"Oh good," Koontz said. "So which would you like? You can have any of the girls here. Even Physalia should you desire." He glanced up at the statuesque girl behind him. "You might not like her, though. She's a little rough in bed." He chuckled, a sound like noxious gas bubbling up through a mire.

The tall girl in black latex smiled, if it could be described as such. Donald felt icicles grow on his eyelashes just from looking at her.

"We'll get the business out of the way first, if that's okay with you," Donald said.

"As you wish," Koontz said.

"I like the way you do business," Rich said, glancing at the girls on either side of them. "Not so effective on the ladies, though, I'd wager."

"You'd be surprised," Koontz smiled. "My girls are very talented."

The brunette stood up to collect Rich's empty glass. As she did so she turned to him and mimicked a lapping motion with her tongue. The pink organ flickered back and forth as fast as a snake's.

"I see," Rich said.

"Maybe you'd like to borrow them sometime," Koontz said. "I've found them to be very persuasive when dealing with stubborn people in authority."

"I'll keep it in mind," Rich said.

An image of old Mrs. Jones, their vice principal, her face contorted in ecstasy as the brunette lapped between her legs, entered Donald's mind. It was unspeakably gross, but Donald was thankful for it. He could do with an arousal killer about now. The redhead had put a warm hand on his thigh and was softly blowing in his ear.

"Right, business," Rich said, jumping up out of the sofa. He liked to stand up when giving his pitches. It gave him more room to get animated.

The pitch was familiar to Donald. They'd already rehearsed it many times in practice. They had the market; Koontz had the product. Between them they could make a lot of dough carving up the college stoner market. Donald zoned out Rich's voice and focused on the rest of the room.

Who or what were the possible threats?

The girl behind Koontz, the one dressed as a dominatrix to satisfy any kinkier desires. Except she wasn't. She was his bodyguard and woe betide Donald and Rich if they were dumb enough to try anything stupid. That was clear to Donald.

Koontz himself. Forget the dressing gown, rose-tinted spectacles and those stupid slippers. This was a man with a well-oiled machine between his ears.

The brunette with the long braids returned and took Rich's place on the sofa. She squeezed up against Donald until he was sandwiched between the hot bodies of both girls. The brunette put her arm around his shoulder and twirled his hair.

Rich continued with his pitch. Koontz asked for details: substances, quantities, prices. Koontz wasn't an easy man to read, but Donald thought he seemed interested. More importantly he seemed satisfied they weren't just a pair of flaky college punks.

The girls on either side of Donald were getting him very aroused. The brunette turned her body so her breasts were pressed up against his arm. Her lips lightly brushed against his cheek. The redhead had a hand in Donald's crotch and was toying with his balls. She picked up his hand and carried it to her own crotch. He felt the heat and moistness of her sex between the palm of his hand and his cock jumped to attention.

Not yet, Donald thought. Business first. Afterwards he'd take Koontz up on his offer and bang the redhead, or the brunette, or maybe even both.

But not here. He wanted somewhere private.

"So you want to deal for me?" Koontz said, still grinning like a toad stoned on ecstasy.

"We were thinking more along the lines of a partnership," Rich said. "Fifty-fifty."

This was the key moment. What would Koontz do? Would he bite or would he throw them out for having the affront to think that they, a couple of college punks, could even dare to ask for an even split.

Koontz chuckled. "You've got some balls, college boy," he said. "It is a most tempting prospect, however. Colleges are such fertile grounds, both for opportunity and future influence. Diona, what do you think?"

Koontz surprised Donald by turning to ask the blonde girl on the bed.

She was sitting at the edge of the bed now, her green eyes bright as she studied Rich.

"What would you like?" Koontz asked.

Who was she? Donald thought. He'd thought she was just another hooker, another sweet little distraction, but could she have been performing a similar role to him, quietly observing the other party, weighing them up?

"I want to wrap him up in my pussy and squeeze out all his spunk," Diona said.

Or maybe not, Donald smiled to himself. Another of Koontz's little games.

Rich smiled too. "That's nice, sweetie," he said. "Now go back to your magic pixie dust and let the men finish their business talk."

The blonde girl smiled at Koontz. Koontz smiled back at her. Even the ice queen in black latex smiled. Everyone was all smiles.

