Posted by Puffy on June 07, 2008 at 10:33:43:
Hi, my first contribution to community! Please enjoy and commment - I would like to write stories that you like but can only do if you tell me how to make it better for you!
Also, I am open to ideas and suggestions. I have many of my own but if you tell me something you fancy and I like it too I can try. For now I am all experimenting!
This is all fiction and should resemble no real persons or events.
Furniture
By Puffy
“Dani turned out nicely,” I purred. The material was silky-smooth against my arm, and my hands rested lazily over the front edge, fingers twirling around the nubs there: “Her nipples are so conveniently placed.” My hands searched the human-skin sofa. “Where is her clitoris?”
“Just over the front edge between your knees,” Matt pointed.
“Oh!” My arms crept between my knees, felt around the front vertical surface of the seat and found the raised texture of her labia. I got off the chair and knelt down to inspect them: they looked as gorgeous as I remembered, albeit slightly more leathery to the touch. Dani’s natural fragrance was also sadly absent.
“Hey, there’s a hole in the sofa,” I joked, poking my fingers in between her vaginal lips. They slipped all the way in effortlessly. “Wow, they put her entire vagina in here. And self-lubricating too! Oh, Matt, you really spoiled her rotten!”
“She was a good girl,” Matt smiled at me, his eyes not quite focused, lost in his reverie.
To the left of her labia must have been the skin from her thigh: I recognised her tattoo of a kitten fluffing up a ball of string. Could I resist? No. I leant forward and licked it.
I sat back down on the sofa made from Dani’s skin. Her genitals were positioned exactly in the middle between my legs, lined up with my own. Her breasts made up the end of the armrests with well-positioned nipples that continually distracted my fingers. Stroke-stroke. Circle and twist. Give them a little squeeze.
And her head? Even the most well designed sofa had no room for a head, so Dani’s was mounted on the wall three feet above me. Her freckled face bore the wide, toothy grin we were so accustomed to when she was alive and her yellow tresses were tied up in a sophisticated bun.
I leaned back and rubbed my neck against the cushion of the chair. Girl leather was great material. I bent my head back and rubbed my crown against the headrest until I was staring upwards at Dani’s long nose.
Two shadows raced by the corner of my eye. I jerked upright. Too slow! The arms were wrapped around my neck, crushing my windpipe, pressing me against the headrest. My fingers tried to pry them off – no avail! Legs kicking, trying to find leverage. Can’t...breathe.
Then – I dropped to the ground. Choking. The arms gone. Where was Matt?
“Too slow, Alicia.” Boxer knelt beside me.
“What – ugh – was that for?”
“Foreplay.”
At that moment, Matt returned with a tray, set it on the coffee table and dragged it towards us. The table itself was glass over a bone frame. Not Dani’s bones, though. On the tray were two plates of bite-size Dani and three miniature forks.
“When do we start?” asked Boxer before popping some Dani into his mouth. He then reached out and caressed the Dani-skin sofa as he chewed, his eyelids briefly fluttering shut as he took the first bite. “Goddamn! You had to do her when I was overseas, Matt?”
“Everybody should be here within the hour,” said Matt, ignoring the remark as he savoured a chunk of his deceased girlfriend’s flesh.
“You missed out on a grand feast, Boxer.” I mumbled through a mouthful of Dani. Boxer waggled a finger disapprovingly at my table manners and I moved to bite them off. He quickly withdrew his hand.
“For a girl, you sure are aggressive at trying to bite people, Alicia,” accused Boxer.
“Fair’s fair,” I said. “You guys will be chewing on me for real, so why can’t I play-bite?”
“Is that jealousy?” teased Boxer.
“Come here!” I reached out for his arm, intending to pull him to me but ended up dragging myself towards him. He grabbed my head and pulled me up to his face. Then he gently bit the tip of my nose. An involuntary moan escaped my lips and I closed my eyes. I felt my pussy growing moist.
Boxer suddenly lost interest. “Were you feeding her amphetamines, Matt? I swear I’m getting high off this.”
“Who, Alicia?”
“Dani,” he gestured to the plate.
“No. No drugs. Her diet was normal. I guess she just took really good care of herself. She was always keen on being as appetising as possible for when her time came, doing yoga and a picky diet and exercising. And not smoking.”
