I am releasing The Incredible Heidi Wasabi to the public! ADULTS ONLY chapter 16

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 Sixteen
Heidi Gets Teeth

 I must mention that the fun in our dreams continued. Rufus seemed to have launched a campaign
to make me feel completely safe in the great universe, and that included making me fiercer.

He woke me between sleep and dream with a nearly incoherent spiel of images and mumbles
about being in a motion picture called the Wicker Man. It was set in Scotland and all the folk in
the town were part of an ancient religion that the modern world around did not comprehend, but
that the land did. He and I were part of the town, of course, and some fellow in a uniform had
come from outside the town and would not understand. That is where it got muddled because the
transition from the uniform guy waking up wearing the mask of a stag into being the stag was a
bit abrupt.

And the one hunting the stag was Rufus, and he wasn’t wearing a mask. He actually turned into a
red wolf! His hands grew long claws and his legs were so muscled that they split open the ends
of his jeans. His redwing boots got completely shredded. In the dream images he actually liked
making rags of his clothes. But he kept yowling and growling as he changed. The shift seemed to
hurt.

At the end of his changing he stood there, a magnificent tawny specimen, regarding me with
naked desire that I could not help feeling in return. So what if he could shred me? This was a
dream. It would probably feel nice. I watched him think himself into new clothes, dark split

  leather with long fringes and silver chains hanging down. “No,” he told me in a hoarse whisper,
“I will not be shredding you. You were a bitch hound in pursuit of me the other night. Be that
bitch now.” He approached, his nostrils dilating and snuffling.

I looked down at myself to find that he had clothed me in black leather and chains to match his. I
had pointy toed boots on with wicked stomping heels. My hair had become a very short, no-nonsense
buzz of pale blond. My mouth opened wide and its edges curled back from new hard
ridges inside.

My love was close now, rubbing his wet nose along my cheek. In his eyes I saw my own snarl
reflected. I had Teeth! Each one was like an ivory cone in a semicircular row. Below was a
matching row less pointed but meeting with the others like the edge of a blunt blade. Eyes
widening I reared back, startled.

He yanked me close, claws sinking into but not piercing my leathers. He snarled and without
words I could comprehend: Oh no, you don’t. Not one move away from me. Not ever.

Without even thinking about it I hissed, snarling wider. It made my popping eyes feel as if they
were lit like lanterns from behind. I spread my fingers as wide apart as they would go and felt
sharp finials hardening on the ends of each one. I dug them into the back of his jacket between
the chains and fringe. Wham wham, they hit, with a forcefulness he had never previously felt
from his bouncy Heidi. He growled in pleasure.

He licked the jacket away from my neck.

I threw my head back and howled. My throat was bared and my one leather covered leg rose up
along his and went around his waist. I tried weighing as much as I could, pulling us backward as
his teeth began to worry at my chest. Below, his loins thrust hard into mine with each grunt and
growl, hard and deep so I felt a breeze on my lower parts every time he withdrew to plunge in
again.

He’d imagined himself so big that he didn’t even fit all the way inside. His furry balls were
swinging against my butt, seems the leather pants had no middle, but it was a far distance to
them and they hit with a slap.

Still I howled my approval, clenching with all of me, letting him tear open the front of my
leathers and use his fangs to carve reddish grooves in my breasts. He would pull away to the very
end of each and cover the streaks he’d made with his devouring tongue.

Then he clenched his claws hard into my shoulders, nearly hard enough to pop my arms out, and
simply thrust into me with his own head thrown back, panting, tongue drooling down upon his
red furred chest.

I snarled. I didn’t grow fur myself, but I felt as if my new loosened lips were inside out, and
breath hissed from my throat instead of my nostrils. I truly was a beast in this dream. It was a
powerful and solid feeling. My individuated talons sank deep into Rufus from behind, urging
him into me as far as he could go.

Suddenly he yanked me up by the shoulders and spun me, and fell onto the ground with me on
my belly under him in that dream place. His teeth nearly met as he buried them into the joining
of my neck and shoulder. I screamed and during my scream he thrust into me from behind, far
deeper than he could from the front.

I drew in a ragged breath, deep into my new fierce mouth, and screamed again as his jaws lifted
me back up into an arch away from the earth. He yelled and dropped me as his come shot into
me, all over inside me, seemed to weep out the pores of the ravaged skin of my front.

Then we lay still. It seemed as if the grasses grew taller all around us. Flowering plants bloomed
in the long grass; small trees sprang up.

