This Is the Modern World - Cover

This Is the Modern World

Copyright© 2012 by Maxicue

Chapter 8

Fantasy Sex Story: Chapter 8 - Snake and his angels begin his Tales describing his transformation into his present guise. They tell of his pursuit and destruction of an old skin that threatens proof of his immortality. I enjoy immersing myself in his tales as well as in a couple more of his incredibly beautiful angels.

Caution: This Fantasy Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Ma/ft   Fa/Fa   Fa/ft   Ma/Ma   Mult   Consensual   NonConsensual   Lesbian   Heterosexual   Hermaphrodite   First   Oral Sex   Anal Sex   Prostitution  

Going to sleep early enabled a rest I desperately needed before being awoken even earlier than I had the day before. It was nighttime outside the windows of the hotel suite bedroom. "Hurry up, young ones," grinned Snake. "Our flight awaits." Clearing the cobwebs from my brain, I noticed he wore white denim from neck to ankle and his face had a white pasty complexion. Make-up.

Outside the bedroom, Steve Schwartz bookended as usual by the cute Irish angel twins wore a disgustingly bright smile and boxers. He looked past me to Lindy and said, "I'm ready when you are, Madame Director."

"How's this?" I heard Helena say and I turned towards her voice and saw her wearing a diaphanous white night gown. Her hair looked disheveled the way it did before a morning brushing tamed it.

"Perfect," Lindy nodded. "Sit on Steve's lap."

The twins stood and walked behind me. Helena sat.

Chanda, the Southeast Asian angel held a small but top of the line digital movie camera pointing at Steve and Helena. Buzz and a stranger, another male minion I figured who looked similar to Buzz, moved lights when Chanda gestured to them. "I need you in frame, Nick" she ordered professionally.

"Lean down, Nick," Lindy directed, "and stretch your hand towards Helena."

Chanda waved gestures at the minions and at Rosa who shifted a light behind the scene to create backlighting. Finally Chanda nodded at Lindy.

"Okay," Lindy smiled. "Move away, Snake. Start filming, Chanda. You two make love."

I couldn't help cringing jealously as Helena and Steve swapped spit and Steve caressed Helena's breasts through her thin gown. It was too real.

"Great," Lindy grinned, glancing at me and seeing my concerned grimace and taking my hand in hers and squeezing it and winking at me. "Now Helena, break the kiss abruptly and lift your eyes. Enter the scene, Nick. Lift your hand. Helena, take his hand. Make no change in expression, Steve, until she abandons your lap. Good. Pull her away, Nick. Now, Steve you can look confused by your suddenly empty lap. Great. Cut."

"Another take?" asked Steve.

Everyone looked at Chanda who shook her head. "Is good."

"Okay," Lindy said, "You three stand at the French doors."

Lights adjusted to the three actors while Chanda directed them. Rosa was given verbal directions since she set up behind the opened French doors inside the bedroom. Chanda nodded at Lindy.

"Close the doors, Rosa," Lindy commanded. "Okay, Nick, step into the scene and open the doors and sweep Helena inside. Helena, look blank. Close the door behind you, Nick. Good. Now Steve, keep that confused look and stand at the doors. Look at the handle. Look around. Walk away. Cut."

"Get dressed, people. We're heading to the desert," Nick commanded.

Cast and crew hustled to make time. We drove to Marin County to a small airport where we entered an old transport prop plain and filled it and soon took off with Snake and Salomé as pilot and copilot respectively.

"What about prep time?" I asked Betty nervously. She wore a jacket over a negligee as did all the angels except Chanda.

"Minions," Betty replied.

"Of course," I sighed, still nervous.

It was still dark when we took off, but sunrise began coloring the black sky along the top edges of the mountains to the left as we headed south. An hour or so later we began to descend onto a flat desert floor. No airport, just emptiness. I cringed. "What the fuck?"

"We're in the middle of nowhere," Betty explained with a chuckle. "Therefore we can land anywhere."

Anywhere turned out to have a couple of vans greeting us driven by Hispanic minions. Rosa kissed their cheeks in greeting. We drove maybe a hundred yards to an old shack that looked desperately empty and forgotten and yet somehow sturdy defying time's efforts at decay.