The blonde girl opened her legs and her pussy lips expanded and shot out until they closed around Rich like the shell of a clam, or maybe the jaws of a Venus flytrap. Rich was so stunned he didn't react fast enough to move away before the lips enfolded him. No, he never had a chance to move; it all happened far too quickly.

Shocked, Donald tried to jump off the sofa. His legs refused to obey his instructions. The sofa was soft and comfortable; the girls' bodies on either side of him were soft and comfortable. They pressed close to him, their full breasts rubbing against his arms. Their soft lips brushed against his neck, his cheeks, his lips. They blew softly in his ear and whispered seductive words that wormed into his mind and tethered him to the sofa. Both had a hand in his crotch now, long fingers tickling through his hairs like static electricity while the other stroked up and down his growing erection with feather-light caresses. As much as he wanted to get up, his body rebelled, refusing to leave their pleasurable attentions.

He struggled to make sense of what he saw. It was like seeing a magnified close-up of a pussy projected onto the wall of an underground sex club. He could see with great detail the plush, hairless folds of her labia. They were tightly shut, a gate to unknowable pleasures, the pink treasures sealed within, showing only a single smooth canyon.

This was no projection, though, or a case of smoke and mirrors. Rich was between those fleshy lips. His head was the only part of his body that remained visible. It stuck out somewhere near the top, not far from where the clitoris would be obscured by its fleshy hood on a normal female body. Rich currently wore an expression of shock and surprise, as if he was still trying to come to turns with what had happened.

"Mmm, it feels so good when they squirm," the blonde on the bed, Diona, sighed.

Her body, still the same size as before, flexed and her vaginal lips retracted, pulling Donald between her legs. Diona rocked on the bed, her full breasts swaying back and forth, just as if Rich was standing between her legs and fucking him. In a way he was, but he wasn't just inside her pussy, he was really inside her pussy. His whole body was wrapped in a thick layer of pink flesh that rippled and undulated around him.

Rich's expression of shock vanished. His eyes rolled up and his mouth fell open. He emitted a moan, but it was more of pleasure than pain.

"You can't escape me now," Diona said. "You're all wrapped up in my pussy and I'm going to squeeze and squeeze."

She closed her eyes and moaned loudly. Her cheeks were flushed red. Her dusky brown nipples stood up straight from her chest as they rocked back and forth with her body. Donald heard wet squishing sounds and her giant pussy started to swell and puff up. Beads of moisture appeared in the soft crevice between her lips. The pungent aroma of her sex filled the room, so strong it felt to Donald as if his head was being smothered between a woman's thighs.

He had to get out of here, Donald thought. Something very wrong was taking place.

He still couldn't move. The two girls on either side of him had worked some kind of hypnosis on his body. He thought there might be a chance when the redhead got up and walked over to the bed. It was only a faint glimmer of a hope and the other girl extinguished it as she tipped his head towards hers and crushed her full lips against his in a kiss.

Chiro released him from the kiss and Donald lolled back against the sofa. His brain felt scrambled. Concentrate. He couldn't. The thick stench of sex was everywhere. It permeated his lungs and overwhelmed him. His cock was swollen and ached with the need for sensation. He watched as Mille rubbed a hand along the smooth pink canyon of Diona's pussy and it came away dripping with steaming juices.

"You won't want to miss this," Chiro whispered in his ear.

Focus. He needed to focus. This was Koontz's little game. He had to focus and find a way out of here. He had to...

Mille wrapped a hand covered in Diona's vaginal juices around Donald's cock and began to pump up and down.

Donald exhaled with a loud gasp, overcome by the sensation of her hand stroking up and down his erection. The liquid covering her hand was warm and slippery like scented oil.

"If you think this is good, imagine what it feels like for your friend," Mille whispered as she pumped his cock. "Diona has him all wrapped up in the silken folds of her pussy. Her soft flesh is rubbing her juices into every intimate part of his body."

Rich vented a loud groan. Donald recognized both the sound and the expression on his friend's face from that time they'd shared a hooker. He'd just come, explosively.

"Yes," Diona hissed. "Spray your seed into my warm folds."

She rocked her body back and forth with greater vigor. The bed swayed and bucked beneath her as the oversized labia of her pussy throbbed and pulsed with obscene motion. The wet sounds grew louder. Her juices oozed out between her lips and dripped onto the floor.

Rich was completely gone. Lost in a world of incalculable pleasures. His eyes were shut and he moaned and sighed in pleasure.