Disappointed at Boxer’s sudden change of interest, I turned back to the sofa and brushed my fingers over it thoughtfully. Oh Dani, we had such wonderful times together. “Can you make me into furniture, Boxer?”
“There won’t be any of you left after tonight, babe.”
“What about my bones? You’re not going to make me into a table, are you?” I feigned worry: of course he would never do that to me! He would make me into something elegant: a piano, maybe. I looked at my fingers and squeezed my thighs thoughtfully, wondering if I had enough bones for all the keys.
“Jewellery, Alicia. For Jasmyn.”
“What?!” I slapped his shoulder. “For a rival?! How could you?”
He grinned. “Will you give a fuck?”
I pouted and looked away but knew he was right. In a few hours I wouldn’t care. But I did care right now! He came up to me and pressed a finger under my chin, using it to turn my head back to face him.
“You’re a great girl, babe,” he said and kissed me. How could I deny Boxer? I suckled his tongue but refrained from biting it – oh how I wanted to so much! Fair’s fair, for he would be eating mine soon. The thought sent a shiver down my spine and arched my back. Oh Boxer, give my tongue a little nibble now won’t you? My panties were becoming uncomfortably wet. I closed my eyes as the waves of desire washed down my body from where our lips met, paralysing me.
Next I was aware, I was only wearing my suddenly uncomfortable panties, and my unstrapped bra lay across my breasts. Somehow I was leant back with my legs were bent at the knee, and my weight rested on my shoulders supported by the cushion of the Dani chair. Like a cheating limbo player.
Where was Boxer? I wondered as I tossed the bra aside. The answer came immediately, as relief greeted my pussy: my panties being peeled back left a feeling like removing an itchy Band-Aid. It was more comfortable than before but still needed to be scratched! I reached a hand down to stroke myself but they were forced back by Boxer’s paws. My pelvis thrust and writhed in desire.
Boxer had his own style of love-making. Most of it involved depriving me of pleasure for as long as possible, that evil, frustrating, loveable man.
He had my hip pressed against the ground with one hand, his other hand wandering over the curves of my body, feeling around the outside of my thighs, up across my belly, starting their way up my breasts and side of my neck. My juices were running down my thighs, yet he continued to deprive me. Because I had gotten so frustrated, my hands kept pushing their way back between my legs, Boxer grabbed my wrists roughly and now there were now handcuffed together and tied to a table leg.
What was the cruel man doing now? He was running a drawing pin over my belly, down my legs, up my thighs, around my breasts, and every time the pin passed over my areolas, goose bumps exploded across my body and I shivered. Curse that man to eternal damnation!
“Fuck me fuck me fuck me!” I whimpered.
“Shhhhh,” he soothed.
“Fuck me fuck me oh – MMMMFFFFF!” First my hands, now I got too carried away with words and scored some duct tape over my mouth.
I shook my head left and right, right and left, as though I could shake the tape off. That was when I spotted from the corner of my eyes that some of the others had arrived. Matt and Damien were playing with Anabelle nearby. What were they doing?
Boxer didn’t give me time to find out: he finally decided to start teasing my genitals. Sudden flicks at my clitoris snapped my attention back to my ordeal. He poked one finger, then two, three, in and out of my vagina, which only drove me to anger: I was so wet I couldn’t feel anything because there was no friction!
But out of my aggravation, pleasurable feelings began to grow and I eventually became aware of Boxer thrusting into me. The feelings rose to a crescendo where upon the explosion he had to use both hands to keep my thrusting pelvis down so that he could continue pumping. Aside from that, I lost all awareness until I found myself breathing heavily onto Boxer’s penis.
I glanced up at his grinning face before wordlessly reaching out and pulling his member towards my mouth and licking it clean. This part I had control over, at least. This part was routine. It was so routine, I did not realise that the cuffs and duct tape were gone until after I had removed all evidence of sex from his genitals.
“Let’s clean you thoroughly and prepare you for the feast,” said Boxer, leading me to the bathroom by the hand.
After we were done, all of the party had arrived. Every head turned our way as he led me out into the kitchen. Everybody knew it was time. I spotted Jasmyn up near the front and returned her warm smile. Wait until she found out how annoying sex with Boxer was, I thought gleefully. In a few hours he would no longer be my problem!
“Do you want to say some last words, Alicia?” asked Matt.