Steve wore khaki shorts and a white undershirt. The twins in their lingerie giggled when they poured a vat full of water over him: instant sweat. Steve shivered. It was cold. The angels seemed unaware of that fact as they discarded their jackets revealing their sexy forms enhanced by lingerie with nothing beneath. Through the thin veil I could see their taut nipples and the manicured brushes of pubic hair. They disappeared inside the shack.

The sun appeared as if on cue and lit up Steve in a red hue. Chanda filmed him walking towards the shack, his confused look shifting to a more determined one. Small cacti bearing flowers lined the path he took. The same ones would adorn the stage. They contained "The Perfect Drug," squeezed from the flowers like opium from poppies. He stepped in front of the wooden door and knocked. Nick opened the door, his whitewashed face stretched in a wide, malevolent grin.

Afterwards we shot the decadent harem scene, the angels lining the edges of the small room that took up most of the space of the shack wearing transparent peignoirs for harem outfits. They framed the scene of Snake's seductive administering of the drug into Helena's mouth. Her head tilted back; her mouth opened wide; she could be a chick receiving nourishment from the mother bird except for her hands rubbing between Nick's thighs and his caressing her face and throat just as incestuously. No innocence here. Especially with the angels surrounding them rubbing each other's intimate parts. The lighting in the shack came naturally and abundantly from a surprisingly large amount of windows, their shutters opened by the minions.

Lindy directed Nick to respond to Steve's knocking with a quiet smile that expanded when he opened the door as I mentioned before. Before opening it, he placed a spaced out Helena into the laps of Salomé and Rosa, contrast of their dark skin and Helena's pale skin looking very cool. Their hands caressed Helena's breasts and thighs.

Once close ups had been done of Nick, Helena, Steve and the angels, we wrapped. The minions provided nourishment for a brief celebratory party, huevos rancheros and breakfast burritos, delicious and appreciated.


"So you turned Naomi's grandmother into a pussy slut," I said recommencing the Serpent Tales session Tuesday evening. Winking at the beautiful Jewess I added, "Sounds appropriate."

Snake nodded and chuckled. "Ironically she took to Greta's blonde cunt the most."

"Low self-esteem, I think," said Miwa. "Her lust for Simon when she first saw him at her father's shop totally missing the monster within showed she wished she had those Aryan features that seemed to define European beauty, considering her Semitic features much uglier and maybe more importantly far less acceptable to society."

Grinning nostalgically, Snake reminisced, "Esther and Greta made an interesting couple and most enjoyable bedmates. They made sure they each got as much pleasure as possible, kissing and sucking the nipples of whoever I was fucking. And outside the bed they became soul mates really. It was a strange dynamic. I first suggested giving Esther a chance for revenge against Greta's father, but Esther's attraction towards the sexy blonde muted that. Meanwhile Greta wanted to be the object of revenge to assuage her guilt for seducing Epstein for so many years. So we played dominance and submission in the bedroom to relieve guilt and bring a slight taste of revenge. Outside the bedroom though, they bonded in a deep friendship. You see, though ethnically opposite, intellectually they were equals. They enjoyed conversing with each other as much as they enjoyed licking each other into ecstasy, and believe me they loved those sixty-nine sessions."

"So I take it it wasn't a one night thing with Greta," I said.

"I did tell Esther that," Snake admitted, "to temper her jealousy a little. Believe me, their attraction for each other, and Greta was as physically attracted to Esther as Esther was to her, surprised the shit out of me. That first night, after seeing Epstein and his wife off in Carlos's carriage..."


Hearing sniffles beside her, Esther shifts her eyes and sees the streaming tears. Taking Greta's hands, she turns her to face her and smiles. "Why are you crying, Greta? I bet they haven't been so happy to be together in years." One hand releases and moves Greta's chin up, which Greta resists, wanting to stare down in shame. Finally their eyes meet.

"I could have broken two wonderful people's hearts," Greta sobs. "In fact I worked quite hard at doing just that."

Esther pulls her into her arms. "It's not your fault, Greta. It's..."

"Say it."

"He's your father."

"Say it."

"It was your ... father's doing."

"Say it."

"That ... motherfucker ... That ... fucking monster ... that ... sadistic parasite ... that fucking ... rapist..."

Both of them cry in their embrace.

"But I liked it," says Greta quietly. "I liked fucking that little pipsqueak."

