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o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o
o This part of my collection offers a very wide variety of stories. o
o They have been submitted by people from all over the world. Also from o
o alt.sex.stories (Newsgroups). There is no particular order to this o
o section of my collection, other than offering them to you in alpha- o
o betical directories. o
o I don’t believe in categorizing things. "I don’t want to be typed o
o therefore I don’t type things myself." I think it’s a lot more fun to o
o browse around and find 'little' surprises, and topics that you might o
o not have even thought of looking for. I hope you enjoy your time among o
o Kristen’s book shelf directories. o
o Lest we forget!!! This story was produced as adult entertainment o
o and should not be read by minors. Thank you, Kristen Becker o
o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o
Attack of the 100 meter Dom and the 94 meter Submissive
- By Kat's Master
-A Houseboat in the Mid-Pacific, 9:00 AM
Trent smiled in the warm sun, reclining easily in his lawnchair on
the deck of the SS Eros. The wind blew fresh sea air through his long, pitch
black hair, cooling his neck. He smiled again as he heard the faint creek of
a door opening. Turning his head he saw just what he expected, the door
to the lower deck swinging open. He watched the graceful figure step
lithely on deck.
She was a wonder to behold, firm and full of body, every curve a
masterpiece in and of itself. Her auburn hair was pulled back behind her
shoulders, tumbling to mid-spine. Her figure was naked, save for the
smooth collar of black leather, the nipple clamps, and the 5 inch stiletto
heels. She moved with the grace of a dancer, her legs stretching, her
chest jiggling with each step, enticing Trent's gaze. He motioned her
forward, and she moved obediently towards him.
"Come here Pet." he said, rapidly growing hard in the anticipation
of his servant's obedience. As she approached he saw that she still had not
removed the bright yellow ball gag he had strapped to her head earlier that
day. Then again, the key to its lock was in his pocket. His slave walked
forward, handing him a tall glass of iced tea. He took it, sipping deeply.
He looked up, a half-grin on his face. The rocking of the boat added to
Trent's excitement, as her body was rocked back and forth. "Thank you
Kelly."
Kelly mumbled through her gag, bowing obediently. The rocking of
the boat was exciting her as well, but she knew well enough the punishments
that would follow if the master caught her satisfying herself. She moaned
at the thought of those punishments, for though they were excruciating they
were always insidiously enticing. Had the ball gag not been in her mouth
she would have begged, for the master had not satisfied himself within her
since they left port two days ago. She wanted him, and the very thought
of having him made her wet, the juices welling, a tiny stream running down
her leg.
"Come here Kitten..." He said, motioning her forward again. She
took another step, still closer, and continued till she stood next to
him, his face even with her pussy. "Tell me Kitten, does it burn?" He
moved his hand to her crotch, grasping it. A faint moan escaped the
ball gag. "Does your clit want something?" He squeezed her swollen lips,
releasing a flood of juices. Her muffled moans were her only answer.
He smiled, releasing her ball gag. "Remain silent, anything more communicative
than a moan, and you'll have a far less pleasant gag."
Kelly nodded obediently, knowing full well her master was not bluffing.
She wanted so much to beg for release, rubbing her thighs together. The
moisture run down her legs. She knew that any stimulation would work her
into a frenzy almost immediately. She begged with her eyes, pleading silently.
Trent looked up, opening his mouth, preparing to give the next command.
His words were silenced as a blinding flash sprung up on the horizon. He
and his slave both turned, staring into the burning cloud of smoke, rising
in a mushroom-shaped tower. Neither of them had time to scream as the
wave of sound and heat blasted the tiny ship from the sea, tossing the dom
and his slave into the air like fragments of ash from a bonfire.
-The Pentagon, Colonel Howzis's office, Two hours later.
The phone had only rang once when the Colonel grabbed it, raising
it to his ear. The call had come in on line four. Nothing good ever came
in on line four. The last time it was used Howzis was forced to bring a
violent end to the latest John Denver Christmas special. Not a pretty sight.
"Howzis speaking." He said into the receiver, resisting the urge
to impersonate a pizzeria telephone operator and let the situation get
routed to someone else.
"Sir, we have some bad news."
"Of course you have bad news, this line is the fountain of bad news.
What now? Those two kooks from the FBI sneak into Hanger 14 again?"
"No, its worse sir! Exactly two hours ago a nuclear device was
detonated in the Pacific!"
"GOOD GOD MAN! Who's was it? We have to get the country on alert,
its those damn commies isn't it..." The Colonel blurted, years of cold war
training leaping up at the first chance to be utilized, even in the absence
of a viable enemy.
"Actually sir... Its one of ours."
