Episodes

  • Jenna Goes To Chiurch: Part 1

    Jenna Goes To Chiurch: Part 1
    Nov 23 2024
    Jenna enjoys sexuality without shame, in the church. By Blacksheep. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. Jenna seduces the Vicar. St Michael's parish church was a charming place of worship that dated back to the 12th century. A quaint little church, the sort that one could see in countless towns and villages across England. Within its walls however, all was not well. Ill-feeling festered among some of the male members of the church, the vicar included. But God, in his great mercy and wisdom, saw fit to send a beautiful angel to this church, in order to bring happiness. And so, our story begins,Reverend Simon Morris was a vicar who hadn't gotten laid in a long time. Aged forty, he'd been at St Michael's for nearly three years now. He prided himself on the success he'd had in increasing the congregation of this little church. The previous vicar, Reverend Smith, had died very suddenly from a stroke back in 2019, leaving the community devastated. Reverend Morris knew he had big boots to fill. So far, God had been with him all the way. He'd steered the church through the Covid pandemic and defied orders to close it during the lockdowns. This action had earned him a lot of respect, not to mention he'd gained a few more loyal sheep who'd deserted other churches. There was just one area where God had been unable to help him - his sexless marriage. He'd been married to Lucy for nearly ten years now and they had a four year old son, Christopher. Unfortunately, it was shortly after Christopher's birth that the avenue of carnal pleasure was closed off to him. He'd tried everything to re-ignite the spark, but nothing worked. Now Christopher had started primary school, Reverend Morris had hoped that things would improve, but instead, he and Lucy drifted further apart. He kept up the appearance that everything was perfect, during the many social functions he had to hold at the vicarage. Inside however, his frustration threatened to overwhelm him. "O Lord God, who hast called thy servants to ventures of which we cannot see the ending, by paths as yet untrodden, through perils unknown: Give us faith to go out with a good courage, not knowing whither we go, but only that thy hand is leading us, and thy love supporting us; to the glory of thy Name. Amen." Reverend Morris said a quick prayer to himself as he shook hands with the last of the members of the congregation. He let out a sigh of relief. Another Sunday service had passed - with an increase in numbers. He looked at his watch. He had a brief few minutes to head to the vestry, change out of his cassock and surplice, and pop over to the church hall for tea and biscuits. The usual chit chat with his faithful flock. The nosy old ladies, Josh, the new and nervous curate, Yulia the Ukrainian refugee and her two young children, Amir and Majid, the Iranian brothers who'd fled persecution in their homeland due to being Christians, Debbie the single mother and Sunday school teacher, Tony the reformed drug addict, Mr. and Mrs. Norris, the church's resident do-gooders; a pair of boomers who made it their business to know more about the C of E than the Archbishop of Canterbury, Then there was Jenna Fox. Twenty, red haired and absolutely stunning. And too young for him. He'd spotted her in the congregation earlier, but not on the way out. Which could only mean, "Good morning Reverend!" Jenna said, bold as brass, sauntering out of the toilets, where she'd obviously been waiting for the others to depart. "Oh, good morning Jenna," Reverend Morris replied, staring at her and then quickly averting his eyes downwards. She was wearing attire that was barely suitable for church - a low cut black top and black pleated miniskirt. "I wore black today. For the Queen. Loved your sermon reflecting on her long reign. It was really touching." "Thanks. Glad you liked it. It's been hard to write. So, are you heading over to the church hall? I'll be there shortly." "Mmm, maybe later," she grinned. "Did you know Reverend, that you actually resemble Prince Edward a bit?" Feeling a little uncomfortable at how close she was, he felt color rise in his cheeks. "Uh, well thanks. I'll take that as a compliment! Do excuse me Jenna, I just have to ditch these vestments, then I shall be going to the hall." He hurried off to the vestry. In there, he looked at himself in the mirror. He was an average-looking bloke, not the sort that a stunning younger woman would lust after. "Well at least I'm much younger than Prince Edward." He smiled. Suddenly, the door opened. "You're not getting away from me this time Reverend," Jenna whispered, shutting the door behind her. Before he could say anything, she'd cornered him. Glancing into his pale blue eyes for a moment, she covered his lips with hers, feeling him tense up as her arms reached round his back. After a few seconds, he relaxed, as if he knew resistance of any kind was futile. Jenna could feel the heat of his body through his cassock. "I've wanted you ...
