Chapter 10

But the touch didn’t stop. The invisible tongue became more insistent. It parted her slick folds, exploring the tender, sensitive skin within. It swirled around the entrance to her vagina, teasing, promising. The initial alarm began to dissipate, and was replaced by an expanding, bewildered astonishment. The pleasure was undeniable, a deep, resonant hum that vibrated through her entire being. It was a pleasure so pure, so exquisite, that the question of its source began to seem irrelevant.

A slow, breathy moan escaped her lips as the invisible tongue finally penetrated her. It slipped inside her, not with a forceful thrust, but with a slow, inexorable slide that felt utterly natural and completely supernatural at the same time. The feeling was beyond anything she had ever experienced. The tongue was impossibly long, impossibly dexterous. It curled inside her, exploring every contour, every ridge of her inner walls. It stroked the sensitive spot just inside her entrance, sending shockwaves of pleasure radiating through her pelvis.

It felt as if it was tasting her, learning her, memorizing the very shape of her desire. Jennifer leaned back, her shoulders resting against the cold wooden stairs of the basement. She abandoned all pretense of stealth or control. She spread her legs as far as she could on the narrow step, her knees bent, her feet planted on the steps below. She was completely open, completely vulnerable, and offering herself to this unseen entity. Her pajama pants, still tangled around her legs, were a forgotten restraint. Her shirt hung open, her breasts exposed to the cool air, the nipples hard as pebbles.

The invisible tongue began to move with more purpose. It withdrew slightly, then plunged deeper, a slow, sensual fucking motion that made her toes curl. It was thicker than any real tongue could be, filling her in a way that was both satisfying and left her craving more. As it moved within her, the very tip of it began to flutter, a rapid, vibration like motion against her G-spot. A choked cry escaped her throat. Her hips bucked forward, trying to take more of it in, trying to deepen the contact.

Her hands, now clean of her own juices, found their way to her breasts. She cupped them, the weight of them familiar and yet feeling new under this spell. She squeezed them, her fingers digging into the firm, sweaty flesh. She rolled her hard nipples between her thumbs and forefingers, pinching them, sending sharp, pleasurable jolts down to her core, where they merged with the deep, thrumming pleasure of the invisible tongue.

The tongue responded to her body’s reactions. As she pinched her nipples, it seemed to swell inside her, pressing more firmly against her inner walls. It began to move in a corkscrewing motion, twisting as it thrust, stimulating every single nerve ending. Jennifer’s head fell back against the steps of the stairs, her mouth open in a silent scream of ecstasy. Her mind was blank, wiped clean of all thought except for the sensation of being so thoroughly, so impossibly pleasured.

She could feel her own wetness increasing, a flood of arousal that coated the unseen tongue, making its movements even smoother, more fluid. She could hear the soft, wet sounds it made as it moved inside her, a squelching, slurping noise that was incredibly erotic. The tongue would occasionally withdraw completely, leaving her feeling suddenly, achingly empty, only to lap at her clit with broad, flat strokes before plunging back inside her. Each time it re-entered, the pleasure was more intense, more overwhelming.

Her clit was not ignored. Even as the main body of the tongue worked inside her, she could feel a phantom extension of it, a separate, focused tip of pressure that circled her most sensitive bundle of nerves. It didn’t touch it directly at first, instead teasing around it, tracing the delicate hood, making her whimper with need. She wanted. No, she needed direct contact. She tried to shift her hips, to grind against the phantom sensation, but it remained maddeningly just out of reach. Her breath was coming in ragged, panting gasps.

“Please,” she whispered.

The word was a prayer to an unknown god. As if in answer to her plea, the phantom pressure finally made contact. It pressed directly against her clit, not with a hard jab, but with a firm, pulsating rhythm. It was like a tiny, perfect heart beating against her own. The combination of the deep, filling thrusts inside her and the focused, rhythmic pressure on her clit was more than she could bear.

Her body arched off the step, her back bowing into a perfect curve. Her hands flew from her breasts to her own hair, her fingers tangling in the strands, pulling as the pleasure became almost painful in its intensity. Her eyes were squeezed shut, but behind her eyelids, she saw a kaleidoscope of exploding colors. Blazing purples, electric blues, and brilliant whites.

An explosion of sheer agony ripped through Kristy’s bowels, a blinding flash of burning hot pain that seized her entire nervous system. Her body violently twisted, arching her back so hard it threatened to snap the stocks, but she was trapped. Her jaws dropped open in a soundless, strangled shriek as her air was stolen away by the intensity of the sensation. Her eyes bugged out, rolling back in her head, and her face instantly drained of all color, turning white as a sheet, terrified and broken in the narrow hallway.

Satisfied that she was fully impaled, Kristy’s father drew back a little, only to slam forward even harder. He rotated his hips lustily and hunched upward, burying every inch of the thick, cock inside her battered insides. The sudden, brutal withdrawal and subsequent thrust tore her body upward against the frame, filling her completely, his hips slapping loudly against her buttocks.

A blood-curdling howl of agony ripped from her lungs, the sound echoing through the room, raw and jagged, a sound of pure, unadulterated suffering that seemed to vibrate the very air in the sterile space. She threw her head back, arching her neck tightly to the wood, and shrieked over and over again, the sound high pitched and tearing. Tears of agony blurred her vision as sobs of pain wracked her throat, her body shuddering with every ragged breath against the relentless assault. Between ragged gasps and violent shudders, Kristy’s voice cracked, loudly screaming.