A Goth Girl and the Three Wise Fuckers
- 3 years ago
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Diane walked into the front room of her apartment, blinking the sleep out of her eyes and smoothing her fingers through her blonde locks. After three weeks of a hard push at work, she finally had a long weekend as a reward, and she was determined not to sleep it away. That didn’t mean she was awake enough to start breakfast, though. She picked up the remote to the television and sat down.
A moment later, she screamed when the couch suddenly tilted forward, and to the left.
Upon catching her balance - and her breath - she muttered, “What the hell?” Sure enough, when she got down on her knees and looked, one of the legs had broken off the couch.
The last couple of weeks had been filled with such small disasters. The day before, the showerhead had fallen off as soon as she turned on the water. The coffee maker had fallen victim to the curse the day before that. From broken heels to leaking pens, it had seemed as if the world was conspiring to drive her even crazier while she battled exhaustion from work.
Well, I’m awake now, she thought. The fright had chased the last vestige of drowsiness from her in a split second, so off to the kitchen she went.
After breakfast, there was one task that couldn’t be ignored any longer. She’d put on her last pair of comfortable panties before going to bed. There were a few racier garments left in the drawer, but those were for special occasions, and not everyday use. The laundry needed to be taken care of before she could truly begin to enjoy her long weekend.
She carefully checked the hoses on the washer before turning it on. A loose one spraying water everywhere had been the first of the string of disasters, and she really didn’t want a repeat of that. Once the first load was in, she returned to the front room to see if there was anything she could do about the couch while she waited on the washer.
Along the way, the sight of a package sitting on the table changed her mind. It was from her grandmother, and had arrived while she was at work the day before. Curiosity overwhelmed her. She picked it up and took it to a chair, where she sat down slowly, wary of a repeat of the couch trying to dump her in the floor.
The tape yielded to her nails without much trouble, and the first thing she saw was a handwritten note from her grandmother.
When I called the other day and you told me about your string of bad luck, I knew you would need this. Keep an open mind and trust your grandmother, Diane. Blessed be, the note read.
Though the family didn’t speak of it, everyone knew that her grandmother practiced Wicca, and had picked up the craft from her own mother, who had in turn learned it from her mother. Diane’s aunt and mother had broken the long-running string, but her grandmother had been trying to influence her for years in hopes of reviving the family tradition in the next generation. Diane shook her head and chuckled while she looked to see what else was inside.
Beneath the note were several purple cloth-wrapped bundles. Each had a D stitched into it with silver thread, facing upward, demonstrating that they were gifts meant for her to keep. When she unfolded the first, she found a white candle that her grandmother had no doubt made herself. She could smell vanilla and other enticing scents when she brought the candle to her nose. The remaining bundles were three similar candles as well as four brass holders.
Upon removing all the candles, Diane saw the lid of a beautifully carved wooden box with a silver latch and hinges. As with the cloth wraps, her initial was carved into the center of the lid. Inside the shallow box, sitting on a purple velvet cushion, were five white crystals. They were semi-transparent, and caught flickering rainbows of light within their facets.
The box was beautiful, and the candles smelled wonderful, so she appreciated the gift, even if not in the way her grandmother had intended.
In the very bottom of the box was a thin, hand-bound book. It was a little larger than a hardcover novel, and the binding was covered in purple cloth stitched with strange symbols on the borders, surrounding her initial in the middle. Diane lifted the book from the box, opened it, and gasped in surprise.
The last thing she’d ever have expected to see in a gift from her grandmother was a detailed drawing of a naked man. Of course, it wasn’t just any naked man. His skin was a rosy, magenta color for one thing. He also had horns and pointed ears sticking out of long, black hair. Despite these strange features, he had a handsome face and a lean, muscled body. His unusually large penis was drawn erect, and flowers in a vase next to him seemed to be there to indicate a scale of perhaps two inches high. At the top of the page, in flowing, calligraphic script was the word Gremlins.
After recovering from her initial shock, she looked closer. The page had been copied from another book, picking up the signs of aging in the paper in the original. The text below the header appeared to be in the same hand, though less embellished. Made curious, she began to read.
