to the rest of the crew.  So real she was, standing in front of me, despite knowing this reality of what she actually was.  I looked in her eyes, looked at her hair, practically taking in mentally each and every hair position, and those lips… that twitch of a smile on her face that had driven me made episode after episode, the pain when her face took on sadness of the scene she played was just as strong as if she actually was frowning.  What had merely been childish lust so long ago back on Earth was now a building desire, not just lust but wanting to apologize to a character who would not know anything that I had done, wanting to be alone with her on this ship, to enjoy our time together for not just days but years.  I may never feel this way again, but the few seconds I stood there meant everything to me.

            Taking a quick breath to regather my thoughts, I took her right hand in my own and kissed it, telling her how I was honored to meet her, how I had met her mother, telling her that her mother was well and very busy and how her mother had asked me to apologize for not contacting her directly.  Of course, the truth was that her mother had been used in a number of ways once she reported to me and now she was in a container being loaded in the cargo bay for later use as I desired.  But Vicki would never know this.  Vicki’s voice stumbled a little as she appeared to be attracted to me as well.

            After a short speech to the crew, the women, except for Vicki, dispersed to their assigned stations and the passengers began coming aboard.  Many of these were actresses from the show playing parts of their characters, either recurring or one time parts.  I stood with Vicki as the passengers came through wanting their cabin assignments.  I made hands on greetings to a number of them, including a couple of women would be singers in the lounge for several nights.

            Over the next few days, while out to sea, I spent time with passengers on deck at the pools, bars, exercise rooms, and their cabins, pleasuring myself with each of them.  I also took pleasure in many of the crew in various ways.  But with Vicki, I would spend time with her, talking about variations of episodes from the TV show she was a part of.  The stories varied as the nature of this alternate version, having all female participants except for myself.  We also spoke about our growing relationship.  We spoke of what she hoped would be her future on board ship, and even hinted at the idea of a future with me as Master of both the ship… and her.  Despite my growing attraction for her, my future plans for her were not what she hoped they would be, though I didn’t share with her those plans.

            The physical intimacy between Vicki and I finally reached a crescendo on the sixth night as we danced closely in the lounge to slow, romantic music.  We held our bodies close together, looking in each other’s eyes as we danced.  The motion of our closely dancing bodies and the eye contact led to a long passionate kiss as we danced.  We left the lounge shortly after and in my suite we made love together, clearly her first time and it was with passion over the next few hours that we enjoyed each other in numerous ways.  Afterwards, we cuddled together and talked more about the future she wanted with me and I played along, not entirely lying as a future scenario with her did lead to a version of our living together aboard ship as Master and Mistress of the ship.

            The next day, I sent Vicki to work some of her administrative duties while I sought out the first officer.  As I had my way with her, using her to pleasure myself in several ways, I outlined what I wanted that night, the last night the ship would be out of port, tomorrow ending this particular trip.  The first officer, panting from ecstasy, confirmed her understanding.  Several hours later, after dismissing the first officer to carry out her orders, I walked around the ship pleasuring myself with crew and passengers again, recognizing that a “day” was much longer than a real day as I could play with each of my playthings for hours on end and not get closer to night until I was ready.  Tonight would be an incredible ending to this cruise.

            Eventually, I allow the afternoon to arrive and Vicki and I spend some time in the swimming pool pleasuring each other, then we wash each other off in the shower.  I instruct her to dress in a revealing light blue dress and we walk around the ship, ending up in the main dining area, several hours before dinner.  I lead her into the galley where we stand watching preparations for the final dinner of the trip.  We watch as various dishes are in early preparation based on requests by passengers in advance.  I stand behind Vicki, caressing her shoulders and arms, enjoying the feel of her skin.  She leans her head back a little to rest on my chest and I feel her butt move back a bit to make contact with my crotch.  The smells of food and my touch have a pleasurable affect on her obviously and she is both content and a little turned on.  I lean down and kiss her on the neck and she responds by first moaning then turning around and kissing me passionately on the lips. 

