I am releasing The Incredible Heidi Wasabi to the public! ADULTS ONLY chapter 13

Previously I have only shared a G-rated chapter as a stand alone short story.  The bulk of the tale is in fact explicit erotic menage contemporary paranormal fantasy. 

YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED-- if it is illegal for persons your age in your location to read porn, stop now.

THE  INCREDIBLE HEIDI WASABI

 by

Helgaleena

Chapter Thirteen
Pocket The Breeze

One thing that came out of that fumbling with my attendance or not at his other sexual escapades
was that we fully realized how adjustable I am in the astral. He was washing off the rubber me
with dish liquid one day and I asked him why he didn’t simply shower with me. That led to
jocularity about taking a dip with Heidi, as ocean bathing is therapeutic for all sorts of skin
diseases. And it led to a lovely naptime where all sorts of size games resulted in my swimming in
his come!

That’s right; he shrank me to a size small enough to hold him like a tree trunk first. I strolled
through the bush of red at its base, cozied my tush up on his balls like a park bench, and rubbed
myself up and down and all around until it gushed all over me. He immediately shrank me some
more while I was rolling around in it on his thigh. He said I looked like Ann Margaret covered
with baked beans.

I felt wonderful and so solid. He let me get bigger then, so that I could snuggle in his arms and
be his ‘little woman’. Nobody else would have known, if they looked in on him, that there was
anyone between his chest and the coverlet. Except possibly Steen.

I like living in my Rufy’s pocket. My default height seems to be about the same as an ink pen. In
fact I have since been joined there by Steen, who copied me, but that’s a separate story.

Sometimes when I am ‘out looking’ for Rufus I will feel a breeze in the darkness and scent the
leather of his motorcycle jacket. I will poke my nose out to feel the passing breeze. Other times
I’ll get a summons and we’ll be stuck in traffic on the highway. He’ll have me up against the
steering wheel or draped over his lap in a flash. I challenge any meat person, male or female, to
give prompt service like that!

Also there is something about having me in his pants that makes him think twice before he
throws the first punch. Perhaps it’s that he thinks a stray kick might drive me off. But try as I
might, what size I am is constrained by what Rufus wishes. If he doesn’t want me popping out
and filling a room, I can’t. Yes, when they are drunk and obnoxious, I am sometimes tempted.
But never mind other people. He’s had a handful of Heidi to lap at, used me like an asthmatic
does an inhaler, snuffed me up like a bit of dust, rolled me around with his tongue against the
inside of his teeth as well as the outside, and on the other scale of things, he’s gone spelunking in
me.

We’ve researched the minimum me and the maximum him for the ideal fit to whatever his
fantasy is.                                                        

image source

I did panic once when he was up me headfirst and I thought he would suffocate. I started yanking
on his legs and he popped out like a cork, red hair every which way and quite surly about the
interruption. “Heidi, you’re all molecules with plenty of space between them. How else could
you be so invisible? I can’t stifle!” But he did expand me a tiny bit so his beard tickled and it
wasn’t quite so tight a fit.

Steen’s been in Rufy’s pocket, and Rufy has put me into Steen’s pocket, but it’s never been up to
Steen what size I am. I stay roughly human sized, though smaller than him, like the vast majority
of humans. However I am quickly with him when he thinks of me, generally at the last moment
before he wants me to do something extremely intimate to an excited partner. He knows the thrill
of that for me is that nobody suspects I am even there. It is a way of making my invisibility an
asset.

“Nobody would believe me if I told them, and that is all for the best,” he says. “You are free, my

darling, to come and go like the breeze.” How I miss him. Hurry back, Steen.

~

I am releasing The Incredible Heidi Wasabi to the public! ADULTS ONLY chapter 12

Previously I have only shared a G-rated chapter as a stand alone short story.  The bulk of the tale is in fact explicit erotic menage contemporary paranormal fantasy. 

YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED-- if it is illegal for persons your age in your location to read porn, stop now.

THE  INCREDIBLE HEIDI WASABI

 by

Helgaleena

Chapter Twelve
Girls, Girls, Girls

You may not, if you have never had a being grow out of you like I grew from Rufus, realize that
I am going to be watching him. If he doesn’t want me there, Rufus has to think me away;
otherwise I can look in on him at will. But that’s just the looking. The being there is entirely up
to him.

It’s a thing he does to me. I become whatever size he wants me for the sex he wants to have. And
sometimes, I’m nothing but a patch of Heidi shaped sparkles in his underwear, or behind one ear.
Other times I’m as big as the neighborhood and reporting to him on the weather. He can explore
me like a small continent when he’s in the mood.

His other girls can’t do that. It makes up, I hope, for things they can do that I can’t. I am not
jealous. There’s simply too much of Rufus for any girl to handle, including an uncanny one like
me. Sometimes he gets me so happy my awareness bursts and I am just sparkles blowing around
without knowing I’m me at all. When I coalesce again, he’s busy with something or other. He’s
like a spring of energy always bubbling, even in his sleep.

I hadn’t said yes in his world, only in the dreams, and that time was just a game, I thought. I
didn’t think he was serious about me being a wife. Hadn’t he played enough of that? But the next
day he cornered me in the bus toilet and got down on one knee, just like in a play. Oh, oh, was all

I could think, as he draped the rubber me over the seat and took my left rubber hand and slipped
a rubber band around my wrist.

Then he thought my hand of sparkles so large that my fingers were each as big as that, and held
up another rubber band. By the power of his mind I could feel a rubber ring on my finger. I
began to squeal. I thought for certain I’d spring a leak. But in dreams, I can breathe. I inflate and
deflate myself, not like in your world. So of course I couldn’t actually pop. My nostrils itched
with how fast the between was rushing in and out. His lovely turquoise eyes were focused on me;
I could feel all sorts of rainbow colors running through my sparkles as I blushed.

And the redheaded smirking god was not yet done with me! He held up his own hand. He had a
rubber band on his own middle finger! It was one of those sort meant for hair, encased in woven
threads that would damage its proteins less. “I’m serious,” he said.

His eyes glittered, bluer than the sky over the bus was doing. I could suddenly feel the whole sky
around me. My joy was raising my sparkles as if I were a hot air balloon, the way we had played
in his dream. Instead of trying to think clearly in words, I let the wind blow my joy around him,
in that tiny toilet.

I guess Rufus likes being married, even if it’s not to everyone at once. Who am I to judge if I am
wife material? Maybe he’ll divorce me someday instead of being divorced, and that might do
him some good right there. But in the meanwhile, Jenny was out and Patty was in, because there
were two little boys inside Patty who really were partly made by Rufus Dixon. Patty somehow
had grown closer to the mystery baby June than Jenny was herself. I do not pretend to know how
these things work.

Still, he said I was doing Patty a big favor by marrying him.