Gremlins were described as distantly related to the Fey, such as Fairies, Pixies, and Sylphs. They were supposed to be impossibly fast, and invisible to people unless they wished to show themselves, or were compelled to do so. While generally benevolent, this sometimes changed when the creatures were provoked.
The indications that one had gremlins living within the home were all too familiar to Diane over the last couple of weeks. When upset, the creatures were said to sabotage things in the night to vex the homeowner. That certainly explained why her grandmother had sent her the book.
The next sign of gremlins taking up residence made her blush - and wonder.
Ever since she’d moved into her new apartment a few months before, she’d been having wonderfully intense orgasms whenever she masturbated. They were accompanied by fantasies that seemed to take on a life of their own, filled with handsome, virile men she’d never seen before. It had encouraged her to pleasure herself even more frequently than she had when she first explored her body years ago.
The book listed that very thing as an indicator of gremlins. The creatures were said to delight in a woman’s pleasure, and feed their own bliss into her, creating a loop of ever-increasing ecstasy that culminated in exactly the type of orgasms she’d been experiencing. A sudden lack of that stimulation was said to be the most common reason gremlins went rogue.
Diane looked away from the book and thought. The string of mini disasters had started shortly after the long, hectic days at work had kicked in. She’d come home each night so exhausted that she almost always dropped straight to sleep upon crawling into bed. In that entire time, she could only remember masturbating twice. Upon thinking about that, she realized that both of those times, nothing had gone haywire the following day.
This can’t be real, she thought. The words rang hollow in her head, though. The book was describing everything she’d experienced recently in eerie detail, and compelled her to read on.
What followed was a ritual to capture the gremlins, and force them to leave the home. It required four white candles, and five white crystals, explaining everything else her grandmother had included in the box. The bait that lured the gremlins into the trap was the woman masturbating. Once trapped, the creatures became visible, and all that was required was to order the creatures from the home, and they would leave, never to return.
Diane’s gaze darted from the book to what she thought was movement in her peripheral vision. She had the overwhelming feeling that someone was watching her. Every dancing shadow and small sound made her start.
This has to be a joke, she thought. As quickly as the thought occurred, she knew it was wrong. Her grandmother would never do something like this as a prank, no matter how implausible the whole thing seemed.
It was too much to deal with, and Diane snapped the book shut. She shook her head and stood, determined to forget the whole thing.
It didn’t work.
She managed to go through the motions of a normal day long enough to transfer the load of laundry from the washer to the dryer, and that was it. She found herself standing in front of the table where she’d left the contents of the package, staring down at the book and arcane instruments.
I can’t believe I’m even considering this. I must be going crazy.
As she had a dozen times since reading the book, she turned toward an imagined sound and searched every nook and cranny for its source, only to see nothing.
There’s only one way to prove it’s not real, she thought when she looked at the book again. Just do it, and when nothing happens, you’ll know Grandma is going senile.
It made sense. Of course, so did assuming her grandmother wasn’t in her right mind, without going through the ritual. That was even more reasonable. Yet she was drawn to the book. She had to make a considerable effort to not reach down, pick it up, and peruse the pages again. After fighting the urge for a few seconds, she surrendered.
There wasn’t much to the ritual. Make the room dark. Place the candles at the four corners of the bed. Place the crystals around the bed in a pentacle pattern. Light the candles, creating a between of light and shadow, then lie down and draw the creatures in.
I could put two of the candles on the nightstands, and the other two on t.v. trays, she thought. If I close the door and hang a blanket over the window, that should make it dark enough.
The little bits of problem solving were the breaking point. Part of her was still trying to pretend it was ridiculous, and to forget all about it, but deep down, she’d already made a decision. She was going through with it.
Diane packed the items back into the box to make them easier to carry, and headed toward the bedroom. She sat the box down, and then returned to the front room for a candle lighter and the t.v. trays. When they were set up at the foot of the bed, she opened the box again.
It’s just a game, like when you played with the Ouija board in college, she thought while removing everything from the box. Just do it, and then laugh at how silly it is when nothing happens.
Soon enough, the candles rested in their holders, and the crystals were arranged. Then, she hung a blanket over the window and closed the door. When she shut off the overhead light for a moment, it confirmed that the room was nearly as dark as night. Once the candles were flickering, releasing a warm scent of vanilla and spice, Diane turned out the light for the final time and beheld the scene.