            After a few moments we break the kiss and someone lays a hand on her shoulder.  As she turns around, she comes face to face with her mother, who is nude except for a collar which has a hook dangling from the front.  Vicki is a little taken aback and confused as her mother kisses her on the lips and, standing back, indicates a large table with wrist and angle cuffs.  The table is clearly designed to be raised or lowered at either end to a vertical position.  Vicki stares dumbfounded first at the table then her mother then back to me.  She is unsure how to react at the moment or what she is to do.  Holding her gently by both arms, I direct her over to the table and she moves as if in a trance.  As her mother is now head slave, she has been granted the ability to make others she is ordered to kiss more submissive, a power which I am immune to of course. 

            Vicki obeys the indicated commands to sit on the table and swing her legs up so that her mother can strap down her ankles.  Vicki looks back up to me with those beautiful eyes and slightly downturned corners of her luscious lips, a tear or two running down her cheek.  Tears which I kiss away as she quietly begs for forgiveness for whatever she had done to be punished.  But I tell her that this isn’t a punishment and is, in fact, a celebration of our love for one another.  As she will be devoured by me at the Master’s table in celebration of the new voyages of The Penetrating Princess.  She will be giving of herself in every way possible towards the enjoyment of those future voyages and should feel honored to be chosen for this.  She looks towards her mother who looks back at her and smiles, nodding in agreement Vicki’s importance to the celebration.  The tears stop and a smile begins to form on her lips, and not a forced smile either as she recognizes that I really am treating her as a special part of this celebration and will be pleased to feed on her delicious meat that I adore and desire so badly.  She kisses me again passionately and lies back, allowing me to strap her wrists down.  She looks up, making her neck easily accessible.

            While Vicki’s mother kneels before me and services my pleasure, I watch the ship’s butcher sever Vicki’s head from her body, her eyes only slightly rolling upwards and the smile on her lips slightly fading, yet still a crook of a smile on the right side.  The butcher hands the head to me and I hold it close, the incredibly beautiful eyes still partially visible and I run my fingers through her soft hair.  I watch as the butcher undresses Vicki’s body, a body I had become thoroughly intimate with, knowing every freckle, every pore, every goosepimple, every curve that my hands, lips, tongue, and other parts I could touch her with could become familiar with.

            Once the clothes were removed, the table was turned with her feet at the top so the remaining cherry juice could be drained quicker.  Vicki had a category one body so there were no internal organs, but she had a skeleton, allowing for rib meat while the breasts were soft delicious meat throughout.  The butcher performed her acts of high quality cutting and removal of internal meat while leaving a large outer meat shell that we could enjoy cutting into at the table as we so chose.  The outer body was as delicious to look at as it was to eat, and therefore made for a great centerpiece until the internal meat had been eaten.  The meat was then cooked in its own meat juices for several hours.  During that time, I played with my head slave, Vicki’s mother, until it was time for us to attend dinner.    Vicki’s head was nearby the entire time and I lusted after it though I did not play with it. 

            At my table, I placed Vicki’s head in front of my plate, facing me.  Her mother knelt beside me, her head down in supplication.  At the table were other starring actresses who would also feast on most of Vicki’s succulent meat.  The waitresses and chef’s brought the large platter of cooked meat to the table, placing it in the center.  While I enjoyed different parts of her, I made certain that the breasts and crotch steak was mine to devour and I enjoyed the flavor of both succulent morsels.  Her butt I fed to her mother, especially the entry hole.  She ate it with gusto, showing no signs of disgust or displeasure.

            Although I played more with the passengers and crew the rest of the night and into mid-day the next day, Vicki’s head was always nearby and from time to time I would just sit and look at it, into her eyes and run my fingers through her hair, even kissing those lips which stayed fresh, soft, and moist to the touch.  Eventually, I decided the time had come to end the scenario and with the head crew I watched passengers disembark.  I knew there were future scenarios to be run with The Penetrating Princess, including with a return of Vicki.  There was no sadness on my part at the end of the scenario, as there never is because I can always redo and revise at will.  Even so, before I moved on to the next scenario of my eternal pleasure voyage, I looked into the eyes of Vicki’s head, ran my fingers through her hair, and kissed those lips one more time.

