The Monster Sex Experiment: Episode 8 E-Book

Nixie Fairfax

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

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2018

Beschreibung

It’s been a week since the abduction, and Liz is desperate to escape. She’s the main means of support for her ailing, debt-ridden family, and the longer she’s stuck here, the more likely it is they’ll face total ruination. Also, the more likely it is they’ll learn how she’s been paying the bills: as an escort. She swore she’d do anything and everything to help them…and she pretty much has. The mattress doesn’t stop squeaking in the latest industrious episode of The Monster Sex Experiment.

Leseprobe

THE MONSTER SEX EXPERIMENT

Episode 8

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.

TRIAL 8

The Subjects

Cell 1: Fiona Lewis

Cell 2: Katie Macintyre

Cell 3: Olivia Blucher

Cell 4: Megan Mobley

Cell 5: Maddie Pryce

Cell 6: Trisha Prentiss

Cell 7: Sarah Scott

Cell 8: Sophie Honeycutt

Cell 9: Lauren Schumacher

Cell 10: Jennifer Lau

Cell 11: Claire Eliot

Cell 12: Baylee Hutchins

Cell 13: Hannah Baker

Cell 14: Zoe Kensington

Cell 15: Sadie Honeycutt

Cell 16: Rebecca Blish

Cell 17: Abby Van Zandt

Cell 18: Liz Twotrees

Cell 19: Cat Ruiz

Cell 20: Emma Quigley

Slathered in monster cum, Megan lies on the floor of her cell, moaning softly as she masturbates, two fingers moving in ceaseless circles above her gaping, dripping pussy. The glaze of cum that covers her and the spreading pearly puddle on the floor around her are filled with the squirming black shapes of monstrous sperm who failed to reach Megan’s warm, inviting vagina in time and now writhe dying in the open air, their twists and twitches growing more sluggish by the second. But countless more found their way inside the teen, each of them determined to be the first to fertilize her.

Liz knows this because Liz saw the whole disgusting spectacle, some morbid and/or masochistic impulse compelling her to watch those eely shapes vanish into her classmate’s snatch like thousands of little hairs getting sucked down a drain. It doesn’t help that Megan is turned feet-first toward Liz, and hence cunt-first too. And though Liz isn’t exactly thrilled to have that wet, palpitating hole pointed at her like the barrel of a gun, at least it saves her from seeing Megan’s face, seeing the uncontrollable lust warping the blonde’s normally cool, collected countenance, more unsettling evidence that no one—no matter how strong, how determined—is proof against the power of the aphrodisiac gas.

Fiona. Katie. Olivia. Now Megan. The men in black and their monster proxies have already ravished their way around a fifth of the circle of girls. Maddie’s turn will be tomorrow, and Maddie is clearly feeling the stress: She’s watching her semen-soaked, clit-rubbing neighbor with revulsion and dread, her arms clasping her sides, her eyes flicking to the black doorway every so often as if she expects their captors to come for her a full day early.

A fifth of the way around the ring already. And still no hope of escape.

“We need to get the fuck out of here,” Liz says just loudly enough for Cat to hear in the cell to her left. Everyone here is fast becoming an expert in how to modulate their voice. These close-packed, clear-walled boxes leave them with less privacy than death-row inmates. Another good reason to get the fuck out.

“So you’ve said,” Cat says, equally softly. “Repeatedly. Still waiting on an actual plan, though.”

“We’ve been here almost a whole week now.” Liz’s voice is choked with frustration. “And we’re not any closer to finding a way out than we were when we got here.”

“Not entirely true,” Emma chimes in, having overheard Liz’s last few sentences thanks to Liz’s rising voice. “We’ve at least ruled out certain options. We’ve determined avenues not worth expending further effort on.”

“Sorry,” says Liz, “but that just sounds like a clever way of rationalizing failure.”

Emma’s lips press together into a thin white line, and she makes a small, disapproving noise.

“We’ve got time to figure something out, Liz,” Cat says. “I mean, at the rate these goons are going, it’ll be two weeks before they work their way around to us. That gives us plenty of time to think something up. Or for rescuers to figure out where we are and come gallivanting to the rescue.”

Liz shakes her head.

“It’s not getting fucked by a monster that’s the problem. Well, I mean, not that that’s something I’m looking forward to. But I need to get out of here. I have…responsibilities. My family.”

“Why? What’s up?”

“My mom and my brother—they have some major health problems. Expensive ones. I was helping to take care of them. In fact, I was pretty much the only financial support they had.” She shakes her head again. Tears sting her eyes, but she blinks them back. “God, a whole week. I can’t even imagine what’s going on with them at this point.”

“It might not be that bad,” says Abby, Liz’s other neighbor. To Liz’s scowling glance, Abby gives a small, apologetic smile. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but you were getting a little loud.”

“Yeah. Sorry.”

“But, no, the thing is, everybody’s gonna know we’re gone. They’ll be investigating our lives, our histories, our families, looking for clues to what happened to us. That might actually be a good thing for your family. It might bring attention to their troubles, you know, especially once people find out you were their only means of support.”

“I suppose…” Liz hadn’t thought about that before, and the idea fills her with some very mixed emotions. On the one hand, she feels a thrill of fugitive hope that Abby is right. She imagines her mom and brother’s ordeal attracting the attention of some wealthy philanthropist or inspiring an online fundraising effort that quickly generates bank vault–bursting levels of megabucks.

But on the other hand, any hope is overwhelmed by crushing panic at the thought of the cops and FBI and other agents of law and order digging into her private life. Would they check her computer, her online accounts?

Oh, God. If they find out what she’s been doing, how she’s been supporting her family, it might just make everything worse…

* * *

“I want my foxy block!” hollered Spenser Twotrees, Liz’s brother. His dark-brown eyes glimmered with tears. “I want my foxy block!”