Mille's wet hand crawled down to Donald's balls and he squirmed as she played with them. She massaged the fluids into his sac and he felt a warm tingling glow spread up into his body. She grabbed them a little more tightly and pumped them, like squeezing a sponge ball. It didn't hurt and every time she relaxed her grip his balls expanded to fill her hand. She kept pumping and his balls kept growing in volume until they felt as large as tennis balls and the skin of his sac was stretched and swollen. He writhed and squirmed; wanting, desperately needing the pressure to be alleviated.

"Not too much," Chiro warned.

"Do they feel uncomfortable?" Mille whispered. "Let me suck out some of that tension."

She bent her head down into his lap. He felt her breath against the head of his cock. It was warm-no it was hot, hot like fire, hot like boiling water, hot like raw unbridled passion. She teased him with her breath, letting the warm air swirl and flow over the naked folds of his shaft. Her sumptuous lips were close enough to brush against him. She lapped at his urethral opening with the tip of her tongue.

Rich gave another low moan.

"Mmm, yes," Diona urged as she squeezed her breasts. "Spurt all your spunk inside me."

She'd made Rich come again? Donald thought. So soon?

"You can feel what her juices are doing when rubbed into just your cock and balls," Chiro whispered in his ear. "Imagine what it would feel like to soak your whole body in them, to have them rubbed into every inch of your flesh. Her pussy will squeeze every drop of cum from your friend's body and keep squeezing until there's nothing left of him at all."

"Why?" Donald asked.

Mille kissed the head of his cock with lips far too warm to belong to any human. She bobbed her head down sharply and Donald gasped as those sizzling lips slipped all the way down his shaft and his cock thrust up into the sultry heat of her mouth.

"Your proposal interests me," Koontz said, watching the proceedings with his fat toad smile, "but I only need one of you. I find obedience is far easier to obtain if first you make an example."

Rich's head lolled back. His eyes turned inward, trapped in some inner universe of bliss while Diona sighed loudly on the bed.

Mille bobbed her head up and down on Donald's cock. She squeezed the shaft between her lips like a prize morsel of food.

"Your friend is a little too flashy for my tastes," Koontz continued. "It brings the wrong kind of attention."

"It's a kindness," Chiro whispered in his ear. "After experiencing one of Diona's whole body fucks all other pleasures become gray and joyless."

Mille bobbed her head up and down in Donald's lap faster and faster. Her boiling tongue slithered round his cock like a snake made of molten latex. Trapped between their warm bodies, Donald squirmed and shuddered with forced pleasure.

"But you," Koontz continued, "you I think I can do business with. You're cautious and you study each situation carefully. I think you'll serve me very well indeed."

Donald put a hand on Mille's head and was surprised to feel something hard and pointed there.

Horns. The girl had horns.

He looked down and saw two black points protruding from her temples. Her skin had darkened to a shade of deep, blood red. Further down and he was shocked to see she had a tail. Narrow and terminating in a devil's point, it whipped back and forth above the taut swell of her ass in a lust-fuelled frenzy.

What in the hell were they?

Her mouth was irresistible. It was hot and moist like a personal sauna for his cock. The suction was incredible. He felt it all the way through the root of his cock and even in his balls.

Fuck, he couldn't hold out any longer.

Donald groaned loudly and his hips pistoned up of their own accord. At the same time she gripped his balls and squeezed. Donald writhed in uncontrollable ecstasy as he pumped wave after wave of semen into her boiling hot mouth. He wasn't sure it would end. She kept sucking and sucking until she sucked out every last drop and his balls felt as slack and empty as a pair of deflated balloons.

The worst, the part that truly terrified him, was he wasn't even sure she'd stop, that she'd turn that irresistible suction deeper on his body, drawing out his blood, his marrow, his soft tissues...

...his soul?

She stopped though. She released his cock, gave the tip a sweet kiss and sat back up, her warm body leaning against Donald.

Donald lay back on the sofa. His breath came in ragged gasps. He felt like he'd been engaged in some kind of violent physical activity. His heart rattled in his chest like a snare drum.

He looked over at the bed. The blonde lay flat, her body giving off the warm glow from the aftermath of sex or some other similar form of complete satiation. Her pussy was no longer swollen up to monstrous proportions. Instead it had retracted down until it looked no different from a normal girl's pussy. As Donald watched she sighed and opened her legs. A thick stream of milky white cum bubbled out and formed a pool beneath her dripping pussy. Of Rich there was no sign apart from his fancy white-framed sunglasses lying on the bed between her legs.