Virgin Vengeance Feast

   Although I was a young teenager when the movie The Last American Virgin came out, I still had the opportunity to watch this rater R cult classic.  Making for a more interesting circumstance, I had a rough relationship during this period, making for some rather heightened anger issues to surface as I watched this movie.  The lead actress was incredibly sexy and went on to a few other movies I liked, but none had the negative impact that this movie and her character had on me.  The betrayal without apparent consequences fueled my irrational anger at the circumstances in this movie.  Needless to say, there have been plenty of fantasies which involved serious retribution against the character, Karen.

As I began perusing the internet in later years, I came across DeviantArt and artists such as ForbiddenFeast (I don't know how to insert the small icon and link to their DA page, sorry), who did excellent work putting an image together for me to build a short story around.  .  With the potential of commissions, I decided that Karen should be the first commission request and I ould develop a short, short story surrounding it.  Most of my short stories are around 50 pages, so this single setting event fits best in a Musings section which I decided I’ll post on my own DA journal page exclusively.  All my stories are written as if I write them in journals, just so you understand the context.  The scenario I chose for this takes place shortly after I, the betrayed character, drive away immediately after leaving Karen’s home.after the discovery of the betrayal.  Although the movie was a drama, I think I’ll toss in a bit of fantasy elements as that was included in the commission.  And my usual weirdness takes a few steps in as well, so be prepared for something that wouldn’t have occurred in the movie.  I’ve even played through part of the movie, with me taking on the relevant male roles as needed, just to get into the spirit.

The Last American Virgin – The Fantasy Extended Ending

I’d arrived at my new mansion a few minutes ago after driving around for a few hours (well, really only a few minutes, but hours will have passed since I’d left the kitchen of that bitch).  I was standing at the fireplace, still seething over the events that had occurred a few hours ago.  The mansion understood.  It was automatic, desiring to make me happy again, by whatever means necessary.  And with Jake in control, that meant many options.  I had been greeted at the door by her, but not her.  Karen.  The I wanted to wrap my fingers around the troat of.  The one I wanted to beat to a pulp.  After all I had done for her, even though I hadn’t really expected things to work out in my favor, at least it would have been nice if she hadn’t so blatantly betrayed and used me.

But this wasn’t the girl I had left in the kitchen, kissing her girlfriend.  As pleasurable as it was to watch, I had to be angry at the betrayal that had been part of the story.  This was a duplicate, a clone, prepared by the mansion as part of the attempt calm me, satisfy me.  She met me at the door, her head down, the look on her face one of submission, one of abject pleading for forgiveness, her demeanor prepared for any reaction I had.  As I entered, I closed the door behind me an walked towards her.  She backed up against the wall and I pressed into her, the heat of my anger making her shudder slightly.  She whispered an apology and indicated that dinner would be ready in half an hour.  She looked up at my face, fear spreading across her own face at the fury on mine.  She did not try to leave or defend herself if I struck out at her.  And so much I wanted to find a release for my anger.

Instead of striking out, I turned and walked, fist clinched, into the living room and stood in front of the burning fireplace.  There I stood for minutes on end, or so it seemed.  Shortly, I hear the padding of bare feet behind me and a whispered voice of Karen letting me know that dinner was ready.  I turned towards her and approached, staring into her eyes, still with an outraged look on my face.  She looked down but did not try to retreat.  I reached up to her and held her face, her soft cheek warm to my touch.  She apologized again and again, a tear rolling down her face.  She swears that unlike her “sister”, she would never have betrayed me.  That I am her world, to do with as I pleased.  I kissed her lightly on the lips, my anger still palpable but not directed at her specifically.  After a few seconds of kissing, I lead her to the dining room.

The dining table is laid out in banquet style, but only two places are set.  My own place is at the head of the table and a second place is set next to me on one side around the corner of the table.  To the two o’clock placement from my plate lies Karen’s original head, her now open white eyes staring in my direction but seeing the oblivion that exists inside the remains of her brain.  The rest of her naked body laid out upon the table, carved in preparation for the feast I am about to gorge myself on.  The thick sections clearly baked to perfection like succulent country ham, her dismembered body covered in the sweet juices she was basted in.