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  • Joan Finds God & Eros.

    Joan Finds God & Eros.
    Nov 23 2024
    Based on the legend of Pope Joan.By professor98. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. The following account is fiction, which is based on the well-documented Legend of Pope Joan, the first, and last female Pope of the Catholic Church.As this story took place in the ninth century of the Christian era, or Year of our Lord; many of the terms are from ancient languages. Words such as slitten, which is Old English for slit, and sheath, later referred to as ‘cunny’ or cunt. Although the specific accounts were not taken down on paper, the story refers to certain facts in which the legend was based.In the year of our lord, 823 A D, a girl, Joanna Wellen was born in a small village not far from Salisbury Plain in southern England. He mother died due to complications of the birth. As she grew, she would often visit Stonehenge, with her father who treated her with great love and affection. Stonehenge was a religious center, and an astronomical observatory; which lay not far from their village. It was used as a place of worship, especially by the surfs and peasants who were not allowed to attend Church.In those days in England and Europe for that matter, females were considered worthless and only good for birthing babies, cooking, scrubbing and cleaning for a man. They were not allowed to go to school, as society thought them incapable of learning.Joanna grew up as a scullery maid and worked on her Father's farm for years. From the time she learned to speak, Joan always wanted to learn about everything, so when she was fifteen and began to clean house for the village schoolteacher, they became friends and when she was not working, she begged him to teach her to read.As her father loved her very much, he had no complaints regarding her studies, and invited the schoolteacher for supper, four evenings a week in payment for teaching her.After several years, the schoolteacher, one Edmund Beddus was married to a fairly well to do somewhat older widow, Gwendolyn Vaughan, who's late husband was killed in a horseback ridding accident. It was not well known at the time; however he was drunk. As Edmund didn't earn much money, he jumped at the chance to marry Gwendolyn, mostly for her stature and wealth.After a while, Gwendolyn became angry due to the attention Edmund paid to Joan and threatened him with a divorce. Edmond ended his three-year relationship with the girl, and she had to return all of the books she had borrowed.The young village priest Father Paul had always seen Joan walking with a book in her hands and was taken with her beauty. One day he saw her passing the church, however she had no book. He called to her and said,"Are you no longer reading Joan?""I no longer have books available to me, Father." She said."Well Joan, if ever you wish books to read again, feel free to come by the rectory after supper and I will let you read some that belong to the church."This was a very special offer as there were no libraries and all books were written by hand. It would be six hundred years before; Johannes Gutenberg would invent moveable type and print his first bible.The following evening, after making supper for her Father, Joan walked to the church and knocked on the rectory door. Father Paul answered and invited her in. As the parish was pour, they only had four books. One was a bible, the second was a book called, "Entrance to Heaven", which was a guide for priests.The third and fourth were written in Latin, a language in which Joan had no knowledge. Father Paul told her to be seated by the fire, picked up the book in Latin and began to read."When a priest has a craving for a physical union, it is the duty of all females to give themselves to him willingly. This is the law of God. Sexual union is God's reward to everyone who follows his decrees. The female shall spread her legs wide and allow the priest to enter her with his phallic member."Father what is a phallic member?""All males have a phallic member Joan. It is the essence of a man.""I have no knowledge of such essence. What will it do?""It is the instrument that will allow a female to see God.""Do you have your phallic member with you Father Paul?""Yes, I do.""May I see it Father?""Of course my child."Father Paul lifted his short tunic and revealed his penis and testicles. Joan was very interested and asked how she would be able to see God, with his instrument. The Father invited her to repose on his bed of straw, and he would display the power of his essence.When she complied, Father Paul knelt down and lifted her tattered dress, revealing her slitten, the entrance to her passageway. As he spread her legs, Joan wondered what he was doing and why. In her eighteen years she had never heard of this type of ritual, and wondered who had written the book.Kneeling between Joan's legs, Paul stripped off his tunic and was naked before her; his member became erect and was pointing toward the ceiling. As he bent forward, and guided his penis...