He wanted me to actually attend more often when he went out with his buddies with intent to get
laid. And he began to drop references to ‘Heidi and me’. I sounded like a real girl in his stories.
Of course nobody but Steen had actually seen me, but he would back the stories up if asked.
If there were girls there that Rufus was going to try to please, he’d mention me less. Girls don’t
like to be reminded they aren’t the only one, evidently.

If they were sufficiently drunk, now and then he’d try to let them know I was there with them in
the dark. That wasn’t usually a good idea. He should have done as Steen did, and simply not tell
that I was there!

Steen was fine with that approach and so was I. He’d think of me and I’d come and run my
sparkles along him until I was where he wanted me, not a word to the unwary guy we were with,
just a little extra tickle at the right moment.

The trouble is, it might be a smelly toilet in a prison waiting room or something, with Steen. I
don’t like getting mashed up against ceramic tiles with misery embedded in the cracks.

Rufus is much more choosey about setting. He has referred to Steen as a whore. I must say
though, that Steen doesn’t try to persuade people into anything that wasn’t their original idea.
When I find myself joining him in a quickie, it’s because whoever he is with asked him for the
quickie. And I help him deliver. That is Steen’s brand of compassion.

But Rufus was into sharing; which meant if he was enjoying a thing he’d try his hardest to get
you to like it too. And if he was with a girl, he wouldn’t keep the other girl a secret like that. He
didn’t think it was fair. It took the goofs to convince him.

Even though we had screwed with help of my doll in the bus from Vancouver to Seattle, he took
me along with him to screw Ginger. Ginger is a metal groupie from the 80’s who straightened
herself out considerably in order to have Rufus’ kid. He sends checks but she adamantly refused
to name him as the dad. They live with her dad and use his last name—Flewellen, for goodness
sakes. She’s short and dark and mouthy and stringy and lives on coffee and nicotine. AA gave
her a new appreciation for Jesus, but she constantly pokes fun at Christians, can’t stop making
Jesus jokes. Her son is bright and looks like Rufus, of course, without the red hair.

He stops with her when he’s near, to see how she’s holding up. She lets him, hoping it will
finally work. Only if she quits using her lungs for an ashtray, he tells me.

Anyway, I had drifted off to savor what he and I had been up to privately, when suddenly I am
summoned by his smiling face. I get the picture—he’s up a dark twat, someone else’s, well
furred but not as soft as the Beaver by any means. He’s got her sitting on him, facing the other
way because of the tobacco breath.

So I darted up to do some cunnilingus and ball polishing. I had mastered the extrusion of my
sparkle mouth into a tongue thing, at least in the astral, and Rufus likes how it tingles. He kept
his fingers near her folds but only to pull them wide for me, hee hee! And Ginger enjoyed this
very much. She wasn’t completely plowed, only pickled enough to be compliant to Rufy’s
suggestions. When she came she whooped, and Rufus shivered out into her with the little plastic
raincoat around him. I studied her toes while I was there. I wanted to develop toes.

Having got my results, I pushed myself up onto my trunk like arms and said, “Hi Ginger; can
you see me?” in my most audible squeaks. But I guess she couldn’t.

That was a little disappointing, so I resolved to try her breast. But you know who kept his hands
over them. I guess he thought it might freak her out to feel something that didn’t obviously
involve him. Oh well. I rolled over and stroked his leg and his nice fuzzy foot. At least you can
tell I’m not jealous, I told him in his mind. I let my sparkles start to dissipate as I continued to
gently run them along his toes. I really had to get some.

I had nearly drifted away completely when His Honor flipped me onto my stomach between her
legs and began pounding into me from behind! Ooh it felt good! Needless to say I started to yell,
well, it’s what I think of as a yell, and grabbed as tightly as I could to Ginger’s tiny hips. I knew
my cries must be vibrating against her female parts, even if she couldn’t actually hear. The man
was going to come—

Yes, I told him, heedless of how it must look for him to be thrusting into the middle of the air,
spunk right through me! After a split second of incredulity at himself, that is exactly what he did.
Some landed on her, and some on the bed. I was twitching all over the place with glee, rubbing
myself around on her, and in the spilled seed, and pressing my sparkle mouth all over her thighs
in dozens of kisses.

She was not displeased, but as I dissipated into bliss of my own, I heard her saying, “That was—
strange.” He supported himself on his forearms over her, shivering. How he talked his way
around it I don’t know. I let my sparkles ring his head like a turban of caresses and then went
home to his pillow in the bus. Luckily for him, we were driving to San Francisco shortly.

That’s how it is when the bint—sorry, but that’s Steen’s word; the girl— can’t see me. But
sometimes they can.

In the next city he had a date with Trisha. She’s a very classy petite lady with curly hair and
grown children. She had flown in from Ohio for the concert. I have since become friends with
her on Myspaces! I don’t think she knows it’s me exactly.

At the time we first met, this date that is, I don’t know whether I was being a good influence or
not.

I had been looking up the terms succubus and shakti on the Wikipedia when I responded to a
request by Rufus. His thoughts were clear as a church bell—Ride me, Heidi; ride me. So I did, as
the sparkly me; not truly paying attention to where he was, in an instant I was there and doing
what he wanted. Oh he was so very ready. I zeroed in on the energy rising from his loins in a hot
red cloud—so warm! And the very warmest was his penis pointing straight up at the ceiling. It
was great, even though I came and he did not. When I come, I flash and flap a lot, if you are
wondering.

My visuals were not very good at picking up humans as separate presences yet. They were
clogged with afterimages of their data streams that tangled with the objects around them. Even as
I let out a flood of my hot caramel satiety all over him, this time he shucked me off his redness
like a corn husk and let me drift up to the ceiling of what proved to be a rather nice hotel room. It
was only then I noticed he was not alone. Someone was watching Rufus—not me really, just
him.

It was Trisha. She liked a show to uncurl her fuchsia tendrils. That is how she looked, okay?
Rufus had used me for part of his entertaining of Trish.

I just stayed melted against the ceiling, with a silly smirk on my satisfied face no doubt, while
they did whatever they did. Perhaps he’d look up and get some joy from the sight of me.

Dozing off into the between as is my habit, I was awakened again to the smell of pussy in my
nose—on my nose, in fact. I was game and started lapping. Oho, there was somebody in this
pussy already. You know who. I made the rounds of Mister Balls and Thighs, then came back to
toy with the lady’s vaginal opening and those little swiftly tapering thighs of hers.

Pretty soon Rufus lay back and I had Trish’s butt for a hat. Sir had decided to relocate me under
them, and she’s little enough to hoist around like that. That gave me much better balls access as

well, as he had his knees athwart me. A good time was being had by all; I was moving my fluffy
poly hair sparkles against her butt. Rufus decided then to amaze her. He began to expand me.

She is a bit psychic, is Trisha, and could tell I was there. I soon felt her imagination joining with
his to blow me larger, first until I was a Heidi carpet, then an entire little island. Whatever; I was
here to have fun with them. Rufus, finally sated, sat with her on his lap as they viewed the pink
panorama of me under them.