Karen’s replacement steps to one side and begins moving a container on wheels to the placement setting across from her own.  The container’s boundaries are not visible and yet are there keeping its occupant inside with no difficulty.  The boundary is not a physical material such as glass but an almost invisible electrostatic barrier.  And though on Earth “paranormal” entities such as ghosts or demons are not real, my wonderful Jake provides the needed extra ambiance to make the scenario appear all the more real by placing a ghost-like image of the original Karen inside the container.  The image looks at me with a mix of sadness, remorse, and perhaps even outrage tucked deep away.  If there is truly regret within that energy entity that remains of her original self, then it only exists because of her current condition.  Were she still alive, still out among the world that help to make her the way she was, she would not feel one iota of regret and, perhaps, even feeling willing to repeat such an act upon another fool to fall for her if the opportunity presented itself.

I stand behind my seat, staring at the apparition, while my new loving Karen walks around me and sits upon her own seat at the table.  The apparition does not move or react, as if frozen in the moment, her only thoughts appearing upon her face.  I then move to sit down in my own seat and momentarily look to the physical head of the original Karen.  Those still very inviting lips, glistening with the cooking juices, are in a neutral line, though I detect a slight downturn at the corners.  I reach up with my closest hand and rub my thumb gently across those lips.  These are the lips I kissed in hopes of love and commitment.  The lips of one I gave my heart to in aid when she needed it.  The lips who smiled at me in betrayal only a few hours ago.  Not the  lips that I kissed shortly before entering the dining room.  Not the lips I would kiss and caress later this evening and forever more.

My new Karen reaches out and takes the carving knife and carving fork in hand and slices the luscious left breast, with the pert puffy nipple, and places the meat on my plate.  She then serves me some of the potatoes and other vegetables from among the other food on the table.  After serving me, including pouring a glass of sweet tea for me (I never could get the hang  of enjoying alcohol in any form, even wine or champagne), she carves meat from the back of one leg and places it on her own plate along with some vegetables for herself.

   We begin eating our meal, no words spoken between us.  I eat both breasts the cunt steak, and both cheeks.  The new Karen devours the rest except for hands and feet.  We also finish off the rest of the potatoes and vegetables.  The meat is juicy and I savor each bite, looking up at the apparition seeing the look on her face as we devour her physical body.  Her lack of tears only seems to be due to a lack of physical nature to her.  I hold up one breast, the left one with the delicious puffy nipple and suck at that nipple, drawing forth the meat juices within, licking the nipple which actually grows hard between my teeth.  I hear the new Karen moan beside me as she watches me suck at the nipple, clearly wishing it were her own nipple being sucked on.  Biting off the entire nipple, I rolled the hard nub inside my mouth, then chewed it into tiny bits, followed by the reast of the breast meat.

The cunt steak was also juicy, a combination of cum and meat juices flowing from it.  The lips were still soft and I licked at the space between them, the new Karen actually arching her back imagining my licking at her own pussy lips.  All the while the apparition watched, her hands opening and closing into fists, a scowl building on her face as if I alone had committed a wrong, her own responsibility in these affairs completely that of an innocent party.  But she could not voice her opinion and it only infuriated her all the more.  She could not even loo away or close her eyes.  She had to endure what she was forced to witness, just as she deserved.  

The new Karen and I finished our meal and, standing from the table, together pushed the container with the apparition of the original Karen into the den where other containers, like large trophy cases, were situated throughout, each containing female characters much like Karen who had betrayed relationships, especially as teenagers in various stories.  These unmoving apparitions held angry facial expressions, aware of their surroundings and what was happening around them but anable to interact, to move from their current position or encapsulation.  We place her off to one side, facing the center of the room and the new Karen, the only Karen that matters to any degree to me now, follows me to the center of the room, in full view of the trapped apparitions.

Karen looks up at me longingly, and I reach up holding each side of her face with both hands and pull her close for a log, passionate kiss.  She responds both with a kiss in return as well as putting both arms around me and holding tight.  Stepping forward, I rub my crotch against her naked crotch flesh and she presses in farther, rubbing against me.  And there, among the forest of betrayers, the remains of the originals who have been the inspiration for so many who felt betrayal of others was just a part of growing up, I made love to another replacement, a replacement who was now mine in mind and body, while their apparition of what would have been a soul look on.  So many others have I touched here in front of their original selves, tasting of Karen, having her suck my cock and spread her inviting legs to provide deep access to every orifice, becoming forever mine in ways the original never would have.  And, as we partook of every inch of each other, the other replacements joined us in the center of the room where an orgy to welcome the newest replacement had become and would last for days to come.