The sobs subside supplanted by giggles. Then a moan escapes Esther's lips.

"What?" asks Greta continuing the long embrace in front of the upscale populace passing them outside the hotel.

"You ... smell so good, Greta. And ... this feels so good."

They finally separate and stare into each other's eyes.

"You do too, beautiful Esther."

"I'm not the beautiful one here," Esther insists.

Pulling a stray lock that had attached to Esther's damp cheeks and brushing it into her wavy brunette thickness, Greta whispers, "But you are. You're breathtaking."

"You need spectacles."

"Nick?" says Greta, continuing to look into Esther's eyes, "She's beautiful, isn't she?"

"You both glow with perfection," says Snake, "with perfect beauty." His arms circling their waists he leans down to whisper into Greta's ear just loud enough for Esther to hear. "I promised to fill all your holes. I have just the men for the job."

Trembling and blushing, Greta replies, "Tell them to fuck me hard. No restraints. I want it to hurt. I want to be as bruised and beaten as Esther has been. And I want you," she addresses Esther, "to whip me or punch me or bite me until I bleed from every orifice and from my tits and my back and everywhere."

"I ... couldn't," Esther murmurs.

"You have to. Especially if it's only to be tonight."

"I don't want it to be."

"Me neither."

Snake smiles. "Then it won't be, my beautiful ladies." They embrace him happily. "Come meet my friends." He leads them into the lobby and to the elevator and the eager Negro manning it. Flipping a silver coin to him when they reach the top floor, Nick tells him, "I'm a fortunate man, aren't I, Clive?"

"Why's that?" asks Clive, happily pocketing the coin.

"Radiant beauty under both arms."

"Yes sir. I'd say you're the luckiest man in the world."

They chuckle and Clive disappears behind the elevator door.

Stepping across the hallway, Nick knocks on a door. It immediately opens with Miwa smiling and looking stunning in her open robe barely concealing her nipples but revealing her taut tummy and well groomed pubic hair and puffy pussy lips. She grabs Greta and pulls her inside. "They're ready for you. I made sure."

Nick and Esther follow them into the main bedroom where Oliver lays naked fondling his full erection pointing at the ceiling and Boyd standing nearby fondles his.

"Strip me Nick," Greta groans.

"Let me," Esther insists, kissing where flesh becomes naked.

"Is that some sort of lubricant?" Greta asks Boyd noticing his shiny cock. He nods. "Wipe it off!"

"He has to get it in you," Nick argues.

"Oh alright. I want you to fuck me as hard as you ever fucked anyone. No fear of hurting me. I want you to hurt me!"

"She gets off on this?' Boyd asks Miwa.

Kissing the charming and beautiful young man, Miwa answers, "She wants it, okay? Let it be a once in a lifetime experience."

As soon as she's naked, Greta straddles Oliver and guides his glans to her entrance and immediately plummets onto it with a groan. Her face tightens. "Fuck me now, young man," she insists. Boyd presses his glans tentatively at her anus. "Just shove it in, goddamnit!" A tight face becomes a grimace as she holds back an exclamation of pain when Boyd impales her completely. "Fuck my throat, Nick. Now! Fuck me boys. Don't hold back." She begins bouncing on Oliver's cock while Boyd grasps her hips and finds her rhythm and pounds into her. "What's your name, young man," she gasps.

"Boyd, ma'am."

"Fuck me hard, Boyd. Harder!"

Soon she's silenced by Nick's cock in her mouth. She opens wide and her eyes plead with Nick. He nods and thrusts into her throat. She chokes on it but manages to keep her gorge. Her hand reaches out for Greta's and pulls her hand to her bouncing breasts. Pulling away from Nick's cock, she tells her new lover, "Pinch the nipples. Use your nails. Make me bleed."

"I..."

"Please?" Her mouth opens to Nick's long thick cock which fills it and her throat. Her eyes wide and her face taut, she gazes at Esther. Esther nods and starts slapping her and scratching her and pinching fingernails deeply into her rigid nipples. She watches tears stream from her lover's eyes, but they demand more pain. Grabbing britches off the floor, she removes the belt and starts whipping her with it, first the leather end and then the buckle. Greta's smooth white back becomes mottled with red marks and cuts.

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