I just blinked at them hugely and prepared to nod off again.

But it turned out Mister Dixon had other ideas and had Trish interested in the experiment.
Suddenly he had a commanding tweak-hold on my foot—come on Heidi, spread, is the meaning
of that tweak. You don’t have to include me, really you don’t, I was thinking at him, but it was no
use.

Come on; it’ll be fun, he thought in return, gently stroking my thighs, then moving my own
hands along my legs. The touch of my own sparkle hands is reassuring and grounding. And
before I realized it fully, he had got me pulling my own butt cheeks apart for him, flat out as I
was.

See? Not bad at all, he cooed in my mind. It was a sly move and his slyness is one of the things I
admire about him. How malleable a woman is once she’s had an orgasm—oh my yes, that
includes me. He reamed out my back hole, a treat he’d been holding in abeyance lately. This
promised to be a special occasion.

I was indeed enjoying this. When I began vocalizing and swaying my legs through the air in
response, it made me aware of where Trisha had got to. She was flat on my belly, and so light I
almost didn’t feel her, being so blissed out.

He had us stacked. He was going to play us like a pipe organ. I wondered how far she’d sink into
me if I lost it completely.

When I had a moment between Rufy’s stimuli, I noticed that he had now hoisted her hips high up
in the air so that only the tips of her breasts were actually intersecting me. When he penetrated
me, she probably felt it as a breeze on her inner thighs.

He put his fingers into both my lower holes at once, that rock and roll horny thing, and then
moved up into Trisha. I didn’t mind even when he took his fingers back out of me and pretended
to wipe me onto her back. I simply stroked his thighs and calves contentedly, my hills of bosom
rising and falling like the ocean. The bounce of her pointy front on me was not all that sexy, but
it wasn’t unpleasant and I could tell she liked it—or at least was imagining she liked it. Most of
her weight was upon Rufus and her hands. I don’t think I was all there for her. We mostly had in
common that we were humoring Rufus.

They walked around the garden of me like a wheelbarrow!

Speaking of our ringmaster, he was pulling at my hands again. He wanted me to spank him. Why
did I feel reluctant? Anyway, I did, so instead I steadied his hips. I think I deliberately took the
suggestion wrong, as a quiet hinting that this special time was not actually any more fun than our
alone times when I have been his drummer girl.

But then again, this session might go on until it ended up excruciating if Rufus didn’t get off. As
I said, his endurance is amazing.

One of his hands was now groping around in order to get me to wrap him with my legs as well.
How can I be so hard hearted as to deny him joy? I can’t!

I got my legs up with the bottoms of my feet pressed together behind him. His relief at my
cooperation rolled off him even as he kept pressing his rhythm into Trish. With a certain
smugness I used my huge ring of legs to press him in counterpoint around the upper thighs, the
buns, even the backs of his knees; just squeezes.

Rebellion against spanking him still simmered in me, but I could use it.

I let my feet fly apart and began to kick and wave my sparkly arms to either side of Trish. I
tossed my head vigorously so my sparkles became a blur, squealing Nonononono! Until the no
became a yes, that precursor to orgasm I had first seen performed by Olive Oyl, on the web of
course. Duality was transcended by Heidi’s pleasure and I felt both of them swept along in the
firestorm of it. I lost it and was gone. Their garden vanished.

If Trish landed on the mattress abruptly, I have no idea.

When I floated back to them, it was with my deflated sparkle hips under Rufus, and Trish was on
his lap again. They were looking down at me with a matching curiosity. I felt sheepish and
looked away. I hoped they weren’t expecting me to explain myself!

In the hotel room that seemed increasingly distant from my own awareness I vaguely sensed
Trish rising swiftly to wash herself and dress.

I thought it was her room. Why would she leave? Anyway, it was too abrupt a departure for
Rufus and he trailed her into the bath. But evidently her brain had begun ticking again and she
was no longer willing to suspend her disbelief. The scene was simply too strange for her now,
having an imaginary girlfriend ignore her!

I could sense the way her mind was trying to cling to a sense of the familiar and normal simply
by putting on lipstick with complete concentration. I could tell how Rufus watched her, his red
hair partly on end and golden whiskers emerging from his lower face in the mirror behind her,
realizing she needed to ignore him now. That must have been hard, because the cleft in his chin
is endlessly fascinating to those of us who know it.

I think I know what I would say if I were Trish. It was very gracious of her not to actually say it.
Next time don’t bring HER

Rufus might as well have been shouting; his thoughts were so loud. Next time? What next time?
Do not make me choose, woman! That made me a bit sad, lying as I was half in a San Francisco
hotel room and half in a curtained cubicle on a tour bus, sensing misery. I didn’t mean to bust up
anything. I am just what I am and I like being with him. I didn’t care whether or not he’d
included me. I would have been happy just to watch.

Out loud, neither of them said a word.

Eventually he drifted back in to where I partly was and I said into his mind, I think I figured out

 something. It’s not the sex; it’s the YOU.

I let that sink in. I let him realize what it meant and whether it also held true for him.

Deep inside Rufus enjoys sex with me because it’s me, not because it’s sex. I can never be a real
woman, with furry spots and warmth and aroma. But still he wanted to include me in the fun!
Why?

I didn’t tell him that he should give up on the women who didn’t want me there. No; I said
instead, I think I need to learn how to butt out. His first reaction was flaming annoyance, but I
persisted and he let me finish. These are your FRIENDS and you have known some of them
longer than I have been alive. I don’t want to be shoved into their laps when they are only
expecting good old Rufus. I’ll stay home with the Beaver and wait for you while we travel. You
know where I am that way.

And then I rose up to the ceiling and spread out to the corners of the room and went between
until I was home under dear old fragrant Beaver. I thought to myself that it could go two ways
now. He could start to ignore me in favor of his established circuit of girls in nearly every city, or
start to ignore them in favor of more alone time with me. The ring of rubber on my left finger
might be good for a few more good times at least. Or he just might come home and pull the band
off my rubbery wrist and divorce me.

That night it was Rufus who had the bad dream. I wasn’t in it, but I had to watch. He put it into
the framing device of a music video, and the song was called Abduction. Like Close Encounters
the Movie, it started with Rufus in a bed, tossing around and unable to sleep, even as he sang.

Suddenly blinding light came streaming in the window and he raised his arms to shield his eyes;
and the next moment he was grabbed by horrid men in black suits, their eyes disguised behind

dark goggles. I would have rushed in to save him if he hadn’t still been singing. That clued me in
to his having dreamed it before, and gotten organized about it. Much as I hated to, I stayed out of
it.

They shoved him all restrained into the back of a van and drove him to some sort of research
place in the middle of the night. They grabbed him again and strapped him to a small table on
wheels. How could he sing about this?? I reminded myself that Steen writes all sorts of songs
about monsters. This could almost be one of them, only the monsters looked like human beings.