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  • College Laundry

    College Laundry
    Nov 21 2024
    Two shy students escalate their encounter doing laundry. By smj895 - Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. Kindra dropped the correct change into the last washer and hit Start. She had two weeks’ worth of clothing to clean. This was a several hour affair, but it was a Friday night after dark and what else was she going to do, really? In fact, she already had her activity ready. Out came her tablet, preloaded with pirated movies. She didn’t bother wearing earbuds. The noise of the washers drowned out the sounds of her device, and no one else was around. Up? Probably. Around? No way.Not for a while anyway. About twenty minutes into her first movie, she noticed someone else walk into the college dorm laundry room. “Oh. Sorry!” she instinctively said. She looked up. It was a tall, thin boy, probably her age (19), and with unkempt but short dark sandy blonde hair. “No, no, it’s fine,” he replied. He moved around her to the free washers, dropping in his load, then the detergent, and finally his change. He moved to the opposite side of her, leaning back against a dryer after fiddling with his phone. Kindra went back to her movie. This was awkward, but that was college life for you, wasn’t it? Wasn’t this supposed to be the “college experience?” Meeting new people? Forcing opportunities to meet new people, if that wasn’t really your thing? Like Kindra’s? She noted his loose-fitting clothes and lanky figure, and then sort of ignored him. “What movie is that?” he asked. Crap, Kindra thought. She forgot to put in earbuds. “Uh, just a flick,” she half-lied. She was silent for a little bit. “What are you listening to?” As a response, the boy pulled out one earbud. The music was a genre Kindra didn’t particularly enjoy, but certainly could respect. “That’s pretty cool,” she told him. “What are you studying?” he asked. “Chemistry. You?” “Mech E.” Mechanical Engineering. So they shared maybe one class - Chem 101 - and she already tested out of that her sophomore year. …Of high school. No chance of seeing him around campus. The next twenty minutes passed in silence. A buzzer went off, then another, and a third. Kindra moved her clothes to the dryer and deposited her next round of change. She went back and sat in front of the washers. “I’ve, um… I’ve seen you around before, I think,” she started. He looked up. “What’s your name?” “Wallace,” he said. “Kindra. Nice to meet you,” she smiled. “Nice to meet you too,” he smiled back. It was only a week when Kindra went back to the laundry room. She learned her lesson this time. She only had a load and a half, so she made two mostly-full loads and started the washers. Not five minutes passed when Wallace walked in with a load of his own. “Hey!” he exclaimed. “Happy coincidence!” Kindra blushed a little. That was a cute gesture. “How was your week?” she asked. “Good. Quizzes on Tuesday, test on Thursday. I had most of today off.” “Shouldn’t you be out partying with your friends?” “I don’t really have many yet. I see a bunch of guys in study groups, but that’s purely academic,” he joked. She nodded. “What about you?” She blushed a little harder. “Oh, my roommate has a boyfriend who likes to… uh… occupy the room?” Wallace laughed. “Wow. So you’re kinda relegated down here, huh?” Kindra laughed back. “I mean, I guess!” Before they knew it, the buzzers went off. Kindra moved her loads over and Wallace moved to sit next to her. “Mind if I watch?” he asked courteously. Kindra hesitated for a moment. Not out of fear - nothing about this boy sprang any red flags. She just wasn’t expecting it. She nodded and looked down to hide her blush. The next week, the two of them found additional excuses to go do laundry. They hadn’t exchanged numbers yet, but somehow they knew the other would be there. Kindra and Wallace grew closer together as they moved closer together in the laundry room. To his credit, she noticed, Wallace didn’t make any move on her. She hadn’t had a really successful relationship in the past, but she wasn’t opposed to her first collegiate flirt being this boy. It was another Friday when she made her move. She packed up her dry laundry and waved goodbye. “Catch ya next time!” she smiled cheerily. Wallace waved back. She went up one floor and entered her room, stuffing the clean clothes under her bed. Her roommate wasn’t present, thankfully. She didn’t care where; just so she didn’t come back till much later. Kindra waited at the door expectantly. She was nervous. She had always been shy. This was a big leap for her. But… “college experience,” right? Wallace knocked at the door. “Uh… Kindra? Are you in this room?” She waited a few seconds before opening the door. “Oh, uh…” Wallace started, “You uh… left this-” he held up one of her socks. He stopped when he noticed she was in a jet ...
