Newsgroups: alt.sex.bestiality From: jhereg@IASTATE.EDU (Alex M Geopel) Subject: Beth Date: Fri, 6 Nov 1992 10:22:59 GMT This is one of my favorites... my thanks to the author Beth by Set the Destroyer Beth awakes slowly to the mid-afternoon sounds of children playing. Something is in the air, something vital and positive. Wind tosses the verdant leaves, and sunlight dapples the backs of indigo butterflies. Moaning huskily, Beth wriggles in her satin sheets and hugs herself. Long golden hair a flowing halo, she stretches and her leonine body radiates pink warmth. [The door to her room is slightly ajar. The hall beyond ends at a stair. The stair descends into a parlor. Under the steps is another door. Beyond this door lies the basement.] Beth dresses in a willowy robe of lace and silk, the bodice is open and her nipples peek from behind the edges of the black fabric. She peers wistfully into the afternoon, head tilted, tip of tongue, and weaves her shining hair. In another bedroom, upon embroidered cushions, another beast grooms. He lies upon his side, tender tongue dressing his loins. Tail twitching, he looks up, cocked brow, to regard his mistress. [In moist darkness, something slithers. Green light glistens on a sinuous form shifting in restless sleep. Emeralds trickle like muted chimes; the air is cool and thick, like a numb drowse.] Beth saunters toward the silver shepherd, humming tunelessly. She purrs, "How's Bob?" Bob growls, ears frisky, eyes bright. She lies beside him, kissing his nose, licking his smiling whiskers. Her warm hand, slender fingers caress. Legs stiffening, Bob slides from his sheath, full and fresh. He tastes the valley of Beth's breasts and whines softly. She moves lower, her cheek against his downy coat feeling muscles tense beneath. Lips red a blood part and tender flesh disappears between them. Pearly canines glint, a panting tongue in pleasure lolls. Beth's hands grasp the shaft and source of her animal's yearning and firmly squeezes. She feel it swell within her, expanding against the back of her throat. Heavy and full, Bob strains toward release, claws scratching lightly against her firm thighs. Rolling her tongue, as though savoring candy, she presses her palm beneath his rising tail. She chokes slightly, her smile breaks the seal; warm sticky nectar runs down her chin and drips upon her now sleepy lover. [A clock winding up to strike, a presage of change to come, something rises slowly thru the silent depths of sleep. Anticipation, and unknown yearning, saliva drips from slack jaws and eyelids crinkle briefly. The dark haze is yet unhatched.] Content to let Bob rest, and yet with a warm desire growing, Beth quietly exits into the hall. Her hand wanders beneath silken folds toward damp down, tinder for a smoldering fire. In regal manner, mind distant, she descends the stair, and stands a moment puzzled by the faint chime of the doorbell. Robes loosely closed, nibbling a ruby nail, she pulls the heavy portal open. Behind, wide eyes, stands a young boy. She gestures him within, and he comes reluctantly, dragging a heady smell of summer fresh cut grass and fading lilac. "What is your name, young man?" she queries, mock sternness, arching brow. "Bobby," he murmurs, fascinated gaze tentatively exploring this elegant woman. "I'm the new paperboy - I need to collect... " Sternness gone, kindly smiling, Beth shuts the door and walks into the living room. Bobby's eyes register wonder, roving among numerous large cushions, traversing ankle deep carpet to where the lady sits coyly upon a couch, gently patting a spot beside her. Once in place, he fumbles for his collection book, searching for the ticket. He can feel her warmth beside him like a bonfire. A pleasant, unfamiliar scent tickles his nose. Beth appraises the boy intently, itching to touch, wetting her lips. Beneath the thin fabric of his shorts something strains plaintively. She is watching his rapid irregular pulse, when he looks up from his records. Like a drop of blood on thin muslin, scarlet spread swiftly across his face. He fumbles to cover himself, and his look of shame and fear twists her heart. Her breath catches in thrill, and she is possessed of an impulse begging action... "Bobby," she soothes, kneeling before him. "It's all right... will you touch me?" With a langourous shrug her robe falls away. His unsteady hand hovers in the air before her. She gently guides it to her breast, nipples hard beneath an almost reverent touch. [Awareness like a clip slapped firmly into place, fills the worm. It writhes spastically, spattering gems that flash and sing in an ignition of light. Vitriolic flame under a hooded gaze reveals a grotto filled with decayed treasure, ringed in serpentine coil. Sibilant thoughts and platinum claws delve a path upward. An old hunger beckons.] Beth on hands and knees before the now naked child, guides him into a position to mount her. Juices, hot and shivery, trace the inside of her thigh as he kneels on a pillow between her widely spread legs. As he lies forward, covering her and grasping her waist, she feels him, small and eager against her lips. She reaches back and grasps him, sliding him against her slick and swollen loins, preparing to accept him. He gasps, fingers pressing into her tense midriff. White spurts, warm and forceful, spatter her hanging breasts, the side of her face, and bead in her golden hair. Bobby is panting now, only momentarily soft; Beth continues stroking him. Within her, waves begin to crest; unable to control the urge, a deft movement places him within her. Legs tingling, her practiced muscles massaging his virginity, Beth raises her head and lows like a heifer in heat. Bobby is still larger than the shepherd and she very tight, his engorged tip burns a trail of intense pleasure within her. As together they labor toward ecstasy, the younger boy's movements grow jerkier, less controlled. Without hesitation, caught in the throes of impending orgasm, Beth reaches back again and forcefully grasps his small taught sac, regulating his movements within her and pulling his as deeply as she can. In her grasp he draws tightly close and she cries out