I smiled at everybody and said, “I hope you all enjoy me. It’s been fun with all of you these years.”
Boxer attached the small collar to my neck and made sure it was secured properly. With two of the guys there to catch my body, he pressed the button on the front of the collar and grabbed hold of my rosy hair. “Farewell, Alicia.”
Beep. Beep. BIP!
A brief stinging sensation as the collar closed inwards, severing my head from my body. A sudden weightlessness followed by being swung quickly through the air. A pleasant tingling as Boxer gently lowered my head onto the raised centrepiece plate on the table and fixed my tresses. I watched as the guys opened the other half of the collar from the neck of my body and let the blood drain in the butchery area. Almost all houses had one for this kind of event. Matt’s was especially well-stocked with many tools, most of which I doubted he would ever need.
The half of the collar attached to my head was only capable of keeping me alive for a few hours, but it was enough. I didn’t know how it worked: technology never really interested me. That’s the kind of thing I left to the guys: why should any woman worry about it when she wasn’t going to be around for very long? I had better things to do with my twenty-three years!
One big bonus of being a friend of Matt was that he had the latest model collar that relayed sensations from my body to my head. The engineers who designed it put a lot of dampeners on the pain, which goes to show that sometimes they did think of everything. Well, maybe not: this model was missing the speech function, which was starting to bug me. But it was worth it, right? I had been around Boxer so long, I didn’t talk much anyway.
The collar was relaying to me some sensations on my breasts as the guys took the opportunity for a grope. My pussy was itching for it again. Oh, if only I could tell them to scratch it. As I watched them prop my body on the bench face-up – well, breast-up – I wondered if my body was still able to build up to orgasm even without my head attached to it. Or any blood. Could the collars do that?
Probably not, I guessed.
But what would I know? I was only a bodiless head. And I couldn’t ask anybody about it either. Curse those silly engineers!
The guys quickly worked into the routine. I watched in fascination as a knife pressed against my belly, depressing the taut skin before slipping through. It opened from my navel to my neck while another removed my fillet, which dangled three inches of flaccid vagina and was severed from the womb. My arms and legs were unromantically separated from my torso while my guts were dumped into a bucket. The two halves of my chest were lifted with breasts attached while Boxer worked on my belly. Then they flipped me over and worked on the back. No, they flipped the torso, not me: I was over here, a head on a platter.
The collar relayed the sensations of the men’s hands and sharp metal but dulled the pain to a barely perceptible tingle. When I managed to peel my eyes from the scene of the butchering area, the girls were all just as busy: chopping vegetables, dicing cheese, mixing the cream and fluffing up the mashed potato. Trays, pans, saucepans and pots were moved around with broccoli, carrots, cauliflower thrown in. The ovens were preheated and not one stovetop remained unused. We partied at Matt’s because he had the best kitchen. It saw a lot of use.
By this time the boys had reduced me – no, my body – to the standard cuts. For one brief moment it was all there, laid on the table: my entire ensemble. Then, with a flurry of hands, it all disappeared: into the pots, into the pans, into the ovens. Some met further abuse on a smaller butcher’s block. The collar relayed a mixture of sensations with an eerie effect: one part immersed in the water of a pot, one part an inch the left warmed by the growing heat of an oven, one part an inch to the right sizzling in the flash heat of a pan. It felt like one of the bondage games Boxer and I used to play, where I would be strung up helpless and paralysed while he controlled what I would and would not feel. I shook with a mental shiver as somebody ran a hand over a cut of my inner thigh while another snuck in some play on my breasts.
Boxer picked up my head and brought me into the lounge with the rest of the guys, who had finished their part. He brought me up to his face and licked my chin, working up to my lower lip and hesitated briefly, making me drool with anticipation. Then he plunged his tongue into my mouth and I reciprocated. His breathing was heavier and more passionate than before: he was savouring his last taste of my living mouth.
All too quickly, he pulled back and brought my head – brought me, really, since my head was all that was left – down to his penis. I opened wide to fit him in and he rapidly worked up the rhythm, using my head like a Fleshlight. Without the need to breathe, I found that I could use my tongue very effectively to bring him off.
Satisfied, he brought me up to his face again and, wearing a curious expression, played a finger over my face, teasing the flesh. It tickled, so I snapped my teeth together – if only I could move my head. He laughed and finally spoke: “Good old Alicia, even now you obsess with biting.” Then, being the infuriating man he was, he nibbled on my ear as if to rub it in: he was the one to do all the real biting and not me.