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  • Sexy Liaison With (Eye) Candy

    Sexy Liaison With (Eye) Candy
    Nov 20 2024
    Fun with sexy single mum makes me envy of other dads. by BritPop. Listen to the podcast at Steamy Stories I was dutifully dropping off at the school gate and I was all ready to make my home. I was in no rush. I had recently split with my wife. She kept the house and belongings along with a new fella. I had rented myself a tiny flat, all I could afford. I wasn’t pleased with the situation but I had brought it on myself by having a fling with a colleague. A one night stand that had turned into one night too many and we had been spotted. Her husband had forgiven her indiscretions; my wife had not. Ah well. Back to the tiny, lonely house as I had a few days off work. I had no plans and no money to spend, even if I did have anything planned. “Hi. How are you doing?” I turned around and was surprised to see one of the other mums, Candy. When their wives weren’t listening, most dads had nicknamed her “Eye Candy”. However, when their wives WERE around, most dads kept their eyes averted from this particular mum if they didn’t want to pay the price later with an ear bashing about ogling. My own wife would be particularly vocal if she saw me so much as look at Candy’s fabulous, single mum body. Many a time I had done one double take too many at one of Candy’s particularly flattering and body-revealing outfits and I had had hours of ear ache about “eyeing up that slut.” In fact my initial thought when she spoke to me was panic before I suddenly realised I was free to let my eyes roam wherever I liked. And my eyes did like roaming over the white boob tube and very mini mini skirt very much indeed. She was standing very close and I have never been so pleased to be a tall man. I got an excellent view down the boob tube at a superb pair. I am unashamedly a tit man and Candy’s jugs looked to be top of the class. I relaxed and allowed myself to be flattered that she had chosen to speak to me. “I was so sorry to hear you had split with your wife. You must be devastated.” “Oh…erm…” I quickly tried to drag my thoughts away from those tan titties and what I would like to do with them. “Oh yeah…well, you know…it’s been really tough… but we’re trying to…” Man, that was a short skirt. What delights would I find if I just lifted that hem a couple of inches? “Yeah, we’re..um…trying to keep everything as civilised as we can…” “That is such a mature attitude. I really admire you.” She moved even closer and touched my arm. I could smell her perfume. I could even smell her shampoo. Better than her smell was the fact that the movement of her arm towards me caused those boobs to jostle and jiggle slightly. My mouth was watering. I wasn’t feeling mature - I was feeling like an 18 year old kid getting hard seeing all the top heavy girls in their bikinis at the local pool. I cleared my throat to make sure my voice came out normally and didn’t give away how I was feeling. “Thank you. It helps to talk to someone. I don’t suppose I can give you a lift home?” “If you’re sure it would be no trouble?” she replied. None whatsoever, I thought to myself. It had been a long time since I had enjoyed female company and I was enjoying hers way more than usual. I also enjoyed the other dads giving me covert looks of jealousy as I escorted her to my car. The ones with their wives just gave me quick “Lucky bastard!” glances while the dads on their own unashamedly stared, wondering how in the hell I had managed to get myself into a situation where Eye Candy was getting into my car. I have never felt so glad to have been in the jeep. “Watch your step up there,” I said. “Ooooh, I need to get my balance!” In order to do this, she parted her legs in her high heeled sandals, reached over and “steadied” herself by holding on to the other side of the passenger seat. It was an unusual method but, I have to tell you, it worked for me. It meant that she was a foot up in the air, bending over in a mini skirt and high heels with her legs apart. I could see her red lace panties, her very shapely arse cheeks and the bulge of her pussy lips, peeping between her legs. And she took quite a while to steady herself, wriggling her round arse to do it. Finally, and to my immense disappointment, she climbed into the passenger seat and I closed the door. I walked slowly round to the driver’s seat, trying to get the contents of my trousers under control. I knew my bulge was visible but no red-blooded male could have seen that sight and kept his dick under control. Those panties were a red rag to my bull. As we drove to her place, we both discussed how lonely it could be not having a partner in your life. “There are so many things I miss,” she told me, opening and closing her shapely legs just a little. I was sure I wasn’t misreading the messages. Candy was coming on to me and believe me, I wasn’t going to be playing hard to get. When we got to her house, I made ...
