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Story Notes:

I never finish my stories, so here's a poll to see which one I should complete: 

http://www.polljunkie.com/poll/ykdnnb/spookytacos-next-story

Thanks!

Author's Chapter Notes:

I've already written a few chapters of this story so I'll post them regardless. In a couple weeks, I'll see about switching to whatever gets the most votes.

 

Nothing would interrupt Uri’s mission to experience her first orgasm.

It was Saturday afternoon, her death metal was turned off, and her phone was silenced. Mom had taken Bee to ballet, and they wouldn’t be home for a couple hours. Unless the house spontaneously caught fire, she wouldn’t be distracted.

Though, she had to admit, he was distracting.

Something inside her had melted when she’d first laid eyes on him in the pet store, and she wasn’t the type to melt. His name, Falcon, had been sketched onto an index card beside his cage, but she could change it to anything she wanted. She owned him — legally — and the knowledge warmed her veins like a drug. Not that she did drugs. (Anymore).

She pulled her panties down at the sides and let them dangle from the gusset, amusingly plastered to her sticky skin. Eventually, gravity won. They peeled away and fell to the floor, landing in a heap at her feet. She stepped out of the circle of dark-colored garments, and placed pale hands on equally pale hips, posing both for the mirror and her new pet.

Technically what she was doing was legal, but just barely. The state of Kansas had only recently condoned intimacy with homunculi, but it had to be ‘consensual’ and no harm should occur to either participant. Many of her classmates had secretly experimented with homunculi already. Her best friend, Kendel, had even recommended the purchase, though in all honesty she would’ve bought one regardless. Hell, she would’ve bought one a year ago, but it had taken her that long to save. The good ones were anything but cheap.

The borderline illicitness fed her arousal. In spite of her status as a homunculi virgin among her peers, it was still taboo among her parent’s generation. The way she’d been raised, the thin strands of morality that still bound her conscience — they all clamoured for her to stop. But the heart wants what it wants. Wasn’t that how the saying went?

She supposed her shameful desire made her a ‘bad girl’, ultimately just another cliché. Yet it was one that she, a typical goth rebel, didn’t mind. Obviously, she’d die if this particular aspect became public, but she needn't worry. He’d never tell a soul simply because he couldn’t speak.

“So, whaddya think?” Her eyes locked onto the teal creature standing on her desk. He too was naked, but in no way did this aid with her ability to read him. He merely stood erect, head bowed, golden eyes aimed upward to meet her gaze.

“ゃ,” he said.

Cute!

It wasn’t a meow, a mewl, or anything she could pronounce. She likened it to an anime ‘nyan’ with varying degrees of length, emphasis, and staccato. Sometimes it morphed into other non-words. Maybe. It was just as cute as fuck, and that’s all that mattered.

She stepped forward, swaying her hips, trying to match the gentle sway of his tail. Then she stooped, lowering her face directly in front of him.

You, Mr. Falcon, are my new dildo.” Her nose nuzzled against his muscled chest as her tongue extended outward. She licked him from smooth crotch to handsome face, tasting the mild watermelon hand soap she’d lathered him with earlier.

Of course, it was a lie.

She had no intention of harming him, and she certainly wasn’t about to stuff him inside her. First of all, he was way too expensive. Second, she couldn’t fathom harming such an impossibly delightful creature. Last, at roughly four inches tall, he likely wouldn’t satisfy her or anyone for that matter.

She just liked saying the words because it made her horny. Yes, she was a pervert, but she’d come to terms with it a long time ago.

She licked again, this time starting from his knees. Her tongue stud traveled over his six-pack abs and lingered at his collarbone, then pushed forward. She noted the impressive way he maintained his balance, leaning into her oral appendage. He could run away, but she’d simply use her phone app to immobilize and locate him, and he probably knew it. She owned him in every sense of the word.

Furthermore, he was trained to be comfortable around humans, or at least not fear them. Unlike the others she’d held at the store, Falcon didn’t seek to cuddle like an attention-starved puppy. Nor did he hide. He’d approached her with an air of neutrality, as if he could care less about being purchased. She’d found the quality attractive. She didn’t want to take him against his will, but at the same time she did. His dispassionate attitude seemed compatible with the waxing and waning of her own conflicting emotions — her general tendency to isolate, her less frequent platonic desire for companionship, and her secret erotic need to utterly dominate.