Some of the girls were done with their tasks and had joined the boys. Boxer brought me over to Jasmyn, lowering me to her pussy lips. “Your bones will make a ring she will wear here and here,” he said, touching her labia in two spots with his finger. He brought me up to her breasts and said, “I was thinking two rod piercings for her nipples too. Go on, lick them.”
He didn’t give me much choice, pushing my face into her left breast. I felt her more feminine hands on the back of my head – the back of me – pushing me in. What could I do? I started suckling. She did not taste half bad: I had an irresistible urge to bite down hard. At first I settled on teasing her nipple with my teeth and started applying more pressure. She really got into it judging from the way she moaned.
Boxer probably guessed my intentions and pulled me away. I held onto her nipples with my teeth and stretched her breast a bit before letting go, watching them spring back to their usual firmness.
“I want you to prepare her for me,” Boxer whispered as he lowered me back down between her legs.
I flicked my tongue across her clitoris and started licking. When she started overflowing, Boxer lifted me up and gave me to Jasmyn while he entered her. “Oh Allie sweetie, how are you?” she raised me to her face and beamed. “You look absolutely delicious, babe! I know you’re hungry for flesh yourself – don’t you think I’m good-tasting? You sure loved my nipple. Here, have another taste. Oh, Boxer just dived in on them, sorry babe. You know, Allie, your head looks so gorgeously juicy I want to cook it too. I so want to gobble you up right here!” With that, she pressed her lips against mine and we kissed. She tried to swallow my tongue; I tried to chew hers.
I could feel when she orgasmed: her suction went up and her tongue stopped resisting. I decided to refrain from biting the poor girl. “Oh Allie, I think you just turned me into a lesbian, girl. My tongue feels tingly all over! I can’t wait to sink my teeth into your lovely tits, and those thighs of yours, mmhmm! And that arse! Did you know I have always been jealous of your bum? It’s so tight and grrr! You don’t mind cleaning me up down there, do you?” Without waiting for the answer I couldn’t give, she pressed me against her dripping cunt. There was nothing to do but lick.
She was quite a talkative girl. I wondered how long she would last before she would be cooked herself: Boxer’s view on talking was less said the better. I was one of his longer lasting girlfriends because I quickly fell into his habit. How could I not for the man I loved?
The games went on for some time but eventually they returned me to the centrepiece and dinner was served. I could not have a taste, but the smell was heavenly. Our group had collected some superb cooking skills.
Boxer got my fillet, naturally, and everybody ritually waited as he cut off my clitoris and popped it into his mouth before they started on their own shares. The collar went crazy transmitting the sensations to me. Have you ever had your labia chewed? With the collar tuning out the pain, it was erotic. Have you ever had your fingers and toes sucked? It was sensuous. Have you ever felt somebody’s teeth on your inner thigh? It was wondrous.
Jasmyn got a piece of my thigh and a rump steak – my bum, as she called it. Matt had one my breasts and ribs. They were prepared exceptionally well and retained the firmness they had in life. I nearly had a mental orgasm when he started chewing my nipple.
Boxer was playing around with the fillet. It looked quite strange, really: the labial flesh was quite big, but the vagina itself was barely ten centimetres and looked like an empty condom. Boxer caught my eye and I smiled at him. He smiled back and said, “It’s almost a shame.” Oh Boxer you sweet thing. Eventually he decided to dig in.
In the end, all that remained of me were bones collected below my head so that Boxer could gather them and turn them into jewellery for Jasmyn. But there was still one thing left to do.
I had always wanted to be turned into a milkshake. Wouldn’t that make the perfect dessert or what?
Matt had purchased a new microwave oven with that feature especially for me. Boxer ceremoniously gave me one last kiss and then lowered my head into a bowl, keeping the collar on. I closed my eyes as they poured some powder into the bowl. My nose tickled and I really wanted to scratch it. Those silly engineers – I couldn’t tell anyone so I just had to bear it.
Into the microwave I went. I watched with keen interest as they set it. Then they activated it.
I
could feel my features becoming runny and liquid dripping down my face,
my head melting and mixing with the powder. It wouldn’t take long at
all, but I was happy: soon they would be enjoying Alicia-flavoured
milkshake.