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  • Daphne

    Daphne
    Nov 19 2024
    Virgin guy gets the girl at last. by S3lwyncd0g - listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. I had no idea how much my life was about to change when I went to work that night in April 1980. I was nineteen, had no girlfriend, hell, never even been kissed. I had a job buffing floors in a department store. All the cleaning and restocking was done in the evening and right after closing. Then, after everyone was gone, I came in to do the floors. This way, no one was in my way or tracking on the floors. I would wax a different area each night and simply mop and buff all others as needed. I was going to Junior College and the store’s general manager was my Dad’s best friend and my godfather. Looking back, I was so lucky that this happened before camera surveillance systems were widespread and affordable.I stuck a tape in the cassette player in the office and it played over the store’s sound system, Kool and the Gang was my music tonight. I turned around and nearly shit my pants. Daphne, the Boss’s daughter, was right behind me, I yelped. “Sorry, Kip. Didn’t mean to scare you.” she said. “T-That’s okay,” I replied trying to calm down, “I didn’t know anyone was here.” She pointed to her Dad’s office, “Yeah, I was crashed on his sofa.” I noticed she had a sad demeanor and her hair was all mussed up. “I just didn’t feel like going home and needed someplace to sit and think,” she said and turning, walked out of the office and onto the store floor. The offices were on the second floor which also contained the Home Decor and Furnishings as well as Clothing departments. I followed her. Daphne was almost like a cousin. We’d grown up together, she was a year older than me and had been a tomboy until puberty hit her. And boy, did it hit her hard. She went from cute to hot in no time. Of course boys noticed and flocked around her. I got left behind. Now at twenty she stood 5'9", was stacked with big tits and the naturally blonde hair from her Mother’s Swedish family line. She was wearing a baggy blue crop-top and a pair of red and white striped tight short shorts. (ah the fashion of the 80’s) Her long legs looked amazing. Naturally I followed her. “You okay?” I asked when I caught up with her. “Hmm? Oh yeah… I guess…” she mumbled. Then she stopped and leaned on the railing around the escalator. I stood there in silence. God, her ass looked awesome! I started to step away when she leaned forward on her elbows. Her crop top hung open and I could see her tits hanging free. They looked huge. Of course I wasn’t experienced and had only seen tits in flashes and glimpses and Playboy. So this turned me on. I stood and stared for a moment then moved slightly to get a better view. “Kip? You know those silly episodes of shows and in movies where people swap bodies?” “Yeah.” “It’s stupid, I know, doesn’t happen, can’t happen… but, damn, I wish I could do it right now.” “What do you mean?” I asked. Daphne turned and walked towards the Furnishings displays. She paused in a “Bedroom display” and stood in front of a dresser. It was wide and low with an enormous mirror. “I’m tired of this.” she said. “I was happier when we were kids and could play and swim and have fun together.” She looked at my reflection and continued, “You were my best friend and confidant. We had so much fun together. Remember when we went skinny dipping?” she smiled. We’d been only eight and nine at the time and didn’t know anything about sex or attraction, hell we were so innocent, we weren’t even curious. We simply got hot and swam, then dressed and went on playing. I’d actually forgotten about it. “Then suddenly I emerge from my cocoon a beautiful butterfly and everything changes.” She was quiet for a moment, just staring at her reflection. “I wish it hadn’t.” I stepped closer, surprised to hear her confession. Taking a deep breath she continued. “Suddenly everyone wanted to be close to me, no… not just close. Everyone wanted to possess me, own me… use me. Even my Dad wanted to use me for advertising. Those photos they took? Yeah, those were the tame ones the company approved. Some were deemed unacceptable. Mom and Dad didn’t care what the photographer asked me to do or wear or how to pose. They insisted that he was the professional and knew best. I felt cheap. And all the guys I dated? Every single one of them only wanted sex. That’s why I dated so many guys. I’d date a guy till he pressed for sex, then drop him. Problem was that all the guys wanted sex, none of them wanted me.” Suddenly I felt guilty for looking at her tits. “Finally it happened. Six months ago, I went to a party. I was having fun, then I woke up the next day in a strange house with my ass in a gallon of cum. I’d been drugged and raped. I wanted to die.” Tears flowed as she continued. “They’d left polaroids of me getting fucked but nothing to identify...