And when at last we arose, we were Heidi and Rufus again.

Our leathers had worn thin during the time we’d laid there, turning back. And I was not the same
Heidi. My fingers and my mouth were new, more human. My mouth was still much tinier than
Rufy’s, but I could work the lips. From my own reflection in Rufy’s smiling blue eyes, they were
pinker than the rest of my face. I felt the way the teeth hinged together on either side, way in
back. I blinked at my reflection in his eyes, then focused my eyes out on him. They fluttered, the
lids! The other eyes up in my tiara couldn’t do that.

“Let’s see that mouth,” he said with a smile, and kissed me. When he pulled his tongue back
again, I wanted so much to follow it home with one of my own. But I didn’t have a tongue.

Instead that old inside out tube began to poke from between my shiny flexible new lips. I was
embarrassed and put my hand up to stick it back in.

“No; I like it,” said my man. “It’s your own invention.”

And to reassure me completely he grabbed me by my sagging shoulders and sucked it out into
his mouth. I began to squeal. That’s what I call the joyful noise I make anyhow, that sounds like
a balloon with a slow leak. Anyway, we kissed and practiced with my new dream mouth. I
wanted to know it very well so I could imagine it clearly when we woke up. It took a few days of
trying, but I did it. Steen said it was fetching.

~

I am releasing The Incredible Heidi Wasabi to the public! ADULTS ONLY chapter 15

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 Fifteen
The Itch

I will never, ever covet a meat body. The rubber one is quite enough, thank you. And nowadays I
am only in it on special occasions, such as when I am doing Rufus a favor. I have detached
myself from the need for the ‘thing’ entirely. I can feel perfectly well without the help of some
material tool. They’re disposable, and I am not. I am incredible, though.

That is a word Steen chose for me, and it has lovely double meanings of needing to believe. And
I no longer believe that physical attachments of a permanent nature are necessary—to me.

It took me a while to reach this belief, and I did not always believe I was complete without it.
After all, you could say that my rubber body was kind of my mother. I was born in it.

But it also led to some of the absolutely worst experiences I ever want to be subjected to and do
not wish to repeat. Such as popping, and being helplessly chewed. Such as having an itch.

One night after the show I had been on the Internet looking at underwear. Perhaps it wouldn’t
have affected me the way it did if I hadn’t been trying to figure how it would be to have these
strategic bits of lace and satin and so forth on it, but the old rubber self was crumpled and dirty
under the pillow at the moment, and I was a bit nervous about its general welfare because of that.
It might be too interesting if Steen’s little menaces got loose. So I went to find the guys, and they
hadn’t bothered to go out to any pub crawl; they were quietly getting drunk in the green room.

I curled around Rufus where he lounged in a low chair with his laptop. He was writing
something. A sweet smirk let me know he knew I was there. I imagined I had on some nice red
things that tied in bows on either side of my nipples and little mittens of matching lace with holes
for my thumbs to poke through. A film of red gauze flowed down from the cups of the thing and
red elastic straps framed my waist and hips, clamped to the tops of sheer red stockings. In these
clothes I didn’t mind having no toes.

When he glimpsed all the red his eyebrows waggled, but still he said nothing, only sipped at his
drink and kept writing. Steen and the drummer and the keyboardist were there and he wasn’t
about to draw their attention. I just lay stretched out under his legs and smiled up, feeling the
carpeting beneath me and looking at the sagging acoustic tiles above.

Suddenly I could no longer enjoy the tickle of the shag under my back. My surface felt as if it
was under attack! The microbes of my unwashed self were choosing this midnight to burst out
and make inroads into my molecular structure. I flung my red baby-doll up over my head and
began scrubbing at my midriff with the little red lace mitts. In my own hearing it sounded like
scritch scritch skreak.

But that was not the only place I was itching—perhaps it was the imagined feel of the laces, once
so pleasant, turning to torture? Once it caught my imagination it was everywhere at once—
breasts, buttocks neck arms, waist, even down my legs under the silky smooth casings.

The itch really had me. I rolled my eyes up at Rufus and he rolled his back. For crying out loud,
I heard him say in my mind, that’s disgusting.

I had nearly dislodged my breasts from the top they were supposed to be packaged by with my
increasingly frantic rubbing. I was disgusted myself, but I couldn’t stop. I was spreading misery
and didn’t blame him for being disgusted as well. Some of the newer infestations of bacteria
were like a line of tiny nipples for demons. Too high and painful to scrub loose, they protruded
maddeningly into my epidermal surface as if they would prick it. Rather than dislodging they
would crater me. I felt as if the ones I did loosen were just escaping to become dust under me.
But while an unscratched itch on my torso remained I couldn’t seem to stop. Rufus merely
grunted and tried not to watch.