Book I

Up next is a ancient history/fantasy scenario taking place in an ancient Roman city of power where I'll purchase a slave warrior woman.  As we travel across the land, the warrior slave and I will battle Amazon tribes, conquer cities, do a little dungeon crawl, and I'll even morph into a creature or two take on some of our enemies as we battle to tame, and eventually take over, the ancient world.  This will be a series which should span several books.

A sci fi series follows the fantasy with a lusty crew, a rather small but powerful ship, an interesting way to have a large crew on a small ship, space pirate fighting, exploring and conquering new worlds, and generally having one heck of a good time!  (Did I mention sci fi is my FAVORITE genre?)

And finally the dark drama series.  This one is more difficult as you read the beginning of the books about my views about fiction and reality not being the same.  This is difficult because the setting is similar to a "real world", like a crime/police drama.  So it deals with fictional acts, in an alternate world where crime, committed by me if they knew, was acceptable but crime committed by others, as well as accusations made against my crimes, is bad and... dealt with in what mockingly is referred to as court.  This isn't the funny parody but the dark parody of what one would expect things to actually be like.  Still, I want to have a bit of dark pleasure beyond the horror genre, and a dark drama like this can let me do this.  I just have to make sure the reader and others KNOW that the contents are entirely fictional and the real world does NOT operate in this manner.

Book II and beyond.

While three genres have a series design, the horror and reunion genres don't.

A couple of horror stories include a cheerleader hunt.  A nice little horror story of captured cheerleaders set loose on a deserted island, hunt by me in various ways, some not quite so normal.

And, of course, what's a horror genre without the classic camp by the lake filled with sorority girls all waiting to be massacred by an evil killer?

Another class reunion story, this time with my second girlfriend.  This one also did not end well because I took the word of some supposed friends and broke up with her.  Time to fix that one too.  I see some oil wrestling for her and some other students and a bit of walking into my future college life to have some play time with her and some of the women from my college days.  A good time to make up a sorority house on our fictional campus.

Later reunion stories to include some past co-workers and some situations that would have made for some interesting alternative history for me.  Sometimes, history needs a little rewriting, and my ship makes it all possible.

In book I, so far I have 2 short stories completed as well as 2 "musing" intermissions.

Story 1:
Family Reunion

I've brought into us a version of my girlfriend, her sister, and my girlfriend's 3 daughters and her sister's 1 daughter.  As the "reality" is of the creation provided by the ultra advanced computer, Jake, whose female avatar makes an appearance in this story as well, all the characters are 18 years old, the youngest any creation can be.

There is a great deal of sexual intimacy, a little revision on real world events with the sister and my girlfriend, some very interesting torture room session, and an even more fantastical family barbecue with sex, shrunken women, and a good deal of delicious vore.

Spider In The Mall

This is the first horror story with my body manipulation as a form of very tall humanoid spider.  A nice ten floor mall forms the setting for this sex and violence filled story, complete with some interesting vore elements and an army of tiny women.  It may not be the stuff of horror novels or movies, but if you use your imagination, you'll have a few bad dreams.

In Book II:
I shifted a reunion story here instead of filling Book I with reunion stories then placing genres separated into each following book.  This gives a little diversity and doesn't make it seem too repetitive.

Class Reunion I

This involves a revision of personal history with my first girlfriend.  Of course, in the scenarios, we're 18 years old, but I can still use the setting of the school that we attended.  In the first part of this story, I finally make up for one of the most embarrassing parts of our relationship as kids.  An event that probably had the negative impact on our real world relationship is now bringing us together the right way.  After this, its cooking class time with a shrunken meal and an interesting beverage dispenser.  From there, it's a little torture session with one of the female adults from out past and, finally, off to the bedroom for the first of our first times together.  Ah, the power of the "do over"... and over... and over... and over...