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  • Knights of the Teorsas

    Knights of the Teorsas
    Nov 18 2024
    It does not do, to speak mockingly of erections.By Drmaxc. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. "Men and their erections,""Men and their erections," Tacey laughed shrilly, "if you could harness them you'd solve the energy crisis. Forget the unpredictability of wind power, their erections rise and fall come sun, come rain, come snow; if you could only capture the energy of all those millions of cocks..."The girls giggled and laughed loudly in their gaggle at the bar. They had drunk too much and were being disrespectful of men. Jonathan did not like it, he expected women to speak of such things, the male sexual organ, in hushed, slightly awed tones: not make silly jokes as if, he paused and took a breath, a 'Teors' was something to laugh about. He used the Old English deliberately. To have used a slang term — a 'cock' as the girl had done, a 'willy' or the like would have been wrong. He gripped his glass; something would need to be done.Entering the subterranean halls of the Knights of the Teorsas always gave Jonathan a particular thrill. Unknown to virtually the whole population of London it was a closely guarded secret, not even disclosed to the authorities. All they knew about was the insignificant little house in a backstreet of Covent Garden and it was to that house that the bills for electricity and the like came. It was an unremarkable house that held a remarkable secret as it gave access, through its cellar, to the ancient home of the Knights, the Great Phallocrypt, a network of rooms, halls and passages built in stone many, many, many years ago.Jonathan was much more than an initiate, a Raphe, more than a mere knight but a man who had crossed the Fraenum, the narrow bridge between the Corpus Cavernosum, the great hall where the knights assembled in their pomp, and the grand domed meeting hall of the inner circle, the Corona, who ruled the order. Jonathan was himself a member of the Corona, albeit its most junior having only been erected to the position a bare month before. He had, by virtue of his status, access to the Grand Master of the Order, the Bacalum, and could speak to him as of right.Dressed in his ceremonial robes, the gold badge of the erect phallus woven in gold thread into the red material, Jonathan strode through the Corpus Cavernosum nodding to knights he met but there was no time to pause and engage in intercourse, he had urgent business, a matter of grave importance to report to the Bacalum himself. Crossing the bridge of the Fraenum still gave him a thrill. How many of the knights achieved that? Such a singular honour; he had been speechless for a full minute when he had been told to prepare himself. How many would ever wear the third gold band around their teors? How many of them were ever able to do the thing he was about to do? To raise the great brass phallic knocker and tap three times on the oaken door of the Lacuna Magna, the Grand Master's private office?As always, the Bacalum was dressed in his ancient robes, beautifully decorated with representations of the ancient Roman god, Priapus, and with his great red curving penile hat making him look so much taller than he actually was. A trick long realised by the designers of uniforms; whether the bearskins of the Guards, the Shako of yesteryear or, indeed, the 'tit' of the London bobby. Shaking his grey head wisely he listened as Jonathan described what he had heard only the night before."It will not do, it will not do." The Baculum's words of wisdom enervated Jonathan."I seek permission to use, to wield, the Great Mesmodildo." The words were out; Jonathan had made the request, an act of considerable presumption in one so junior.There was a sharp intake of breath, the great phallic hat jerked upwards, and the penetrating eyes of the Grand Master seemed to bore right into Jonathan. There was a pause, "It will do."They sat for a few moments in contemplation. On the walls were artists' impressions of wonderful buildings not built. Designs by some of the leading architects of their day for skyscrapers intended to be the tallest buildings in the world in their time, all unmistakeably phallic, as skyscrapers are, but not simply because they were structures pointed at the sky but true erections designed to look like erections, buildings particularly phallic in design. Unrealised plans by Mies Van de Rohe, Frank Lloyd Wright, Colonel Seifert and most recently Sir Norman Foster. Designs the Order had not been able to find sufficient backers to fund; statements to the world not yet realised; buildings intended to awe and strike a proper respectfulness, an understanding of their place in the world, in womankind.The Grand Master rose, drawing his robes around him and walked to a cupboard; opening its black ebonised door he drew out something about a foot long and wrapped in a cloth; with both hands he presented it to Jonathan who, standing, accepted it with a bow. "I shall take the greatest care, Grand Master.""Do."Walking ...
