Monstrous Penetrations Volume 2 (Monster Erotica 4-Book Bundle) E-Book

Nixie Fairfax

• Herausgeber: Nixie Fairfax
• Kategorie: Erotik
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2019

Beschreibung

Four more toe-curling tales of sexy young women being roughly taken by insatiable, hugely hung monsters.

Volume 2 includes:
“The Ultimate Sensation” – Pleasure-seeking heiress Jasmine is spending the summer living it up on the tropical island paradise of Vilau, whose jungles are said to be home to the Panlopa, a shockingly well-endowed Sasquatch-like monster-man. Jasmine scoffs at the stories, but when the natives decide to offer her up to the Panlopa to be its new mate, she soon learns how real the monster is…and she finally finds the ultimate pleasure she has long sought!
“Caught” – Emmaline’s special bond with canines has always served her well in her job as Tucks Mills’ dog catcher. But that bond sends her life spinning in an unexpected new direction when she meets a handsome stranger who captivates her like no other man she’s ever met. What she doesn’t know is that he’s a werewolf on the hunt for just the right woman for him and his two packmates to mate with…and Emmaline is clearly the one! After catching the dog catcher in a trap of their own, the three virile, well-hung werewolves roughly have their way with her, one after another.
“Intrusion” – Married scientists Monty and Nerissa think they’re about to make history with a new invention that offers glimpses of alternate dimensions. But during the device’s trial run, a hulking monster appears in the lab, and when it lays eyes on Nerissa, its only aim is to have its way with her. After his attempt to stop the alien intruder leaves him pinned beneath a piece of heavy equipment, Monty can only watch, helpless and horrified yet strangely aroused, as the hugely hung brute claims his wife…and in the process gives her pleasure light-years beyond anything she has ever felt with her nerdy husband.
“Orced Raw” – After finding evidence of orc activity near the border of her forest homeland, Elara the elvish ranger sets out to investigate. When she recklessly gets too close to their lair, the petite warrior is captured and taken to their arena, where she learns that she has been chosen to become the tribe’s latest broodmare and must now face off against every healthy male orc of the tribe in a battle/mating ritual. In the process, it emerges that her hatred of the orcs masks other, more shameful feelings, and as the brawny, well-hung monsters overwhelm her and roughly have their way with her, she finds herself wracked with bliss the likes of which she has never felt before.

Leseprobe

Monstrous Penetrations 2

Monster Erotica 4-Book Bundle

By Nixie Fairfax

CONTENTS

The Ultimate Sensation

Caught

Intrusion

Orced Raw

The Ultimate Sensation

By Nixie Fairfax

Copyright 2018 by Nixie Fairfax

All rights reserved

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

This work contains explicit sexual content and is intended for adults only. All characters in this work are 18 years of age or older.

“Fuck, I’m beat,” groaned Mitzi O’Shea, who sat slumped in the passenger seat of the Jeep as it roared down Route 1 on the small tropical island nation of Vilau. This stretch of Route 1 cut through the edge of the dense jungle that filled the island’s interior, and despite recommendations not to take this road after dark due to some ill-defined “hazards” (presumably wild animals or fallen branches in the road), Mitzi and her friend and fellow globe-trotting heiress Jasmine Bonner had decided to chance it anyway; they had been up half the night at a wild soiree at the mansion of the local Minister of Trade’s sybaritic son, and they were eager to get back to their hotel. After spending a moment watching the ragged eaves of the jungle flash past in the Jeep’s headlights, Mitzi glanced at Jasmine, who sat in the driver’s seat, the steering wheel in one hand, a half-empty bottle of champagne in the other. “I don’t know how the hell you do it.”

“Do what?”

“Everything. All this intense, crazy living you do. I mean, fuck, you spend all day surfing and scuba diving and jet skiing—and now this thing with the fire walking—and then you party like mad till four in the morning, drinking and dancing and fucking.” She grinned at Jasmine. “I mean, how many guys have you fucked since you got to the island?”

“I don’t keep count of things like that, Mitzi.”

“Probably cuz you can’t count that high.”

Jasmine shot her friend a wry smile.

“You calling me a whore? Cuz, you know, there’s that saying about pots and kettles.”