She pushed him backwards with her index finger, until his ‘heels’ touched the desk. Homunculi looked human except their feet resembled the hind legs of a cat — pawed, clawed, and angled upward as if wearing high heels. They also had pointy ears, light pink or blue skin, and a slightly different internal organ composition. For example, they had two hearts.

Oh, and no penis. Or rather, both humi and femi (slang for homunculi and femunculi) had what she considered to be a hairless vagina. Ok, they were quite different from humans, but otherwise, Falcon could’ve been Zac Efron’s teenage brother. Yes, he was that much of a hottie. Oh, and had she mentioned expensive?

She kept pushing until his back met the outside of his cage. His chest compressed where her finger touched, sparking a twinge of electricity between her legs.

“So weak and helpless.” Her mere finger had overpowered his entire body. For all is muscles, he stood no chance against her smallest digit. If she decided to continue pushing, he’d start having trouble breathing. Eventually, he’d die.

Her right hand encircled him, slowly, careful to ensure his tail protruded between her fingers and his arms were free. She crawled onto her bed and reclined against her pillows, using her free hand to play with her nipples. Her butt rested on a thick towel she’d placed over her sheets.

“I bet you want to escape.” She gave him a light squeeze. “But you can’t. I’m way, way stronger than you. Why don’t you try? Try to escape little one.”

The words felt so fake as they rolled off her tongue, like the script to a Bollywood movie. They didn’t describe her true personality whatsoever, but they did increase her arousal. She didn’t understand how or why her brain reacted as it did, she just went with it.

And, to her utter surprise, he went with it too.

He wriggled inside her hand, obviously trying to escape. His muscular legs bumped against her fingers, causing her grip to instinctively tighten. His futile struggles and her continued ministrations opened a virtual current of electricity between her chest and lower abdomen.

“Uhhhgh...”

Had that sound come from her throat? She never moaned while masturbating.

Her free hand cupped between her thighs as if exploring herself for the first time. It was certainly the first time she’d felt this way so quickly. Sure, she’d had sex before, but she’d never experienced an orgasm, or at least what Kendel had described as one. Her body had always idled on pleasantly full while her boyfriend — ex-boyfriend — made ridiculous faces above her.

Now, by simply gripping her pet, she’d already exceeded her peak experiences, venturing into uncharted territory.

“Yes!” She squeezed him harder. “Keep trying!”

His little fists pounded the upper part of her index finger, each impact causing her stomach to pulse with delicious warmth. Then, he dug his sharp fingernails into her skin. She winced, but he didn’t draw blood. Somehow the pain had an opposite effect, making her pussy clench. His strongest attack had amounted to less than a paper cut, highlighting the vast gap between their capabilities.

“I’m so, so much stronger and smarter than you.” Her breath shortened.

Her hand, the one down below, slid around in feverish, sloppy circles. Something big approached, but she didn’t know exactly how to proceed, how to welcome it with open arms. If she chose wrongly it would escape, and given her track record, she’d choose wrongly. But if she did nothing...

Desperate, she dropped her captive between her breasts.

“Please me or I will devour you,” she said. “I’ll bite your head off your shoulders and suck the blood straight from your gaping neck.”

Wrong choice. The roller coaster ratcheted backwards and her pet merely stood there, tail swishing, soft eyes drilling into her head.

“You’d better do something.” She glared at him. “Or I’ll fucking kill you.”

Ok, now she was just repeating herself. Even a monkey could see through her hollow threats and Falcon was no different. He stood there, fearless, head tilted slightly to the side as if trying to understand. The only thing she was killing was her own arousal.

“Fuuuck!” She withdrew her soaked hand from her agitated pussy and slapped it on a part of sheets not covered by her towel. Her chest heaved with each breath, but her pet maintained his balance with ease.

Where had she gone wrong? Dominating him made her feel horny, but too much domination had the opposite effect. Or maybe it was because she’d switched too much into goth-serial-killer mode, her standard facade in school and life in general. It had served her well as a defense mechanism, but today, it seemed like the absolute wrong tool for the job.