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  • Knights of the Teorsas

    Knights of the Teorsas
    Nov 18 2024
    It does not do, to speak mockingly of erections.By Drmaxc. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. "Men and their erections,""Men and their erections," Tacey laughed shrilly, "if you could harness them you'd solve the energy crisis. Forget the unpredictability of wind power, their erections rise and fall come sun, come rain, come snow; if you could only capture the energy of all those millions of cocks..."The girls giggled and laughed loudly in their gaggle at the bar. They had drunk too much and were being disrespectful of men. Jonathan did not like it, he expected women to speak of such things, the male sexual organ, in hushed, slightly awed tones: not make silly jokes as if, he paused and took a breath, a 'Teors' was something to laugh about. He used the Old English deliberately. To have used a slang term — a 'cock' as the girl had done, a 'willy' or the like would have been wrong. He gripped his glass; something would need to be done.Entering the subterranean halls of the Knights of the Teorsas always gave Jonathan a particular thrill. Unknown to virtually the whole population of London it was a closely guarded secret, not even disclosed to the authorities. All they knew about was the insignificant little house in a backstreet of Covent Garden and it was to that house that the bills for electricity and the like came. It was an unremarkable house that held a remarkable secret as it gave access, through its cellar, to the ancient home of the Knights, the Great Phallocrypt, a network of rooms, halls and passages built in stone many, many, many years ago.Jonathan was much more than an initiate, a Raphe, more than a mere knight but a man who had crossed the Fraenum, the narrow bridge between the Corpus Cavernosum, the great hall where the knights assembled in their pomp, and the grand domed meeting hall of the inner circle, the Corona, who ruled the order. Jonathan was himself a member of the Corona, albeit its most junior having only been erected to the position a bare month before. He had, by virtue of his status, access to the Grand Master of the Order, the Bacalum, and could speak to him as of right.Dressed in his ceremonial robes, the gold badge of the erect phallus woven in gold thread into the red material, Jonathan strode through the Corpus Cavernosum nodding to knights he met but there was no time to pause and engage in intercourse, he had urgent business, a matter of grave importance to report to the Bacalum himself. Crossing the bridge of the Fraenum still gave him a thrill. How many of the knights achieved that? Such a singular honour; he had been speechless for a full minute when he had been told to prepare himself. How many would ever wear the third gold band around their teors? How many of them were ever able to do the thing he was about to do? To raise the great brass phallic knocker and tap three times on the oaken door of the Lacuna Magna, the Grand Master's private office?As always, the Bacalum was dressed in his ancient robes, beautifully decorated with representations of the ancient Roman god, Priapus, and with his great red curving penile hat making him look so much taller than he actually was. A trick long realised by the designers of uniforms; whether the bearskins of the Guards, the Shako of yesteryear or, indeed, the 'tit' of the London bobby. Shaking his grey head wisely he listened as Jonathan described what he had heard only the night before."It will not do, it will not do." The Baculum's words of wisdom enervated Jonathan."I seek permission to use, to wield, the Great Mesmodildo." The words were out; Jonathan had made the request, an act of considerable presumption in one so junior.There was a sharp intake of breath, the great phallic hat jerked upwards, and the penetrating eyes of the Grand Master seemed to bore right into Jonathan. There was a pause, "It will do."They sat for a few moments in contemplation. On the walls were artists' impressions of wonderful buildings not built. Designs by some of the leading architects of their day for skyscrapers intended to be the tallest buildings in the world in their time, all unmistakeably phallic, as skyscrapers are, but not simply because they were structures pointed at the sky but true erections designed to look like erections, buildings particularly phallic in design. Unrealised plans by Mies Van de Rohe, Frank Lloyd Wright, Colonel Seifert and most recently Sir Norman Foster. Designs the Order had not been able to find sufficient backers to fund; statements to the world not yet realised; buildings intended to awe and strike a proper respectfulness, an understanding of their place in the world, in womankind.The Grand Master rose, drawing his robes around him and walked to a cupboard; opening its black ebonised door he drew out something about a foot long and wrapped in a cloth; with both hands he presented it to Jonathan who, standing, accepted it with a bow. "I shall take the greatest care, Grand Master.""Do."Walking ...