"Come again?"
"It was a scheduled nuclear weapons test, it went unnoticed in the
records, and apparently, our bureaucracy actually went through with it."
"What?" The Colonel murmured, the cigar dropping to his desk.
"Apparently there was a records glitch, we're looking into all the
contingencies now. One of the old above-ground nuclear tests was... well...
rescheduled for 1995. Oh, and the 86th airborne is descending on Berlin..."
"Oh man, the press is gonna give us hell about this..." The Colonel
said, feeling the latest of a long line of ulcers being born. "This is
worse than the bomb-carring-bat fiasco."
"Or the fish-dropping incident of 1965, Sir."
The colonel groaned, remembering the incident in detail. "We have
to mobilize damage control. This tragic event is the work of..." He fingered
a dart and threw it at the map of the world that was hung on his wall.
"... Tasmanian terrorists."
"Has this come to the attention of the President or Congress?"
"No sir, CNN hasn't run the story yet."
"Good, get the REAL account of what happened out before they have a
chance to air anything." The Colonel said, sarcasm hanging strongly on the
word real.
"Yes sir!"
"And soldier..."
"Yes sir?"
"GET THE 86TH OUT OF BERLIN!" The colonel screamed into the receiver
before slamming the phone down. Sighing, he reached for the ever present
bottle of antacids, realizing that this was going to be a very long day.
-One Week Later, 4 miles off the coast of Japan.
"Sho? Sho, what is that?" Mizaki said pointing to the horizon from
the deck of the cruise ship Yamcha. Her newlywed husband followed her finger
to a pair of dark spots in the water. A light wave broke against the Yamcha's
hull, causing the ship to rise slightly.
"I don't know Mizaki. We'd better tell the captain." Sho replied.
Sping the captain on his daily walk of the ship, Sho waved him down.
"Captain! Captain come look at this!"
"Ah, Sho-San. How are you and your wife this evening?" The captain
said, straitening his starched white jacket.
"Very well, Captain. What is that?" Pointing strait at the two
dark spots in the water.
The air was split by a bellowing roar of sorts. The ship was buffeted
by a series of large waves, rocking it back and forth. The captain raised his
binoculars, gazing at the two spots. Before his eyes the water began to
boil, and two black objects began to rise up out of the water. A mass of
black spikes rose from the water on the right, and a mass of red-brown spirals
on the left. The roaring increased, as did the intensity of the buffeting
waves.
"Na... NANE?!?" The captain gasped, lowering the binoculars for a
moment. When he raised them again, he focused on a pair of fire-red eyes.
A powerful wave crashed against the ship, knocking the ship to the side.
Mizaki screamed as she tumbled over the rail. Sho reached out, screaming
her name before looking up and screaming for himself as a monstrous shadow
enveloped the ship, and the Yamcha was dragged underwater midst inhuman
bellowing, submerged by the smashing waves.
"Master? What happened to us?" Kelly said, standing waist deep in
the pacific.
"I don't know my Pet.." He said looking at his servant with glowing
red eyes. She seemed pretty much the same, save that her hair was hanging
in drenched coils, and her eyes were a lovely pink instead of their original
gray. Her nipple clamps, collar and ball gag were all gone, which explained
why she was able to speak. Her nipples were erect, hard and pink. The
seawater lapped at her womanhood, washing in and out. The entire scene
was breathtaking. "But I don't care. Being the size of a mountain is no
excuse for speaking out of turn."
Kelly bowed her head, fearful of her master's wrath while craving
it at the same time. He looked different now. His eyes were red, like two
live coals, and his long hair was now a mass of shiny black spikes. His
musculature was also enhanced, and as he spoke he bared his teeth, revealing
their sharpened points.
"Under the circumstances, I don't think it really matters." Trent
said, turning his head to one side. In the darkness the waves reflected
moonlight, and beyond that rose a mass of lights. "Come Kitten, its time
to play."
Recognizing the tone of his voice she smiled. "Yes Master."
Hours later the dom and his slave were stepping up from the bay.
Trent laughed at how small the ships were, crushing one beneath the sole
of his unprotected foot. Kelly followed just behind him, smiling, watching
her master wreck havoc on the tiny city. Thousands of ant-like people
scurried from the buildings, fleeing the two, giant, naked Americans. A
few police vehicles turned the corner, heading towards the two towering
gaijin before promptly turning around and fleeing.
"Look at them Kitten... Look at the little ants scurry away."
To his slave and himself the titanic dom's voice sounded coherent and
intelligible. To the fleeing ants on the ground, the monstrous being's
voice was a booming roar, distorted by the immense size of his vocal
cords. A mammoth fist collapsed the top of a portside fishpacking plant,
causing it to callapse inward. Trent jumped up and down, laughing
evilly, smashing two footprints into the pavement below.