Falcon turned around and padded slowly down the expanse of her relatively flat stomach.

Such a cute butt, she thought.

Cute? It normally wasn’t a word she used, ever, but this little guy somehow made her gush with girly vibes harder than a mindfucked teen at a 5sos concert. Uri always assumed she had nothing in common with her nauseatingly-sweet lemming of a sister, but ever since setting eyes on Falcon, she questioned if they might share some genetics after all.

“Sorry Falc.” She absently rubbed her sticky fingers together as he neared her belly button. “Ship’s sailed and isn’t coming back. You’re adorable, but I’m destined to be a sexually frustrated pervert for the rest of my life.”

Apparently undeterred, he walked over her unshaven mons and hopped down between her legs. She could only see his head from this angle, but for once, he no longer seemed to be focused on her eyes. Instead, he seemed to be leaning forward as if inspecting something.

“I know it’s not as pretty as yours, but — ”

She inhaled sharply as something wet and raspy made contact. Was it his tongue? It had to be. He was actually licking her! In all of the research she’d done on homunculi, no where had she read anything about them giving oral, at least not voluntarily. And she hadn’t physically forced him, so it wasn’t illegal, right?

“That’s nice.” She let her head loll backwards onto her pillows and closed her eyes. It wasn’t nearly as much stimulation as her hand, but something about it coming from him made it almost as effective. She may not experience an orgasm today, but at least should could relax in mild high for the next hour.

His paws kneaded through her pubic hair as his tiny face inched deeper between her lips.

Nice indeed. Maybe mild would escalate to moderate. Maybe she just needed to stop trying so hard. Maybe that was the secret.

“Mmmm.” She licked her lips, as a minor gush pulsed through her insides. That’s what she called it, the incredibly horny feeling she’d get, usually at the most awkward times...in history class or riding in the back seat of her mom’s car. She called it gush because she knew she’d soon be wet, and she didn’t care because it felt so good. And because the word was just crass enough to match her unique sense of humor.

“You realize you’ll never finish.” It was true. He wouldn’t. She could almost feel her body secreting more of the mysterious fluid women secreted down there. She doubted squirting existed, in spite of the convincing lesbian porn she’d seen, but it was impossible to discount entirely. After all, something was making her wet, and it wasn’t pee.

Lazily, she brought her nearly dry hand to her nose. Her fingers didn’t smell like much of anything, and perhaps that’s what made it so erotic. Her brain desperately sought a smell, something to latch onto, but it eluded her. She licked her fingers. Again, nothing. Well, almost nothing. Slightly sweet and salty metal? That didn’t make sense. She was tempted to rewet her digits to confirm, but she didn’t want to disturb his activity down there.

His head had moved lower, likely finding the source of her moisture. He licked upward in long strokes, like a cat cleaning its fur. The beastial metaphor should disturb her, but it didn’t. She’d never let an animal lick there, but homunculi weren’t mere animals. Sure, they were pets, but they were extremely human-like. At least that’s how she and her friends thought of them. So in that sense —

“Ahh-uh!” She swallowed what felt like a fuzzy rainbow as the next gush hit. Her mouth remained slightly open as a slow, methodical pant pushed air in and out. What had he done? What was he doing? Her mind was having trouble focusing on the exact location of his tongue.

Don’t! Don’t focus. Don’t force it. That’s where you always go wrong.

The words, half her own thoughts and half the ramblings of her best friend, echoed in her head. What if she just stayed relaxed with these warm-tingly feelings? Assume the big O didn’t happen, at least she —

The sound of her own slightly labored breathing interrupted her thoughts. The last gush lingered, forming a new floor in her consciousness. Her clit, it was definitely clit, engorged as something sucked and massaged it. Tiny nails scraped her sensitive skin, and his tail weaved between her folds.

Something slender yet bumpy pressed into her. A second muscular appendage joined and...and...oh…

Pleasure exploded.

She gasped as the shallow pressure expanded inside her. She squeezed in response, overwhelming the pressure, but it scissored, crisscrossing in alternating directions, each time eliciting another blissful clench from her.