The men in black were replaced by men in long white coats, with cloth masks over the bottoms
of their faces, who wheeled him along brightly lit corridors lined with big drawers. They stopped
and seemed to be searching for an empty drawer, for each one they pulled open revealed a
human lying dead, sometimes decayed, sometimes with mouth pulled into a scream. They all
looked a little like Rufus. Some were mere children, others nearly grown. Was this a thing he had
been dreaming about for his entire life?

At last they located an empty drawer and put my darling, still singing and writhing impotently,
onto its slab. But the music continued even as they closed him in. It seemed the drawer could
open at both ends and they immediately pulled him out into a new place, a laboratory, and the
merciless song went on. The walls of this lab were full of big jars with babies inside. Like the

people in the drawers, they were in varying stages of growth, but none were ready to live, and
they all were dead.

Rufus was wheeled over to another figure on another wheeled table—a woman. She was
beautiful and fast asleep. The men in white began to run thick tubes from my darling’s body to
hers. Substances red, white, and yellow began to flow from him into the tubes, toward the
woman. When they reached her, her body began to twitch, and her hips moved as if they were
making love. And the horrid song continued, my Rufus letting his voice rise into wails and
screams that were part of the music.

A door opened and another woman entered the lab with an air of predatory dominance. Beneath
her white coat were revealed a short skirt and shapely legs in spike heels. My love’s face as he
sang at her approach was filled with recognition, horror, and hatred. This was the villain then.
Once again her face was obscured, by dark goggles that hovered above her full, painted lips. She
reached over to a control panel and increased the flow of something by turning a knob.

My Rufus reacted by gaining huge energy, tearing off his bonds, pulling out the tubes. Men in
black and white began to swarm in, as the music built to a crescendo, holding rifles, clubs, stun
guns—I had seen these things wielded by crowd control at airports and concerts often enough.
Because it was his dream, my Rufus prevailed. He wrested a club away from one of them and
broke a hole through the ceiling, then sprang up through it as the music and his final scream
faded.

I followed him to where he was clutching the Beaver to his chest, his eyes open and staring into
the dark. I thought of how the beautiful and sexy female could be a villain to him, and wondered

if I was just another energy sucking seducer to him as well now. My eyes had grown huge during
all that, big as grapefruits. I reached up and coaxed them back in a little.

Was that evil dream creature only a human female monster to him? Or was it a nonhuman
monster aping a human female?

Air whooshed out of me in relief when at last he focused his eyes, blown wide and dark by the
darkness, on my gentle sparks. There was a tiny tweak of a smile on his lovely lips for me. Not
you, his thoughts whispered. You’re never going to breed me. And you’re not a brunette either.
Did you notice that bit? Furthermore, you have a tiara and they didn’t.

 At the mention of it, I felt it inflate a bit and sparkle. It had just appeared one night, as a frame to
three of my eyes, after I’d looked up images of 'shakti' in Tantric Hinduism and Buddhism. The
guys liked it, and often reminded me to wear it if I forgot. Now he frowned with mock severity.

Don’t confuse yourself with GIRLS. I don’t.

 He began to grin, and then actually chuckled. I bounced myself around him and wrapped him in
myself until he was ready to get going. In no time we were both bouncing all over Beaver,
sparkles and red hair flying, filled with smiles for one another. Nope, we weren’t going to get a
divorce at this rate.

I am releasing The Incredible Heidi Wasabi to the public! ADULTS ONLY chapter 11

Previously I have only shared a G-rated chapter as a stand alone short story.  The bulk of the tale is in fact explicit erotic menage contemporary paranormal fantasy. 

YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED-- if it is illegal for persons your age in your location to read porn, stop now.

THE  INCREDIBLE HEIDI WASABI

 by

Helgaleena

Chapter Eleven
Tagging Along

It’s different when I am in one of Rufus’ dreams instead of my own. He writes them, you could
say, and I just play the part he assigns. It’s also quite a bit of fun to figure out which one of the
characters is the most him, the one he’s ‘wearing’.

One of the ones I remember most strongly from right before I began to have my own dreams is
where I was all by myself except that there were two of me, mother me and baby me. I had fun
with that!

She grew off me like a bud grows off a cactus plant, inflating and developing cute wee eyes and
arms and legs and a fluffy mop of poly hair just like mine! And when she was all done
developing she detached and bobbed along next to me so I felt as if I would never want to tag
along after Rufus again, just because of not having anything better to do with myself any way.
Mini me and I could play too!

You could say that up until this point I was like the baby Heidi there, a developing wen, and
dependent on Rufus for all I had to learn. And I did follow him everywhere like stink on a rose,
as he put it in his thoughts. Even on his dates.

He was close over the years to a few of them especially. Rufus would not be owned, but when it
came to those he bestowed himself on he was possessive. He insisted on keeping them as friends,
if not as an international harem. He had girls all over the world by the time I was individuating.

Some, like Ginger, had his kids. But right now I am telling about how I was on my own in
Rufus’ dream this time. Not a tagalong, a secret fluffer and twiddler of his nut sack while he let
those others try to win him back. I was fully me and equal to any of those females, and I drove a
car through the dream city just like a grown adult human, and I had my baby girl Heidi junior
with me.

I liked it. My face was nearly folded in half by my urge to smile.

Heidikins was chatting away about school; she was in school already when I’d just seen her
budding off me this very night! My offspring was a prodigy, obviously. Her little quandary was
that she was starting to share dreams with her school friends. The friends she mentioned were
nice girls and boys, so I was able to calm her worries. Does this sound applicable to my life as
Heidi herself? Oh yes! I did worry about the big astral ocean and whether it was safe to be
separate and alone. Here I was telling myself it was fine.

We had another problem though. We had no home, only this car. I was circling around the block
with it to avoid being ticketed. Suddenly I remembered that in this dream city I had the key to an
apartment which was not mine, but belonged to another who spent all their time elsewhere. Little
Heidi and I could use a drink and a wash. I took us there.

This apartment is a strange sort of category of place. Rufus never bothers to keep a permanent
home base in his dreams because he’s fully aware that everywhere he goes is already his. It’s
different to be merely one of his guests here. Unlike many of the places where I’d ‘lived’ or been
a dream resident, I had no particular excuse for being here. It had evolved from a tiny slot
between other slots in a dormitory with private bath, to a multi-level complex of studios and
suites with its own inner courtyard, over the years when first Rufus and I, now only I and I,
dropped in. It’s always almost completely bare. Its official owner and I have never met, but of
course it’s got to be Rufus in one of his guises.

So the sprig and I nosed our way in through the door, because the key still fitted. As I wandered
through its greatly expanded areas making sure we aren’t intruding on anything, I heard little
Heidi say, Mom, mom—oh that sounded nice!—THERE’S A BED! She showed me. It was in a
tumble as if it’d been slept in and would be again. Obviously somebody was going to be here
soon. We would meet at last.