“No. It’s cool. I mean, there’s nothing wrong with it. It’s just, I don’t know how you can keep going like that all the time. I’ve been trying to keep up with you, but…” She shook her head and sighed. “You wear me out. Just like all those poor guys. By the time you’re warming up, I’m ready for bed.”

“I’m…” Jasmine paused, head cocked in thought. “I guess you could say I’m looking for something.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“My life is kind of like a quest. I’m seeking the greatest thrill imaginable. The most intense pleasure. The ultimate sensation that surpasses all others. I’ve been looking all my life, everywhere I go, everything I do.” She shrugged. “I’ll probably never find it. It’s probably one of those quests that has no end. But it’s been a hell of a ride so far.”

“It’s a hell of an exhausting one if you ask me. I guess I’m just not driven enough.”

Jasmine chuckled and glanced at Mitzi.

“You should try to—”

“Look out!”

Jasmine looked at the road again just in time to see a huge, dark shape shamble out of the shadowy jungle and onto the road right in front of them. In the fan of light from the headlights, she had a quick glimpse of a massive humanoid figure covered in shaggy hair, a furry face that seemed as much animal as man, a pair of dark, intense eyes boring into hers. She wrenched the steering wheel to the right. Tires squealing, they swerved onto the berm. The Jeep jounced over rocks and roots. In the windshield the jungle was rocketing toward them, especially a huge old banyan big enough to turn the Jeep into a ball of tinfoil. Screaming, Jasmine twisted the steering wheel again, and they slued back onto the road, the tires giving another brief squeal as she slammed on the brakes. The Jeep came to a halt aslant the yellow line in the middle of the road.

Heart banging like a tom-tom, her breath coming in deep, rapid gasps, Jasmine looked herself over. She was unharmed. So was Mitzi. She turned in her seat and looked at the road behind them, which was dimly lit by the backglow from the Jeeps’ headlights and taillights and by the half-moon overhead.

The only trace of their close encounter was the Jeep’s skid marks, veering off the asphalt like the strokes of a giant black crayon. Otherwise the road was empty.

“What the fuck was that?” said Mitzi, who had likewise turned in her seat to look at the road. “Did we run over it? There were bumps.”

“I think that was just the Jeep driving over the rocks.”

“Maybe we should get out and check.”

“I…” Jasmine scanned the foliage on either side of the road. She suddenly felt sure they were being watched. She remembered those piercing eyes, and she shifted uneasily in her seat, feeling vulnerable, naked. “Let’s just get out of here,” she said, already stepping on the gas.

She was a little afraid the Jeep might have gotten damaged in the chaos, but it accelerated smoothly down the road. Jasmine watched the scene of the incident recede in the rearview mirror as if she expected that hulking shape to reappear again at any moment.

“What do you think that was?” Mitzi said.

“It almost looked like some kind of big bear.”

“I don’t think they have bears in the South Pacific.”

“I said it looked like one. I don’t know, maybe it was some kind of monkey?”

“The only monkeys on the island are teensy little things the size of dolls. It’s not like they have gorillas here.”

“No.”

They exited the jungle and began to cross the lowland that led to Niouka, the island’s capital. The lights of the small seaside city appeared in the distance, familiar, safe. Jasmine breathed a small, silent sigh of relief that they had made it out of the jungle without further mishap. As the mass of greenery shrank behind them the sense of being watched and her vague feeling of foreboding slowly faded.

Mitzi suddenly sat bolt upright in her seat.

“Oh, fuck!” she exclaimed. “I bet I know what it was.”

“What?”

“The Panlopa!”

Jasmine just scoffed.

“Hey, it fits the facts,” Mitzi protested. “Big. Humanoid. Covered in shaggy black hair. Lives in the jungle.”

“Oh, come on! That’s just a myth. Like Bigfoot or something. Nobody’s ever seen one for real.”

“We just did.”

“We saw something. I for one didn’t get the clearest look at it. It could’ve been a lot of things.”

Mitzi folded her arms and cocked an eyebrow. “Like what?”

Jasmine shrugged, at a loss. But only for a moment.

“It was probably one of the natives.”

Now it was Mitzi’s turn to scoff.

“Last time I looked the natives were not gigantic and covered in hair, Jasmine.”