"About this deal," Koontz said, "fifty-fifty is a little too generous, wouldn't you agree."

Mille turned Donald's head so he faced her. Her eyes were pure black, completely devoid of any trace of warmth or a soul. She smiled and opened her mouth to reveal the strands of creamy-white cum she'd swallowed.

His creamy-white cum.

"I have your taste," she whispered. "I can find you anywhere."

Even though the room was warm, even though Donald was hot from the aftermath of orgasm, even though he was sandwiched between two hot bodies, at that moment he felt a sudden chill as if he'd suddenly been dunked in the Arctic Ocean.

"What would you say to ten per cent," Koontz said, grinning like a toad squatting atop a mountain of juicy fat flies.

Donald said yes. He couldn't really see any other alternative.

The Night Doyle Lowry Saw a Terrible Thing and was Sucked into a Quagmire of Sensual Depravity Doyle Lowry had gone to the outskirts of Grimpen at 2 a.m. on a chilly Tuesday night to see what he could thieve. There was no particular reason for him to choose this Tuesday. He could have come looking on Monday, or maybe Wednesday, but no, it was his misfortune to pick this particular Tuesday.

The Stapleville business park was a minty-new technology park. Supposedly it was to encourage new businesses to the area so they could create more jobs for the city, more jobs for people like Doyle. Doyle knew that was shite. This was a business park for new hi-tech firms. The only jobs here were for silver-spoon university grads. People like Doyle didn't go to university. No-one on The Estate did. The whole estate might as well have been on the moon when it came to integration with the rest of 'modern' Britain.

Doyle hadn't started out that way. His mom had drummed into him the importance of education. Work hard at school otherwise you'll never escape The Estate, she'd told him. Doyle had gone to school with the best intentions. It hadn't lasted long. He'd soon caught on no-one gave a shit. Baskerton School serviced The Estate. It was the roughest school in the city, maybe the country. The staff were all young teachers that regarded their postings there as a brief and unpleasant tour of duty to be suffered before moving on to nice orderly schools down in the Home Counties. They didn't want to be there. Doyle didn't want to be there.

He hadn't set out to thieve either. If he could have got by without thieving he would have. But there was never enough money, especially now he had to pay the CSA for his son, Kingsley. The older generation didn't understand. Life was hard nowadays. It was impossible for people like Doyle to keep their heads above water through normal means. He didn't do it often and never to other people on The Estate. He wasn't out-of-control junkie scum. He just had to do a little thieving now and again, just enough to get his head above water, just enough to be able to grab a breath.

It was the same for everyone. Doyle was here because Fat Bruce Rathbone had told him the security firm watching Stapleville at nights had been cutting costs. They told the nice new businesses of Stapleville they would provide round-the-clock security. In reality 'round-the-clock security' was a sign warning trespassers about nonexistent dogs. Doyle knew all this because Fat Bruce Rathbone had told him down the pub, and Fat Bruce Rathbone knew all this because he used to work for the security firm... until they'd laid him off without warning.

And that was how Doyle had come to be on a half-built technology park on the outskirts of Grimpen on this particular night, looking for interesting stuff to thieve.

Stapleville was still under development. Only three units had been completed. The rest were building sites. Doyle could have picked any of these three buildings, but it was his misfortune on this most unfortunate of nights to pick the offices of Pemberton Software.

He picked Pemberton Software because it was the fanciest of the three buildings. The sign on the driveway indicated it was a software development company. That was exactly what Doyle was after. He wasn't greedy. A couple of laptops, an iPad or three ...just enough to get Doyle's head back above water, enough to let him keep breathing for the next couple of months.

He carefully circled the building. If Pemberton Software knew the security was shite they might have made their own arrangements. He didn't see any guards about. There were lamps and the whole place was probably alarmed, but Doyle didn't fear that. There were no guards on site and it would take a police dispatch car at least half an hour to get here. That was plenty long enough for Doyle to smash a window, swipe whatever goodies were lying around and be long gone. He wasn't scared of any CCTV either. With his grey hoody drawn up tight he could have been any youth off The Estate.

He was sneaking round the side of the three floor building when he heard tyres crunch on tarmac and saw the beams of headlights. He ducked out of sight round the corner of the building. He heard the car door open and then slam shut as someone got out.