The only thing missing was the sacrificial virgin.
After taking a deep breath, Diane carefully crossed the room to her bed and climbed in. She felt incredibly self-conscious as she lay on the bed in the candlelight, and couldn’t bring herself to undress. The book hadn’t said anything about that, though. Reaching a compromise, she parted her legs and reached between them to rub her folds through her shorts.
Her fingers moved at a slow, methodical pace while her eyes roamed the room. She squinted into the darkness, seeking any sign of movement amidst the dancing shadows cast by the candles. The faint whoosh of the air-conditioning flowing through the vent was the only sound that broke the silence.
Nothing was happening.
Or rather, nothing was happening so far as the ritual was concerned. Something else was certainly happening. It had been a week since she’d masturbated, and even the tiny bit of stimulation was sparking a fire. A brief, quiet moan escaped her, and she rubbed a little harder.
Her breathing picked up. Her fingers moved faster. After a minute or so, thoughts of the ritual faded into the background, drowning in a sea of need. She caressed her breasts through her t-shirt and could feel how stiff her nipples were. The hand between her legs slid higher, and then beneath the waistband of her shorts. She gasped when she touched her sex through the thinner material of her panties.
There was no turning back. In a rush of arousal, she pushed down her shorts, tugged up her top to free her breasts, and gave in to a week’s worth of pent-up need. Her fingers slid between her nether lips and she moaned again while drawing the slippery digits up to her clit. The first touch of the swollen bud made her whimper.
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First I thanks Indian sex stories for publishing my story then Happy New Year-2016 to all the readers of ISS. I am Honey now aged 18 Yrs. married to my child hood incest lover my Uncle only 22 Yrs. Old and an Engineer by profession.In our caste married to uncles son is neither taboo nor incest but marrying Uncle is some how incest in the family and all took decision to give our marriage as I was pregnant with my Uncle’s child and both of us left our home with huge wealth and settled near Munar...
IncestRaghav and I had been friends for more than ten years. Both married and both happy with our families! I was a closeted gay… and i somehow suspected that he was one too – though he never gave any hint about it from the way he lived. Yet his unexplained disappearances from gatherings, unknown young men smiling and waving at him and his obvious disinterest in any woman other than his wife made me wonder if he really was that straight or was there something more to him! I was member of the famous...
Gay MaleI really can’t say I know when it started exactly, and I suppose one could present a number of reasonable theories as to the ‘whys’, but I’ve always had a thing for panties. Perhaps it’s best summed up in the old adage: It’s the closest thing to pussy.At a fairly young age, I discovered the magic of humping my mattress. It’s doubtful that I was truly aware of what I was doing, but I distinctly recall thinking that I’d pissed my sheets the first few magical times I brought myself to orgasm. My...
Hi friends! You know I am feeling very good after sharing my life with you. As you know, I am now involved in physical relation with my daughter’s tutor, my skin has started glowing again as my sexual desires are getting fulfilled and my holes are getting drilled by Sushil’s pole. From novice, he has turned into an awesome fucker. We were fucking in hotels, Sushil’s house, very rarely at my house as I don’t want Sonia to get any hint. It was nearly six months that we have shifted to...
Hello friends, I am Roma, an incest lover. This is my maiden sattempt to tell my story of my fuck with my horny father in law. Hope you like my story. Please send your feedback at My name is Roma Chauhan, a 32 years old woman. I was married to Raman when I was 20. Raman works in his father’s business. Despite our best efforts I could not bear a child. My sex life has been ok. But now Raman has started spending all the time in making money. Last year my husband insisted that I go and live in my...
Hello all my sex-e girls and fucker boys. I m vivaan from mumbai. I have been referring iss from long and decided to share my real life adventure over here. I am 22 years old living a luxurious life in mumbai. Getting sex has nw become a daily practice. Bt first experience is always the most memorable one. This is an incident that took place 3yrs ago. I was basically amongst gud luking and also had enough money to spend everyday. Mostly i would go to pub and enjoy drinks and ciggy etc.For me...