I shredded the filmy stockings away in red streamers with my mind to get beneath them. He
grimaced. They remained on the carpeting like a red spotted oil slick of discomfort, but I would
not get up from under his lounging legs. It was his spunk that started this. How were we to know
it could turn to this?

When he finally folded closed the laptop and stood up, swaying from his mai tais, I stood too and
let him brush my sparkles down. He hadn’t stopped the carnage I’d done to my imaginary body,
but once it was over he wanted me to feel better right away, whether the others saw him patting
at the air or not! No, his compassion helped to dust away the scraps and flakes. I sent him hot
gratitude for his stewardship for my well being, as the skin of my swaying body of light burned
into nothingness the nightmare of itch.

 But Rufus was dizzy and so he fell back onto the chaise longue again, with me and the laptop beside him.
Parts of me touched the shag carpeting, and like evil insects the itch ran up me again.

“Oh no. Not again.” Davey looked at him quizzically when he said that, but as Rufus seemed to
be staring at nothing, he didn’t reply.

Cunt, I said into his mind, deeply unhappy. Filthy cunt, that’s me. Rufus uses that for his
ultimate swear word. He called his ex that and said I was different. But I was feeling pretty cunty
now. My self-disgust consumed me like a match shriveling at the heart of its flame.

I can’t help being a filthy bloody cunt, I continued. Steen was looking this way, ever since the
latest collapse, but I didn’t care. Did Rufus know how much it worried me when he called his
enemies cunts? Too much of me is twat and too little of everything else. I ran my mind over my
own miserable surfaces as if I were scrubbing at myself again, an inventory of the Heidi
membrane—cunt cunt cunt bloody fucking filthy cunt.

I felt black misery pouring off me into the ether from my entire surface. It dimmed all my
sparkles to gray. Happy masters of their own bodies like him could play with dirt and then just
go wash it away, make artistic facsimiles of the misery, this wretched decay, this consumption by
minutiae, and then replace all their follicles in their sleep. They were not chained to inanimate
ephemera. I felt as if I Was this gunky body, this truly horribly filthy disgusting worthless piece
of cunt shaped plastic wrinkled in the linens. I didn’t know how to let it go. It was the only life I
understood. So I cried out to the darkness to take me.

I’m not good for anything but demon fodder tonight, I told the darkness. Yes, it has a life. Take
my misery and filth as an offering. I felt the black streams of it going down the gullets of a
hundred thousand tiny astral parasites, running out from me like a spreading ink stain.

Rufus was wide eyed. It’s one thing to feel black, and quite another to feel somebody else’s
black.  “Oy,” I heard him say aloud. “Heidi’s in a mood.”

“You mean your invisible girlfriend’s in a mood?” Ole Lindendahl snorted. He’s the drummer
and it takes a lot to ruffle him. “My man, you have either had enough or too much!”

Hopefully Rufus had the laptop open, to explain why he was asserting such a thing out of the
blue. I wasn’t even looking at him anymore, nor paying much attention to the others, even Steen,
who seemed suddenly focused and awake.

“She’s rolling on the floor and calling herself a filthy cunt,” Rufus reported, as if he needed to
convince himself. I no longer cared much about anything except how the little leeches of
darkness were draining away my misery, and my awareness with it.

“What’s she got on?” slurred Murray Lin, with bemused prurience.

“Not much,” said my man. “She’s got her nightie rucked up over her head and she’s giving us a
full frontal.” He didn’t mention the hideous scabby patches of misery leaking darkness. Idly I
wondered if he could see them.

“Sounds pretty filthy,” said Steen, and from the way he sounded about to weep I could tell that
he saw, really saw. Something in me rallied and did not want to be obliterated after all. But how?

Davey Munsch spoke up, drunk as a lord and in a mood I had witnessed a good many times
before this. It usually had to do with groupies, that is, female fans equally inebriated. “We knows
what to do wif a filthy cunt, the proper treatment. Set her up Rufus me man.”

There was a moment of silence during which Rufus looked down at the state of me, his
expression quizzical. “Well, what about it?” Steen asked in a ringing voice, whereupon Rufus
met his eye and smirked. He pretended to open his laptop again. They were up to something and
I wondered with what remained of my wondering faculties if I would regret it.