It was more than just pleasure. It was a sudden and irrefutable rightness.

Memories of her dad flashed through her mind: being lifted into the air on her fifth birthday, cuddling in his lap while watching a movie, the smell of his aftershave as he hugged her before heading to work. Indescribable feelings of warmth and safety, feelings she hadn’t experienced in forever, not since he’d left on his last tour of duty nearly a decade ago.

“にゃ”

Something bit down.

“Daddy!” She cried out as the frighteningly huge wave of emotion crested. For a split second that stretched, she teetered at the pinnacle, a euphoria so painful she knew she was about to die. Her body — her mind — wouldn’t be able to handle it.

With all semblance of control out the window, she descended, utter free fall. Squalls of mind-numbing bliss-pain twisted her body into tortured shapes of unbridled release. Muscles she didn’t know existed contracted, toes curled beyond what seemed possible, and her back arched like a gymnast.

The bed creaked and her hair slapped against her mouth and nose.

“Ahhhhhh-uh-uh...” She cried out incoherently as her body whipped up and down, mitigated only by the distant thought that she’d likely kill her pet. If he died, so be it. Attempting to stop the catharsis of bloody rainbows from her gut was futile.

As the stars winked out and control slowly returned to her consciousness, tears formed in her eyes and streamed down her cheeks. A peace unlike any she’d ever known settled over her mind like a warm blanket. Was this what it was like? Was this what it would always be like? She didn’t know if she could ever handle another like this one.

Another...

She’d finally had an orgasm! She couldn’t wait to tell Kendel.

“Uri— ” Kendel had said, a slight smirk on her face. “Once you experience one, you’ll know it.”

She couldn’t have been more right!

The surge of memories during her climax had disturbed her. It probably meant she had repressed daddy issues, but what girl didn’t nowadays? Her father had left to go off and die in some stupid war, so if she could use some sappy memories of him to get off, she sure as shit would. It was the least he could do.

Did it make her even more perverted? Of course. But it was worth it. Her body floated on cloud fucking ten, and the innate rightness completely drowned out the miniscule amount of guilt…

“Falcon!”

She bolted upright and scooted backwards.

He sat on the wet towel, licking his forearm as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“You little shit.” She extended her hand and he climbed on, standing in the center of her palm. “Don’t scare me like that.” She exhaled, mentally cursing him for ruining her post orgasmic haze.

He was a complete mess: sapphire hair plastered to his face, cum covering his everything below his chest, and the irrefutable smell of sex. Whatever he’d done down there he appeared to have made good use of his entire body. And all without drawing blood, neither hers nor his.

She leaned in and pecked him on the chest. “Best purchase ever.”

He opened his little mouth and her smile broadened as she prepared for another ‘nyah’. She could never hear it enough, especially since he didn’t abuse it nearly as much as some of them did. He seemed to know just the right time to —

“Onnnng.”

...

What the fuck? Was he hurt? That didn’t sound anything like —

“Onnngie.” His mouth worked slowly to form the syllables as if his tongue were numb. “Ongie.”

“Hungry?” She blinked.

He nodded fervently. “Ongie. ゃ. Faaaaaalkin ongie.”

“Y-you’re hungry.” Her mouth hung open as he nodded yet again.

“You can fucking talk?”

It took a while for his tongue to reach his top teeth to form the L. “Taaaaaalk. ゃ.”

She swallowed the rock of fucked-upness in her throat. Humi weren’t supposed to talk. Ever. Well, some did, but they were about as common and skilled as talking chimps. She’d never heard one actually say the word talk or hungry, and it scared the shit out of her.

Her gut panged with a feeling she’d experienced only once before. Betrayal.

She’d certainly never be able to use him again. Their entire relationship hinged on the fact that she owned him, and he could do nothing about it. If he could talk, even a little bit, he could expose her perversions for everyone to see. And why wouldn’t he? In a similar situation, she would. Anything to get revenge on her captor.

Her eyes blurred, moisture occluding the periphery of her vision.

“You”—she grabbed him around the torso with her free hand—“just did a very. Bad. Thing.”

 

Chapter End Notes:

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