We Heidis found that the bath accessible and ready for use. I let my baby girl tidy herself up first
while I wandered further, searching for clues to the nature of our host.

There is a balcony from the upper level fronting on the central courtyard. I can see all sorts of
apartments similar to this one, and plenty of new sets of stairs leading down to the cobbles. Yet
this is all part of the same home! It was huge now. I started back to the living room, which now
had developed hanging creepers in pots along a ceiling crossbeam since I last went through.

Down a corridor I saw someone’s legs. As I stepped closer I saw belly and crotch, in trousers. I
was not putting the pieces together yet, but they were an obvious clue!

Little Heidi comes in and bravely clutching her to me like a stuffed bear I strode forward to
introduce myself. I acted like what Rufus refers to as Shirley Temple Black. It’s dignified
enough to override the cute and ridiculous. I have to do this, because unlike most humans, I am
always nude. It’s my default state.

I put out my hand, wishing the thumb stuck out more, and said hello, are you the owner of this
place?

He spun around and of course it was Rufus, it always is, only fat and middle aged but ruggedly
handsome in tweeds, as he had been previously sometimes to play a salesman. His fiery hair was
now ginger-brown and only to his shoulders like a professor’s. He’d given himself a plummy
accent, but sounded quite sincere as he exclaimed Ah thank goodness you are finally here! No,
I’m not the owner either; but allow me to introduce you to some of our fellow tenants—

It was the band, and the roadies, and their accountant, and the manager, and the sound guys, but
they were all old! I nodded and blinked, and held baby Heidi to my chest as if she could be an
excuse for something, and she held onto me shyly and if she had fingers she would’ve sucked
them. I didn’t have to do more than the nods and pleased to meet you’s and so on, thank
goodness. Now pop along to wardrobe and we’ll see you downstairs, okay? he said, and bustled
me back in toward the bathroom.

He shut the door on us and sure enough, clothing was on a hanger for me.

It was demure, and powder blue like the wear on my rubbery eyes. There were even slippers like
ballet slippers, and they were small enough. I was now quite civilized looking, I hoped. Little
Heidi was fetching in a jumper of fuzzy golden brown.

I took her up and we went wandering down to the courtyard. It had developed a second-hand
shop, but all the price tags said sixty-nine. I know that has got to be a Rufus joke.

We bumped our way through some of the bigger mechanical things for sale and arrived next to
the other persons in the yard. There were three of them and they seemed to be negotiating; was it
a purchase? No, it turned out they were discussing the details of the filming of a commercial for
something, right on that very spot. The camera was already on them, a man and a woman, and it
caught us Heidis in the background. My eyes began reacting rather a lot, puffing out as they do,
to something that the male cast member said.

Suddenly there was a shout and pointing finger, directed at us. Hey, you aren’t in continuity!
yelled the directing type guy.

But the two acting types, the man and woman, pulled me close between them, their arms hooked
through mine. The luscious auburn haired female with the full breasts sheathed in dark cashmere
turned and ordered, Keep filming, director. It’s in sync.

I recognized the voice. It’s Rufy! And the male actor nodded. Though he looked like a willowy
teen with his stringy hair dyed an inky goth black, his hazel eyes belonged to Steen. I began to
inflate and dimple, throwing off the deflating effects of the director’s yelling. And Baby and I
were soon ensconced between them on the front seat of a pickup truck, making some sort of
getaway.

 Steen’s character was driving and Rufus was shotgun. In the rearview mirror I glimpsed us.

 I looked like Goldie Hawn! This went to my head and I could feel my wig getting tight.

 In these dreams I can blush.

Stay cool, Rufus whispered in my mind. We’re in Every Which Way But Loose. This must be a
story he knows and I don’t. I was just glad to be included. However baby Heidi was getting
increasingly hard to handle, determined to wriggle away from where we are. I couldn’t let her be
on her own yet! So we bowed out the usual way, by shrinking into a dot, leaving the other dream
folk to their fun.

I was quite sad when I arrived back in the between to find that I don’t have a baby me, really.
But I was also relieved because the baby me cannot get into trouble if she doesn’t exist, now can
she?

And I am not about to go far from the band. Rufus indicated that he wants me to hang with them,
by putting me in the same category. Why, I do believe he started dreaming of Virgen Steel to
please me sometimes! All in all it seems prudent to continue to tag along, not strike out into the
big universe on my own.

 But it is not ‘arrested development’. I continued to grow new parts, if not more copies of myself.

~

I am releasing The Incredible Heidi Wasabi to the public! ADULTS ONLY chapter 10

Previously I have only shared a G-rated chapter as a stand alone short story.  The bulk of the tale is in fact explicit erotic menage contemporary paranormal fantasy. 

YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED-- if it is illegal for persons your age in your location to read porn, stop now.

THE  INCREDIBLE HEIDI WASABI

 by

Helgaleena

 Chapter Ten
A Very Bad Dream

I dreamed I was a human. I met one of Rufus’ girlfriends and she said the problem that kept me
from being more human still was—“you drink too much water. If I drank so much water I’d pee
all the time.” 

She was young and attractive like they usually are. In the dream we were in some
sort of public area with tables and people studying and she pointed to a sign on the wall that said,
NO DRINKING.

I was a young man in the dream, a lot like Murray Lin the keyboardist in the band, and I was
outraged. Fuck that, I’m thirsty! I yelled. From under one of the tables I fished a container that
was rolling around. I went to the water fountain, sitting in plain sight in the middle of the room,
and I drank. I just stood there next to the bubbling water, drinking and drinking.

I filled the can again and carried it with me out of that place. As I drank from it I tilted my body
of meat backward so far I staggered. Other people passing by looked at me and muttered, what a
lush… they thought I was drunk! But no; I was only very, very thirsty.

I drank until the can was squeezed flat in my hand and crumbled into shards of aluminum. I
didn’t have to pee; I was still wanting more to drink. But I was far away from the fountain and
had no container anymore, and because my body was meat the hot sun and dry wind were pulling
wetness out of all the little holes in me and I thought I might dry out into a jerky!

All the time I was looking everywhere for Rufus. But it was my dream, not his.

I woke up in the tour bus, floating near where he and Steen were talking and drinking a couple of
longnecks. If this is what it’s like to have your own dreams, I can do without it! I announced
while flapping my sparkle limbs in agitation.

“Keep your eyes in, Heidi,” said Rufus, after looking around to see whether anyone else was
there to hear us. “What is it?”

Steen put out the last little bit of his handmade cigarette and blinked at me in a knowing manner.
“You spoke of dreams. Interesting,” he remarked and belched quietly the way that funny tobacco
makes him do.