“No, but they dress up for their rituals and stuff. They put on those big grass skirts that could be mistaken for fur. And remember those masks those guys were wearing at that festival last week? Those giant wooden masks with the fringes of leaves? In that kind of getup—or something very similar—someone could easily be mistaken for a big hairy monster.”

Mitzi eyed her thoughtfully for a second, then turned and looked at the road behind them. The jungle was just an uneven mass of blackness on the horizon now.

“Maybe,” she mumbled.

* * *

Jasmine was in a weird mood the next day. Unsettled. Distracted. The incident in the jungle had shaken her in some deep way she didn’t entirely understand. She couldn’t stop thinking about those penetrating eyes. That dark, hulking form.

Weirdest of all, rather than drown herself in activity, her usual cure-all, she felt compelled to spend the day alone. Mitzi had gone away for the weekend to visit one of her expatriate boyfriends, and though Jasmine had a whole itinerary of activities planned, she wound up just hanging around the hotel all day.

That afternoon, as she sat sipping a toddy on the outdoor patio attached to the hotel’s bar, that feeling of being watched returned. She tried to shrug it off and convince herself it was just nerves, but the feeling only grew stronger and stronger. She was about to gulp down the rest of her drink and retreat to her room when, glancing up, she saw that she really was being watched. At the far end of the patio a man stood staring at her, a little old native man with gray hair and brown skin and a seamed, apple-doll face. He was dressed in the manner of many of the less prosperous natives: a humble white tunic and a multicolored sarong-like skirt. Slung on a strap over one bony shoulder was a large, bulging cloth sack. The man didn’t move, didn’t try to approach her. He just kept staring, a tiny, cryptic smile on his wrinkled face.

Jasmine adopted her best standoffish face and continued sipping her drink without sparing the old geezer another glance, figuring he would soon take the hint and scram. But he didn’t. He just kept standing there, minute after minute, openly eyeballing her, that little smile never wavering.

As she often did when faced with something that made her uncomfortable, she decided to confront the source of her discomfort head-on. She pushed away from the table, stood up, and strode right over to the little man. He watched her approach calmly, his expression never changing, not even when she was looming over him, her hands on her hips. She stood over a full head taller than him.

“Can I help you with something?” she asked coolly.

His smile widened into a grin, and he reached into the sack. Jasmine stiffened, suddenly afraid he would pull out a machete or a gun or something. Vilau was regularly ranked as one of the safest countries on the planet, but that didn’t mean it was completely devoid of weirdoes and the occasional violent crime.

But instead of a weapon, the hand emerged holding a crude, blocky Panlopa figurine carved from a coconut, the coir serving as the creature’s hair. A pair of small black stones had been embedded in the carving’s face to serve as eyes. Jasmine had seen figurines like these on the doorsteps of huts and in roadside shrines all around the island. Some of the more enterprising locals also sold them to tourists, along with Panlopa T-shirts, Panlopa photos (which looked more like blurry shots of artfully arranged foliage), and even “genuine” Panlopa hair, supposedly collected from sites in the jungle where the beast-man liked to hang out, but more likely clipped from the seller’s armpit that very morning.

Grin broadening, the native man held up the statuette. In the process the mouth of his sack fell open, revealing over a dozen more of the things.

“You like Panlopa, pretty lady?” the man said in an accent so thick she could barely understand him. “You want Panlopa for you? Only two dollar.”

Jasmine breathed out a little laugh, as much in relief at the innocuousness of the encounter as in amusement at its nature. Just another local who had taken the West’s capitalistic ways to heart.

“Thanks,” she said, “but I don’t really need one.”

“Panlopa good for you!” he insisted, waving the idol in her face. “He bring you goodness! Only two dollar.”

“I…” She sighed. She had dealt with enough native salesmen to know that with contact already established—and by her no less—it would be easiest just to buy the damn thing. Otherwise she’d never get rid of him. “All right.” She dug into her pocket and pulled out two klats, the local currency. Handing him the money, she took the carving.

“You make good!” the man beamed, the money disappearing into his pocket in an eyeblink. “You like Panlopa, guaranteed!”

“Or my money back, huh?”

He paused, looking concerned. Then he shook his head and gestured at the figurine. “No, no. No need for that. No problem with Panlopa. You see. No problem.”