On the ground, Habiki Genma looked up midst the swarming crowds
of panicked citizens. He'd just come to the bay to visit his father, a
fish packer, after school. And now, staring up into the sky, he was held
transfixed by what he saw.
"Oooh... Those are some breasts." He gasped, looking into the
immensity of the rampaging submissive's bosom. He remained transfixed,
his eyes drawn to the massive clit. He found himself wishing for a wetsuit
for some reason, just before a smooth skinned foot the size of a Bus
smashed him into the pavement.
Looking over at his slave, the titanic immensity of her bosom
enticing him, Trent smiled. There had been enough mindless destruction,
now the destruction would be for a purpose.
"Come here Pet" He commanded, and his servant followed obediently,
crushing a Kareoke bar and two hotels in the process. "Kneel before me, my
pet, we need to get you properly attired." She did as she was commanding,
growing hot and wet at the thought of her master dressing her in the midst
of a city, an entire world watching. She watched as her master roared,
tearing a mass of high-tension electrical wires from their towers. Half
of Tokyo blackened in an instant. She could hear the sounds of a thousand
terrified people running away, screaming a language she did not understand.
Her master twined the wires, forming a makeshift metal collar, wrapping it
around her neck, tying it behind her. She moaned as he attached another
length of electrical cable to her neck, making a leash. The terrified
screams were making her hot, she was a goddess, to be feared by the lower
lifeforms that ran from her. But she was her master's willing servant,
and relished the pressure on her nipples as a pair of sky blue recent-
model Hondas were clamped to them by their hoods. She moaned, an involuntary
shake swaying her rear into the building next to her, smashing it open.
"Now, my dear, sweet servant, crush the subway system, while I
dispose of these..." Waving a hand at a coast guard helicopter, crushing
it. The explosion stung his hand, but the pain was minimal. "These
little things did this to us, so we'll give them all the mercy they
deserve." Feeling a tickle on the back of his neck he turned to see
tiny flashes of automatic weapons fire coming from a helicopter. Anger
rose in him, and electricity seemed to crackle through the mass of spines
that sprouted where his hair should have been. Opening his mouth, he
roared, and a blast of pure, white-hot energy turned the flying attacker
into a ball of falling metal slag.
Kelly stepped towards the subway system, her master's display having
exited her. She ached for satisfaction, surprised at how smooth a collar
of high-tension electrical cable could feel. She didn't care about the
cars she felt crunch beneath her feet, the sensation was something like
stepping on eggshells. She only cared about making her master happy, pleasing
him so that he would use his now monstrous member to pleasure her. The
thought of making love to him on this scale made her wet, and a dribble of
her juices leaked from her clit and fell, splashing on the street. She
reached the subway as it exited from beneath ground and became an elevated
train. She waited for the first monorail car to leave the tunnel, catching
it with her hand. She felt it struggle against her, and instinctively
crushed the track, cutting its power. Lifting the car she stared into it,
wondering who was trapped within. Her eye leveled with one of the windows,
and she stared, seeing a car full of Japanese businessmen. They screamed,
huddling on the back side of the car. She stroked the car, noticing its
shape, feeling the urge to satisfy herself. The business men screamed
louder, terrified.
She took it down, lowering it to her pussy, pointing the front of
the car into her deep clit. She needed no lubrication, she was hot enough
as it was, her own juices made the car slide in as she sat in the street, lying
back, resting her head on a Kentucky Fried Chicken, the smells of the 11 herbs
and spices rising up to her mammoth nostrils. The car slid in more and more
as she pushed. She moaned as the penis-shaped vehicle gave her a limited form
of the release she wanted. She pushed it in further, feeling it within her,
groaning. Her juices overtook the vehicle and poured out on the ground,
coating it with her thick, sweet liquid.
Turning, her master smiled, seeing the destruction they were causing.
Another swath of his lethal breath attack set fire to the downtown electronics
district. Seeing his servant pleasuring herself, he walked forward, erect and
aroused...
-Eight hours later, at A Rapidly Constructed UN combat outside of Tokyo
"Come on, get those tanks ready, lets MOVE, MOVE, MOVE!" Commander
Dennison screamed through the megaphone, watching the blue-bret clad soldiers
surrying left and right. His cold eyes stared at the two creatures, the huge,
naked monsters writhing in each other's embrace in the city, ignoring the
few attacks by the Japanese coast guard. "Damn Tasmanian terrorists..." he
grumbled into his cigar. "I bet those two abominations are their fault."