By: Suraj1n1ly Hi all, I’m Surya living in Chennai, I’m a regular reader of ISS and today I felt like sharing my story to you all. Hope you’ll enjoy it, there is no masala or added imagination in it if you feel this story is good then please encourage me to write more by sending your feedbacks on Before I take you to my story let me introduce myself to you, I’m a 25 years old, young, dynamic entrepreneur, my height is 5.7 and I’m fair and average built body, with brown eyes, 6.5 inches is my...
Mother-Auntie FuckerBy Sonya EsperantoE-mail: [email protected] could not sleep. The whole night he had been listening to both his mother and aunt moaning and grunting all the way from the Master Bedroom. He had heard a lot of slappings too and name callings and lots and lots of loud screaming going on.He had been kept awake until the time his own mom would normally wake him up for school. He looked at the clock on the bedside table near his bed.It was 6AM. ...
I used to travel with truck drivers. They are a very different type of species! Brash, arrogant loudmouths, hard drinking and even harder fucking fuckers!They measure their success rate by the number of "strikes" they make, the number of strokes in the fucking and the length of their cocks which are generally around 8" to 10" long, 2" to 3" thick and generally circumcised. They pick up girls who are referred as "Khiladis" One of the trips was particularly memorable as the fellow, Vaanara Singh,...
EroticAuthor’s Note 2: Although this fantasy can be read independently, it was written as part of a series. For full enjoyment, please read “The Barbie Lez Fantasies: Week 1-97”. *** Have you ever had one of those fantasies? You know, the ones that feel so real you begin to wonder if you are actually imagining them. Well, I do… because I have them all the time! Sometimes, they turn into a story, but mostly they remain trapped inside my brain. That is, until now… I believe in aliens. I know...
My reputation for being a slut had spread around uni and i started living up to it, wearing slutty clothes and loving the attention. so it was my mates hen night and we had gone to bristol for a night out. i was ment to be sharing a room with my mate becky. It had been a long night of drinking and drugs and it was a great night. but then becky got into a fight with some girls ( i never did find out what it was about) but anyway she wanted to go home. Our train wasnt till 7pm the next day...
“Don’t look at me,” she whined, covering her breasts with one arm, and clamping her legs together. “Turn out the light.” I shook my head. “No, Baby, I like looking at you. Just the way you are. Now open up… surrender the pink.” She moved her legs apart, revealing more of her crotch. I reached down and lifted one of her knees, pulling it up and pushing it back toward her. Her pussy lips appeared, swollen and wet. I moved forward, letting the head...
Introduction: Virgin daughter and MILF mother have sex in front of father! Lesbian. Virgin. Nymphomaniac. Seemingly eclectic, all those words could be used to describe Barbie Lez. But the word most often used to designate this tight-bodied eighteen-year-old was hot. And sometimes even fucking hot! But Barbie did not care about her appearance. At least, she had not for the past few days. Her father had recently suffered a heart attack and the doctor had made it clear that his life was now in...
Introduction: A quick and kinky lesbian fantasy! Authors Note 1: These short fantasies started off as weekly mini-stories for my readers, but the newsletter was shut down because autoresponders do not accept adult content. I thus decided to publish these fantasies for free for my readers to enjoy. It is meant to entertain, so please do not leave hateful comments if everything is not perfect. I am only human after all. Authors Note 2: Although this fantasy can be read independently, it was...
My name is Sarah and I live in northern Winnipeg, with my two overprotective parents. It was Friday night, and they drove me to my friends house for a birthday sleepover. They watched me set my bags down on the front porch to ring the doorbell, and left only when someone had greeted me, and I had entered the house. I had lots of fun at the sleepover and, late in the night, we all eventually tired and decided to sleep. I headed over to where everyones bags are, only to find that mine isnt...
Thx for reading my story! Please feel free to add chapters and also feel free to comment on chapters you like. I love the feedback and idea you give me. (I try to send a thank you to all commenters) " What are you looking at? Perv..." Jack's milf neighbor asked him with a sneer as he walked past her. He was heading to college like every morning of the week and like every one of them, The MILF next door was Sunbathing on her front lawn. Jack couldn’t help but give a glance every time at her...
Mind Control