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  • A 'Karen' Gets Caught

    A 'Karen' Gets Caught
    Nov 17 2024
    A revenge fantasy with a twist.Based on the work of Djmac1031. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. Apologies to anyone actually named Karen. We feel your pain. But life isn't always fair, is it?"Are you the manager?" The Karen yelled in his face.Mack sighed wearily. It had already been a rough shift, and when he got the page from Jill, who was working the Department store’s Customer Service desk, he just knew his day wasn't about to get boring."Yes, now if you could please, calm down and tell me what the problem is here," he answered evenly. "The Problem?" The Karen screeched, "The problem is I've been standing here for 30 minutes.” It wasn't that long, Mack knew, trying to convince this silly cow." She gestured wildly at Jill, "to give me a simple cash refund on these items I purchased just yesterday that I'd like to return!" Jill was a newly hired clerk, working part time while attending the local college. This was Jill’s second week at the store, and her first encounter with a ‘Karen’.Mack already knew the details of this ignorant woman's request, but he picked up and inspected the garments anyway, knowing he'd find no price tags on them. He also knew the screaming harpy had produced no receipt.Mack took charge and observed Jill’s frazzled expression. “Jill, I’ll make sure our customer’s issues are resolved.”"Ma'am," Mack began, calmly yet firmly, "our store policy is very clear. No cash refunds on items without a receipt. Now we will gladly give you store credit, good for,”The Karen cut him off sharply, "Store credit? What makes you think I want store credit? I'll never shop here again after the way I've been treated today, I promise you that!"He was trying to formulate a response that didn't involve the words "go fuck yourself," when he felt a sudden hand on his shoulder. It was his security officer, Phil. "Excuse me ma'am," Mack said as he turned aside to allow Phil to speak softly and unheard by The Karen.The Karen let out a loud harrumph, then turned her wrath back over to Jill, spouting ridiculous threats about having her fired and other nonsense that Mack blocked out as he focused on what Phil was quietly relaying to him. Mack's eyes went wide, and a broad smile slowly crept over his weary face."Ma'am," Mack interrupted the woman who was still ranting at poor Jill, "if you could please come with me, I'm sure we can find a reasonable solution that will make you happy, I promise. Jill, take a 10 minute break."The Karen looked skeptical, but followed Mack and Phil to the security office not far from the customer service desk.When all were in the office, Mack closed the door, then ushered The Karen to take a seat in front of the desk. Behind the desk was a wall of security monitors.Phil walked quietly behind the desk, tapped some keys at his computer, found what he was looking for, then spun the screen around so that both Mack and The Karen could see it.The Karen's eyes went wide. There, captured in high definition color, a video started playing; a video that featured her as the lead role. On the screen, The Karen was collecting various clothing items off the rack, then, after looking around, was clearly seen cutting the tags off with a small pair of scissors she'd produced from her purse. Mack nodded to Phil, who paused the video. "Well, I think we've seen enough, don't you?" Mack addressed her with a grim smile. He then gave a quick nod to Phil, who stood up and left the room without a word. Mack took Phil's seat behind the desk and turned his attention back to her.The Karen sat there, deflated. All the bluster and anger had drained from her, and she now looked fearful. "Listen, please, you can't,” she started.Mack cut her off. "Can't what? Call the police, have you arrested? I most certainly can, and will." With that he reached for the phone."Please!" she begged, imploring him. "I can't get arrested! My husband, he's, he's running for office, City Council. If this gets out it would destroy his campaign!""You should have thought of that before you came into my store with such an idiotic plan." His hand moved again towards the phone."Wait, please! There must be something we can do? I'll do, I'll do anything," she pleaded.Mack sat back, a sly grin on his face."You could suck my dick," he said bluntly.The Karen stood up, a mix of shock, terror and anger on her face. "I'll do no such thing!" she bellowed. "You fucking pig! I'm leaving, right now, you can't stop,”Mack cut her off sharply, angrily, "Sit down."Surprisingly, she did as she was told.Mack composed himself, then continued. "Yes, you could walk out of here, right now. I wouldn't lay one finger on you to stop you. My security cameras will film you, all the way out the door and across the parking lot. They'll pick up the make, model and color of your car, probably the license plate as well. The police will show up at your home shortly after you arrive there, and you can put on a nice little show...
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