As the United Nations attack force gathered, Commander Dennison looked
out at the sea of baby blue berets, and shook his head. Why not just make
us carry big neon signs that say "Hello, I'm a target!", He thought to
himself. They had the most advanced weaponry on the face of the earth, and
they were wearing baby blue combat fatigues. Dennison cursed beurocratic
bumbling and ordered the remote missile launchers into position. He groaned
to himself, watching the destruction of the metropolis through his binoculars.
"Damn... Why is it that a 300 foot tall monster is getting more than
I am?" He muttered to himself, flicking his cigar butt at a passing French
soldier. It struck the Parisian in the head, glancing off and falling to
the ground. As he stood there, wondering if a normal sized woman could move
like the one he was looking at, he was stopped by a trim British soldier in
the same, tactically moronic baby blue beret the Commander wore.
"Commander Dennison, there are some people here to speak with you."
"Damnit soldier, send them over."
The soldier saluted, turned and left. The roaring of the two beasts
filled the air, annoying the Commander to no end. The soldier returned with
a short Asian man, dressed in a lab coat, and another, similarly dressed
Caucasian with gray hair and a scraggly beard. The second man seemed to
be staring at the commander with one eye, and the city with the other. The
Asian man bowed, his glasses slipping a little on his nose.
"Ah, Commander Dennison. I am Professor Kinshiro Saeba, chief
director of the Tokyo Institute of Atomic Mutation and Urban Renewal, and
this is Doctor VanSpatz. I think we may have a solution to this whole
situation."
"I have a solution to this situation, Professor, we kill both those
abominations."
"I think they can be, reasoned with, Commander." The professor said,
pulling out a tape recorder. His finger slowly moved up to the play button,
clicking it into place. The tape began to spin slowly, and the speaker
clicked to life. A moaning, slightly distorted voice groaned from the speaker.
"Yes... Oh... Yes my master... oh... AH..."
"Professor, I don't care what you do in your spare time, just don't
bother me with it." The commander said, reaching for another cigar.
"This tape is those creatures' sounds, adjusted and filtered. They
are speaking, we just can't hear them because their vocal chords are so
incredibly enlarged. I think if we can distort our voices to their level,
they could hear and understand us."
"Have you seen what those things are doing? You think they can be
dealt with?" The Commander said, lighting the cigar.
"We have permission from the UN to go through with our plan. If it
doesn't work, you can move in." The professor said.
"Ve are going to offer zem ze option of letting our Zeintists try
to return zem to normal." The professor's companion said in a strange accent.
"Und vir going to offer zem ze vorld's largest pair of pants."
"Pants?" The Commander said, his cigar dropping from his mouth.
"Vell, look at zem! Ze male is valking around mit no pants und it
gets very cold at night. If I vere the one mit no pants, I vould vant zem."
"What about the female then?"
"Have you zeen ze female? Vould you give ze female pants?"
The Commander looked at the Doctor for a moment. "Yeah, good point."
Professor Saeba stepped forward. "We have a helicopter with the
loudspeaker and distorter set up. Doctor VanSpatz will have our crew set
up the pants."
The commander merely shook his head and motioned for them to begin.
He lit up another cigar, inhaling deeply. He could hear the men behind him,
lifting the pants between two iron extension towers. He could hear the
searchlights being turned on to focus on the gigantic garmet. And he could
hear the helicopter taking off through the roar of the two monstrous lovers.
-One hour later, Back in the City
Kelly lay on her back, moaning as her master removed the monorail
car from her. He had timed it well, taking it from her in the moment
just before her climax. Her juices flowed into the street, sliding down
the sewer drains. She looked up at her master. He had always been powerful,
always commanding, and now he was a million times more powerful.
"Now my pet, does my kitten want something?" He said, tossing the
car, complete with suffocated Japanese businessmen, over his shoulder, crushing
a shopping center.
"Uh-huh..." She moaned, lust welling in her voice.
Trent moved lower, his right arm crushing the local department of
motor vehicles. He brought his fingers to her clit, massaging its outside.
His slave released a contented purr under the dancing fingertips, and her
master's eyes began to glow like fire.
"Does my kitten like this?" He said, continuing.
"Ohhh... Yes Master..." She moaned, her nipples becoming even harder
under the two automobiles/nipple clamps. Her master withdrew his hand, moving
his shaft closer to her sex. "Please master... Please pleasure yourself..."
Smiling, her master complied, sliding into her. She moaned as he
moved into her, the force of their two gargantuan weights crushing the ground
beneath them. She moaned as he thrust, deeper and deeper, his breath hot
on her face. He continued thrusting, feeling the depth of her sex, the
tightness of her muscles constricting against his shaft. She continued
moaning and writhing beneath her master.