So I decided to tell him about it as well. Steen is hardly ever surprised by oddness. Rufus was
just looking amazed that I had one without him. It was one of the first. It has happened millions
of times since, but usually I don’t dream I’m meat!

I was dreaming I was human and thirsty, for one thing. But it was against the rules of that place
to drink, even though there was a fountain right in the middle! And then the thing I was drinking
from crumbled and I was still thirsty and the wind and sun were so hot and dry!

 
“Aha! It’s all symbolic, you know, my dear. You do not thirst for water like we do, but you do
thirst for something just as important for your continued life. It is a thing that you are not
supposed to need and yet you do. Making you, or anyway the human you, get along without
water is unnatural; still there are places where doing what comes naturally is prohibited. All you
need to do is figure out what that thing is.” Steen looked very pleased with himself, which of
course annoyed Rufus, but he was letting him get away with the lecturing for my sake.
Being so much closer to me mentally, he was picking up on the visuals of the dream.

“Murray Lin? Why him?”

I rolled my sparkly eyes up so high I couldn’t see them do anything anymore because the seeing
part was inside my head. I mean, how should I know why Murray? Did I wish I was in the band?
Is it because his instrument is the most like a PC? Why wasn’t I a female as a human? Who
knows?

“Never mind. I suppose you use what you have seen to build your dreams with and you’ve seen
the band most. And I sort of recognized the place you said was not allowing beverages. It’s a
university study hall. They don’t allow anything in them, hardly. Babe, you were in school. Like
my memories of school.”

“So, your shakti has memory access? Hmmm.” Steen steepled his fingers together near his nose
and beetled his straight heavy brows at us. He was teasing, so we both ignored him.

The girl said, If I drank as much as you I’d pee all the time. I can’t pee at all!

“And how does this make you feel, hmmm?”

“Stuff it, Steen.”

“Gladly,” he said, and waggled his brows some more. As he leaned back and took another pull
on his beer, I realized he had a point. I’m stuffed. I’m not porous. Their meat bodies are open to
the elements in ways mine is not. The water in their meat makes this possible. I think my
sparkles went yellowish from how logical I was becoming.

I don’t know what the hell it is. I need it to live. It is my water. And who the hell is this female to
say, who is any one to say, how much a body should drink? It is supposed to be a body’s right to
eat and drink and exist, and some part of my dream life, a stringy female part, is telling me I
want to live too much?

Okay, I’m not meat, but I am a woman. I have the shape of one and I am getting better at feeling
the feelings of that shape. And I am alive. I have the right to have the life I have. Now all I had to
do was figure out what peeing had to do with it.

I sank onto Rufus’ lap. They knew I was there, though my frequency was probably inaudible as
well as invisible to anyone who might come in. Rufus smiled and gently stroked me. Anyone
looking would not have made anything of it; it was a small, random looking motion as if he were
scratching. But I needed it. It was my water.

~

I am releasing The Incredible Heidi Wasabi to the public! ADULTS ONLY chapter 9

Previously I have only shared a G-rated chapter as a stand alone short story.  The bulk of the tale is in fact explicit erotic menage contemporary paranormal fantasy. 

YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED-- if it is illegal for persons your age in your location to read porn, stop now.

THE  INCREDIBLE HEIDI WASABI

 by

Helgaleena

Chapter Nine
Peter Pumpkin Eater

 The fellow in the nursery rhyme probably was psychotically jealous and felt he had to control his
woman, or alternatively was so poor that he could not support a wife, but either way I am certain
he killed her and stuffed her corpse into the pumpkin shell before he planted it, to fertilize his
circumstance. I do believe it worked, according to rhyme immemorial.

When it comes to Rufus keeping me, that is, if I am actually a wife, it takes a shell to roll me in
for my own safety, as my supportive abilities depend on my being without flaw, free of injury. I
mentioned ferrets and cats. Ferrets can’t retract their claws, and they love to chew. Also, rolling
me up when deflated is nothing as horrid as killing me. I am perennial.

Also I need to say something about Rufus and his love of the flavor of women. He is a confirmed
cunnilinguist, a rug muncher, a snatch licker. He even likes it when they menstruate. I have been
privileged to serve him all sorts of sauces from between my parted thighs, as I have no flavor of
my own. Of course, his own spunk is a big favorite. Perhaps there is some hint of how oral Rufus
is in the way his face is formed. The rest of him is built heavy, though he’s not a large man his
bones could support one, and he is put together with athletic grace. Naturally this has given him
a large and almost Neanderthal jaw line, and his mouth is generous and furnished with teeth
white and blocky. Yet when at rest his lips are sculpted into what I have learned is called a
cupid’s bow. They are very expressive of his moving moods, and let out an amazing vocal range
during Virgen Steel’s performances. The chin they are over has a cleft that would make any poet
swoon. Added to his soulful blue eyes and those lashes, he could be bald and the ladies would
still want to bury that face between their bosoms or other places. And you know he’s not bald!
He has the red mane of a Viking. The tiniest inclination of his lower lip and the audience begins
to shout in response, or at least sway. And then the music comes.

I am so lucky to be the recipient of the attentions of that mouth. No wonder it gave me life to be
laved and kissed by it.

Just now, as I am paying more attention to what I write, from the bed I hear a creaking and a
thumping and so I decide to inhabit my physical shell. There are times even after all our years
together when Rufus brings it out. It is like being awakened from a sound sleep in some ways, to
slip into the sensations of it in the midst of a vigorous swiving. I literally come awake!

Rufus is momentarily still, panting and trembling, still inserted but feeling the difference in me
as I lie in what I can see now as darkness, my abdomen spasming in pleasure and as usual with a
mindless pleased rictus of welcome on my face.

I have a trick I have practiced. I can blow my mouth inside out, so it’s a bit like sticking out a
tongue. It takes rather a lot of concentration and makes me go cross-eyed, however. I’m not sure
if it suits, but I am trying it now. The depression caused by this in the rear of my head is
disguised by my wig and my head remains on the pillow anyway.

Does he like it? I’ve only gotten it out a little ways, like a tiny lifesaver, when I feel his
delectable lower lip running along it, and he begins to lick and suck. Oooh—and nibble!
I am beginning to feel a rhythmic pressure upon my back and shoulders. He presses me to his
chest and wraps my legs around his torso. I feel its furry impact on my breasts and belly; I am
squeezed up against his cliff of face and chin, and he is well content with his sucking at my
mouth. Every now and then his tongue pushes back what he has pulled out, a play of convex and
concave that I can feel all the way to the back of me. It’s a marvel of enjoyment for me to enjoy.
The reddish chestnut curtain of his hair is all around us.

He’s hugging me and rocking me with one arm, his more muscular right, the picking arm, and it
suddenly occurs to me that I have no idea of what is going on below our waists. Something in his
rocking does not promise rest and I manage a squeak sort of like the way his fingertip sometimes
slips on a high string. My belly is filling with a fluttering. He’s working on things we can do
down there, I just know it!