and begins a pulsing climax as he empties within her. A still moment, a thin strand of drool between Bobby's parted lips, his shiny penis, shrunken and delicate slides free from Beth and dangles between her thighs. She imagines it hard again, in her mouth, the boy's soft tongue fluttering lost within her damp tangled nest, tasting his own sweet seed. Twisting about, she masters him, laying him upon the floor, head beneath her abdomen. Spreading his knobby knees, Beth lowers her full red lips to a newly blooming tulip and gently kisses. "Lick me," she whispers, "Lick everything you can paperboy, or I'll stop licking you." Back arching, she forces herself against the boy's face, delighting as she parts about his freckled nose, sliding mouth-ward. Tongue working madly, Bobby swells proudly and disappears slowly amidst white gleaming teeth. His pale easter grass curls touching her chin, Beth presses closer, devouring his cool prickling sac and its tiny oval treasures. Possessing all of the boy and nursing to the rhythm of his spastic kisses, Beth approaches a second, more intense climax. Full and forgotten, her bladder empties itself on Bobby's enraptured face. Yellow heat pools in the hollows of his throat and soaks into the surrounding carpet. Once again, she feels him contract, tensing to release. Paralyzed with the young child's enthusiastic ministrations, she fails to react to a loud crash from the room beyond. A hiss like steam, reminiscent of the spent urine, a long slithering form glides thru the rent basement door, slowly filling the parlor. The two twining figures, slick with sweat glisten in a sickly green light, oblivious. Bobby's stomach a clenching knot, forces his milky white length and swollen purple head deeper into Beth's throat. With irregular but forceful forays, goaded by Beth's increasing pressure and oral massage, his tongue drags her closer to a shuddering peak. Beth arches her back, her nostrils flare - and suddenly her mind freezes. Her impending orgasm is halted. Not stifled, but banked. Her mouth slackens, unmoving, and Bobby begins to slide slowly free, last flow of semen disgorging. Beth tries desperately to shake the spell which holds her achingly in helpless arousal. Quick pain courses thru her veins, heart beating needles. Her jaw clenches involuntarily and she tastes blood. Horrified, she watches Bobby's still pulsing penis flop against his abdomen, leaking red from a small but copious wound. Beth feels more than hears his shout of pain and betrayal, her be-slimed tumescence muffling the cry. Rather than revulsion, she thrills with an even more intense lust. Blood! Pain! These alien thoughts burn into her brain, as the boy scrambles out from beneath her and disappears into the periphery, a frightened rabbit. A large form hoves into view, and Beth remains frozen, locked to the cold feral gaze of the serpent. Its appraisal is of hunger, hunger that echos within her; the worm now awakened stalks its prey, closer coming. Its skin sparkles jewel-like, a rainbow mosaic. Hypnotised, Beth breathes deeply of its musk. She imagines her legs spreading further, her velvet flesh red and swollen - an exquisite sweet wound inviting another breech. Sticky liquids drip and pool beneath her. A talon beckons, matt chrome smooth and wickedly formed. Beth slides forward, upturned nose, blue eyes cutely crossed, entranced. She follows talon to paw to spur and tastes, tastes dust. Gently, the beast grips her skull and slowly twists; her fever flushed body rolls into a prone position. Purring oddly, the worm shifts and reveals more of its convoluted underbelly. The air becomes thick with a strange new stench. Squirming like an immensely fat night crawler, freshly unearthed and webbed in its own mucus, the beast's genitalia swell toward her. In a schizoid nightmare, desire and disgust battle in Beth's clouded and desperate mind. A whirling flame fills her body and she tries to piss, to defecate, to vomit and expel; the still building tension rips at the firmament of her being. She tries vainly to come, yet cries bitter tears. A thick clear ichor oozes from the end of the beast's swelling member. Beth finds herself lapping hungrily, savoring a strange citrus flavor. She tries to take the thing into her mouth, but it is too large - her mouth works like a fish out of water, lips caressing the hot alien flesh. With a dry rasp, the worm drags its huge snake like body over her. Bending in a tight curve, the sinuous neck brings its head close to Beth's. A dry pebbled tongue seeks out her mouth, as the worm's immense organ slides in a wet slurry across her belly, pressing between her breasts. Gagging and unable to breath, as the ropey tongue probes deeper into her throat, Beth begins to rock her hips, pressing herself against the shaft between her legs. Finally, she can feel the muscles deep within her prepare to spasm, to squeeze out the devouring lust. As she bites down to sever the invading tongue, the beast arches its back in an elegant re-curve and plunges its penis into her ready depths. Involuntary orgasm racks her body as the giant phallus surges deeper, tearing delicate tissue. Blood bathes her thighs and she chokes inarticulate screams around the rubbery questing tongue. As waves of pain and ecstasy wash over Beth, her eyes roll backwards, white blindness regarding horny plates and bottle glass scales. The worm trembles and thrusts deeper, its testicles, like ripe muskmelon, brushing against her thighs, slapping against her buttocks. The last last shuddering contractions fading, Beth slumps toward unconsciousness. Bruised organs sloshing in her body cavity, blood surging from her nose in rhythmic spurts, Beth is consumed. With violent gory thrusts, the worm rapes her dead body. Moist mewling, it gnaws furtively at her head, savoring the end of an old hunger. Limbs stiff, tail undulating, the worm pumps forth a vile fluid. Huge gouts of the stuff bloat Beth's abdomen, and sluggishly drain from relaxed orifices. Flesh softens and dissolves, in rancid mist, the dragon feasts. In a far corner, behind a cabinet, a little boy watches, bloody erection in fist clenched. The End