"Yes master, fuck me, fuck me long and hard!" She screamed, the force
shattering the windows of a yet-untouched office building. Her master obliged,
staring into her eyes, her lips, and then her vast bosom. The twin Hondas
enhanced her hard, pink nipples, making them harder, more enticing. She
was moaning, completely unintelligible now, absorbed entirely into the task
at hand. The pressure built, he thrust deeper, feeling her juices slosh out.
His shaft shuddered, and with a thunderous roar he released his load. His
cum flowed into her steadily, and he felt her muscles contract. Her scream
of passion as she lost control echoed through the city. He moaned as she
came, feeling her impassioned body writhe beneath his own.
"Oh thank you master..." She said as he slowly withdrew. She fell
back, exhausted. He smiled down at his resting slave, willing to let her
rest before the next encounter. A buzzing at his ear caused him to turn his
head. Another helicopter hovered just beyond his face. He smiled, flattening
his right hand.
"GREETINGS VERTICALLY ENDOWED INDIVIDUALS" A voice boomed from the
helicopter. "WE REALIZE THAT YOU ARE RATHER UPSET. WE HAVE A TEAM OF
SCIENTISTS READY TO TRY TO RETURN YOU TO NORMAL. AND WE HAVE A VERY LARGE
PAIR OF PANTS WAITING FOR YOU."
On the ground Doctor VanSpatz watched the entire encounter from a
platform at the base of the extension towers.
"Ja, ja, bring zem to ze pants..." He said to himself. "Bring zem to
ze pants..."
Trent turned, eyes flaming. "What?" He said, the force of the air
buffeting the helicopter.
Professor Saeba pressed the distorter button, filtering the recording
of the monster's voice. Raising the megaphone, he responded. "WE ARE WILLING
TO REACH A COMPROMISE TO PREVENT FURTHER DESTRUCTION TO THE CITY."
Looking down at his pet's heaving chest, Trent pondered for a moment.
"Are the pants relaxed fit?"
Proffessor Saeba filtered the question and responded. "I DON'T KNOW,
LET ME CHECK." He raised the radio to his mouth and spoke. "I need to know
if the pants are relaxed fit."
In the mobile UN War room, the commander received the message.
"Gentlemen, we need to know if the pants are relaxed fit. General
Tayaiama?"
"I do not know, General Smith?"
"No idea, General Aedmisaeon?"
"Beats me, General Oswald?"
"eh... General Nobu?"
"I don't have that information. Perry Mason?"
"I fear for all mankind..."
Commander Dennison slapped his forehead in frustration. "Better loosen
those berets boys." Lighting yet another cigar, the Commander reached for
the telephone before dialing the Doctor's platform. After ringing twice, the
phone clicked, and a familiar voice rang through it.
"Ja, Doctor VanSpatz speaking."
"Doctor, are ze..." The Commander shook his head once. "Are THE pants
relaxed fit?"
"Nein... Ze pants, ze are normal, though zey are quite roomy in ze
crotch."
"Thank you... Doctor." The Commander said before relaying the
information to Professor Saeba.
"THE PANTS ARE NORMAL, BUT THEY ARE QUITE ROOMY IN THE CROTCH."
Professor Saeba said into the megaphone.
Trent paused. A pair of pants, that was tempting. But he did so hate
wearing tight pants. And what about that roomy in the crotch crack? He
wondered why the little humans even bothered with penis envy when it came to
him. Looking down at his exhausted pet. It had been a very long day. Waking
up, discovering they were atomic mutations, laying waste to a city, it was
all very tiring.
Trent said nothing. He simply began lumbering towards the pants, his
pet's leash in hand. Seeing his approach, Doctor VanSpatz smiled.
"Ja, ja, bring zem to ze pants... Bring zem to ze pants."
With a mighty roar, Trent used his breath attack to lay waste to the
United Nations tanks, each speck of baby blue drawing his attention. As he
reached the pants, the Doctor fled. Snapping the steel cables from the
extension towers, the monstrous dom slipped on the pants, looping the
enormous buttons through the appropriate holes. The pants were a little
tight, and there was some room in the crotch.
"Ahh... Excellent stitching." He smiled, leading his pet away from
the pants. "You've had a rough night Kitten, lets go see if we can find
someplace to stay, maybe an island populated with a ridiculously high
concentration of oversized, radioactive monsters." His Kitten purred as they
waded back into the ocean, leaving the flaming city of Tokyo behind them.
"Then again, New York sounds pretty dull, doesn't it Pet?"
To be Continued?