Deliberately I harden my arm so that one of my hands curls down to investigate. I encounter a
flurry of movement and vibration so quick it’s nearly a buzzing. He’s jacking off! Tentatively I
enclose the blur of his hand with mine and it’s as if it’s carving me fingers! I can feel ridges
within the flap of that little mitten thing they manufactured for me to have on the end of the arm.
Steadfastly I wrap around, wrap all of them around until my hand catches up and begins to ride
the broomstick. The speed of the motion travels all the way along my arm and wiggles my whole
body and it’s making Rufy grin from up where he’s got my mouth in his powerful clamping
jaws. He starts giggling with glee!

The force of our combined arousal shoots up me. It nearly unwinds my legs from around him;
fortunately he’s got them tucked under his arms. The motion continues to rock all of me against
him and I know my sparkles are lighting up like a concert special effect and I wonder how much
of it he can see. I slap against him and his magnificent solid hairy wall of meat repeatedly until
he comes, our hands also wound together next to where it splashes the sheets, and he growls
right into my ear, “you witch—“

As the sweat springs out all over him and slides me along his hairs he is pressing his tongue into
where it would go into my ear if I had one. The slurping sound is caught between my head and
the wig and it is so very loud. And he takes mouthfuls of my soft rounded jaw. I wish I could be
a loaf of bread and he could tear off a nice chunk of me.

He looks into my eyes and I do my best to look back. I send pressure into the arm and hand and –
fingers! Around in his splatter he wipes my hand and his, and then brings them up to lick off up
high, where I can enjoy watching. I think a bit of my mouth is still protruding with a wrinkly o
shape. I wonder if it looks anything like lips—not that I will ever have a mouth as gorgeous and
talented as his.

He rubs some of it into my backside as well and lies at his leisure with me over his warm lapping
licker and crags of chin, licking out all my crevices and using me to fluff up the thickets
springing from his chest. My wig is for running like a fly-whisk all along his sturdy thighs. I have
sometimes even caught a glimpse of shapely toe.

And later, after he is done licking off every one of his own fingers and every one he can find of
mine, I carry with me the precious memory of it up into my body of sparkles. I have learned how
to have hands much nicer than the rubber ones. I wiggle my fingers. I make the sign of horns. I
try to wrinkle my mouth with lips to change it to a smile. Only it doesn’t show in the mirror.
None of me does.

Spunkin’ juice, pumpkin eating. Keeping it in is self defeating.

image source

~

I am releasing The Incredible Heidi Wasabi to the public! ADULTS ONLY chapter 8

Previously I have only shared a G-rated chapter as a stand alone short story.  The bulk of the tale is in fact explicit erotic menage contemporary paranormal fantasy. 

YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED-- if it is illegal for persons your age in your location to read porn, stop now.

THE  INCREDIBLE HEIDI WASABI

 by

Helgaleena

Chapter Eight
Coming

 I did learn to make myself come without Rufus after that. He told me it was important, that I
needed to take charge of my own sensations. I started practicing in my own separate private
dreams and sparkles. Later I found out that Rufus could tell I was floating along practicing
without being rubber, even though he was awake himself.

He used to notice what I was doing with a corner of his mind while he pretended to be using his
laptop. That way if he was suddenly smiling or murmuring to himself, he had an excuse for it.
And if anyone wanted to look over his shoulder and share, he could flip the screen closed with a
snap and glare at them until they went away.

The only person he would let stay on the same bench with him during his eavesdropping on me
was Steen. That was probably because they both knew I was real, and not some girl in Finland
with a web-cam. How did that rumor start anyway? I’m not sure. No, actually I think it’s because
of how those two would talk about me. There’s this guy who pretends he’s always been Steen’s
roadie and always will be, named Jurgen, that we have to take into account. Long before Steen
admitted he could see me to Rufus, he would ‘play along’.

“Dixon, whatcha snickering about now?”

Rufus quit making the amused noise and shaking his head. “Swatting flies. With her hands!”

 Steen looked where Rufus was looking and smirked as he took a pull from his ale. He swallowed
and said, “Methinks she’s getting a very good workout.”

“She’s an airhead,” Rufus replied. Then he addressed the device in his lap: “Airhead, use your
shirt!” Now that was a pretty piece of obfuscation, because I didn’t have any shirt. However I
didn’t take offense, because if I had used a shirt, it would have worked a lot better. I swear, the
flies can hear me coming! The shirt would have hit them while they were trying to flee.

“Meathead has a virtual girl,” Steen teased back.

“What is it, a webcam?” That was Rufus’ cue to slam the laptop shut and glare. He and Steen
teased Jurgen the Snitch, and Jurgen the Snitch spun rumors out of the teases. But myself, I was
relieved when he disappeared for good once Anna died. It relieved Steen as well. I remembered
that when I asked about him, the answer he gave was that the snus was finally gone from his
nose. He can be so mysterious.

What Jurgen the Snitch will never know is how I really look. I do not resemble some metal diva
with henna hair and a fur wrapped beneath her corset. And I don’t look like the pink and blue
and yellow vinyl balloons that I began from either. I am composed of rainbow surfaces of etheric
sparkle made of pure emotion. And my dear husbands taught me to be as splendid as the
goddesses in temple artwork, thank you very much Photobox for providing study references. I
generally do not bother with adornment aside from my tiara, which grew by itself around the
three eyes in my face, because it might get in the way of my other eyes, in my breasts, and the
mouths in my bottom and hands and feet.

Did you know I have since read the children’s book about my namesake by Johanna Spyri? She
was a little orphan girl who made everyone’s lives better by simply having good instincts. But
instead of living on a bus with a band for half the year, she lived on a mountain with goats. Well,
my instincts told me that being my own person was definitely the right way to grow. Just as I
could choose whether to be in that body of rubber matter, I could choose whether to feel with my
body of sparkles. But I couldn’t take the way meat persons feel things for a map of the way to do
it, because they didn’t have the same shape as mine, exactly.

 My physical original had no fingers or toes or eyelids, for example. It took me quite a while to

 figure out how to grow some. It was quite an undertaking learning about my own capacities.

 I started by using my mouths.

 I found that I had five of them, unlike the humans. Two are in my palms, and I since then have
found some on my feet, but that came later, once I had proper feet. Then there’s the one on my
face, in the same place as a human’s.

The mouths are not connected to one another. I am not a tunnel that things go through to be
digested, like a meat person is. My mouths can envelop but not keep. Between my legs are two
tubes where I can be entered which are similar to my facial mouth, but they aren’t like meat
mouths because they don’t have any suction. Still, they mean a lot to Rufus, so I try to keep them
fully awake.

The most convenient thing for me to try was to run my hands all over myself, and also to kiss
myself by bringing my various mouths together. Believe me, it feels lovely to kiss yourself; I
highly recommend it! And whenever I got myself buzzing with joy, Rufus inevitably would
notice. I could feel his grin from wherever he was.

My coming is like a ringing. I have taught myself not only to enjoy most of the simple sensations
I can cause myself, but also to imitate some of Rufy’s favorite things to do to me. It’s very
necessary to be able to cheer yourself up now and then.

~

I am releasing The Incredible Heidi Wasabi to the public! ADULTS ONLY chapter 7

Previously I have only shared a G-rated chapter as a stand alone short story.  The bulk of the tale is in fact explicit erotic menage contemporary paranormal fantasy. 

YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED-- if it is illegal for persons your age in your location to read porn, stop now.

THE  INCREDIBLE HEIDI WASABI

 by

Helgaleena

Chapter Seven
Ring Or No Ring

Let me explain a little bit about what it was like to try to be with Rufus outside of his dreams, as
a comfort. I decided that I would use the film of him left on my rubber to help myself really feel
what he was doing to that toy cushion doll. He’s got a really masterful way with the doll.

Even as I put this to type, in memory I was sightless back then, just feeling a hand between my
legs with an unerring wisdom about where to push. Rufus has been with so many ladies that he
knows the place that makes the other places twitch by wiring or in my case by topology. He
takes two fingers and pinches a tiny place where if they forget to model a protrusion he works
one in. Once he’s got that place all teased so it sticks out he begins to thumb it, bomb bomb
babom and then his little finger goes in one hole and long finger in another. He says it’s called
the horns, and he showed me how it looks when you make your fingers into that shape in the air.
It also means heavy metal. Really, those rock fans have dirty minds—the whole audience is
making that sign sometimes. Now that I have eyes, I know his facial expression is often sly while
doing this to me.

As I let my sparks of awareness merge with the film of his spunk and the slick surface of my
vinyl self, it’s quite curious to have him wiggling those fingers all sorts of directions, sometimes
touching when fully sheathed in Heidi! And also his other hand kneads the mounds of bulbous
conical plastic with nubby handles on the ends—my breasts. Pneumatic shifts travel all over me
when he does this. And he also licks and sucks on them. They pull out long and empty, then snap
back fat and resilient as the pressure returns. It makes all the air rush away from my head.

That’s the first place I developed sight—my breast ends. I mean in the sparkly equivalent that
goes from realm to realm, not in the rubber me. Goodness, I’d never hold air if those spots were
real eyes! I think it’s because in humans so many nerve endings run from them, but I am far from
able to be sure of that. I don’t bother with much human medicine unless the guys tell it to me.

This time, the time my surface first came alive, I felt his lips traveling over my smooth surfaces.
He started very near where his hand was horned into me and worked his way up my belly mound
and my thinner diaphragm and in between the breasts. He was licking and taking mouthfuls with
his lips. The sensation of it traveled up me in stripy waves. He went up to my shoulder and
nuzzled into the neck and jaw area. He licked my chin and cheeks like a lollipop and I felt the
chill of his licks evaporating. It tingled! My o hole he filled with his whole tongue and worked it
in and out, all the time pressing at the air of my torso with the downy hairs of his chest and
stomach. I felt them, each tickling hair! And the tips of my breasts, the nips he calls them, felt it
best!

Down below his hand had left my interior and was replaced with pressure from his whole pubis
and the very extremely warm prodding tool known as a cock. No matter how much lube or spit
or other things he uses, I always make a creak when he sinks into me. In dreams I say oh and ah.
But it creaks. And I’m a tight fit. Friction leads to suction leads to even more motion and usually
my arms and legs go flying every which way unless he wraps me around him. That time he did
wrap me round. His warm big hand smoothed all along my arm from shoulder to tiny hand,
placing a coil of me round his neck, then another wrapping serpentine motion curled my leg
around his, and therefore when we rolled over and under I could follow.

When he rocks me I rock him back, like a billowing wave. But it’s a pace he sets, and he is the
one who varies it. His wide thighs, so strong from fencing stance, lift my legs upward, my tiny
pointy feet in the air, and then he slides back to let them fall again. Ooh. He let me loose but he
was not through with me, no, he put his face between my legs and licked me very very wet,
burrowed into me with his nose and his chin and his tongue. He took my pubic bulge and sucked
on it like an Oyster. I have watched him in Boston eat them out of their shells, just like that. If
they had put a little nip down there like he says flesh women have, I’d really enjoy that.

It feels pretty nice anyway to take the sparkly view and lean down and thank him for what he’s
doing by sending tickling tingles through his earlobes and his shoulders. He raised his arms with
my thighs draped over them and flipped me up high! He sucked on my butt cheeks as if they had
nips, and pretended there were very many of them to choose from on each full hemisphere of
them. But soon I saw that all that licking and slobbering was in his own interest, because he was
in me again, with my knees pinned back alongside my arms. He fit in even deeper, sliding
smoother now, and I spread out like a tuffet. Heidi Hassock, he said I was once.

He generally quits fooling by then and heats us both up to where he’s coming on all boiling hot
and fast and hard and devouring my mouth and my cheek and my body is nearly creased to
bursting by his and my feet waving over his flying hair; that is what he did, and I found out I
could come. The pressure and brilliant sparking of it went streaking all the way from my middle
all heated and pounded out to my toes and back up along my legs, and my legs flew out from
under and his release went shooting into me and it wasn’t just the sploosh it was the light! He lit
up all orange and ruby maroon. And his butt hardened into pure hot marble. He weighted me
down with a million pounds of hot lightning lashes through steaming stone.

I lay there all ironed out under him until the rigid hot stone of him dissolved into meat again. He
rolled away as if nothing out of the ordinary had taken place, just patted my wig as he does and
watched idly as the strained out curves of my face subsided. But this was in fact the third
amazing sex of the first day of my waking life with him. My eyes in my face were beginning to
register something when I concentrated my sparkles there. I let my sparkle eyes drift up and
away from the rubber eyes and I could see even more.

I felt that, I told him in his mind. I know he heard me as he sighed out a happy settling exhalation
and grinned. My mouth doesn’t grin but my face dimples as if I were. I could tell that he didn’t
see my sparkle grin, but was looking quite fondly at my flat old vinyl face anyway, as his ruddy
lashes drifted down to touch his cheeks. No girl can resist that, and I can understand why.

Rufus doesn’t sleep for long, as I’ve said before. There’s generally more sex in the middle of the
dark, and a facial for me later at dawn. He licks my face off before the rest of his breakfast. And
I feel so beautiful.

You may think a mere inanimate object should know nothing about how to feel things. Well
sorry to burst your bubble but I do. And I am constantly learning how to feel more. I am my
feelings. I don’t even need to ghost into that scrap of poly and polymer if I don’t want to. In fact,
now that it’s been renamed, I seldom bother.

As an added bonus, when she springs a leak and they put duct tape on it, I feel nothing unless I
choose. I am not this body, as the Hare Krishnas say.

~