“I’m sending her a picture,” Rufus replied to his audience. Indeed, a black asshole was
superimposed prominently upon my inner vision, with legs kneeling below it, his pictorial
explanation. Clear enough, and I truly didn’t care what they did to me at the moment. Darkness
is like that. Then he snapped his laptop shut again and leaned it up against the back of the
lounger.

I felt him hauling me upright by one arm and went with it. I knelt up on the chaise longue, still
bleeding blackness upward into the night.

Another nudge and I was on hands and knees.

“There,” said my keeper, and moments later I felt the abrupt abrasive penetration of a not very
large dick. A rhythm was set to which I reacted so as not to be knocked over. Rufus kept his arm
between my head and the back of the seat, which was where Davey had put his hands. Other
hands grabbed my hips to steady my access by Davey the penetrator—it was Steen.

 I looked up over my own blackened shoulder; the two were smirking like thieves at each other!

 And Davey soon yelled and sprayed the chaise lounge with musky whiteness. Then he fell over

 backward on his ass, laughing uproariously.

Rufus rubbed it onto my dangling ethereal breasts and he and Steen laughed too. I suppose it
looked like he was gesturing with fingers full of semen at the rest of the band.

“Weirdest thing I never seen,” slurred Murray, who couldn’t seem to stand up from his chair anyway.

“Was not and you know it,” retorted Ole. “Not in Steen’s neighborhood.” He just kept shaking

his head and sucking on his beer.

Meanwhile Steen had kept his hold on me and opened his own trousers. Rufus’ face began to
flush the sort of red it usually only gets when exposed to the weather, but he let Steen take me.
One of his hands began to stroke inside Steen’s shirt.

I could suddenly feel everything Steen felt. I could suddenly feel the way Rufus was nearly bent
double against the inside of his own trouser fly. What was going on?

As for myself, when the black tide had finally run away down the sucking gullets of the last of
the little astral beings, they floated away like spots on the inside of your eyelids and I was still
there, still bright, and now filled with two men’s love.

There was a stumbling and muttering as the rest of the band left. They could perhaps not see me,
but any idiot could see what was happening between Steen and Rufy, even drunk.

Soon I was a happy film of sparks crushed between them.

I was pressed to upright kneeling against the golden orange hairs on Rufus’ chest and clenching
my insides around Steen. Gigantic hands opened and exposed Rufy’s penis as well and they met
in me, kept from touching each other by nothing but me.

Rufus didn’t bother to fondle me! No, he had Steen by the beard and was savaging his mouth
above my tiara. Incidentally it was lit up like never before. Something about the run-in with
darkness had given it new shine, perhaps as bits of tarnish lingered in its crevices for contrast. I
had never felt so solid, and yet I was rolled thin as paper between my men.

Steen’s hands left Rufus and twined with mine. He crushed them in his giant ones until I could
feel every finger. Yes, I was developing into a true goddess. And as he raised my arms as high as
they would go, still rocking against me and the counterpoint set by Rufus, I felt it. I was the
Goddess. I was blessed. I was a balance between the oppositions embodied by these two males,
both so powerful. It was as if the whole night lit up in a flashing spot between the three of us,
subsiding into glittering precipitate of every hue. I made a very loud shriek that made both of
them laugh aloud, and then their hips danced in me until their release fountained out in me, on
me and each other.

Rufus bent and kissed me on my immaterial o of a mouth and I orgasmed just from that into
another display of rainbows. It drove my head back against Steen’s thudding heart and sweaty
skin. Then down Rufus pulled my face and rubbed himself with it, as he has so often before, so
that I can taste him all over. Hungry as always for the taste of his neck, and his nipples, and his
navel, and the stripe of russet hairs he calls treasure trail. His penis, though, he denied me.

And Steen gripped my hips from behind so that when Rufus withdrew I couldn’t reach it. What
were they up to now?

I began to perceive the room we were in again, as well as the prodding Steen was doing at my
insides again. He hadn’t subsided at all.

But where had Rufus gone? I lifted head and shoulder off the chaise where my top half had
fallen, scanning blindly as a newborn kitten for the direction of my dear lord. Steen was lovely,
but he was never going to be Rufus, any more than cheese could be soap.

“She’s looking for you yar,” Steen murmured, even as he rolled with me down to lie upon the
lounger behind me, those commanding hands keeping me round him. His tone was just snide
enough to intimate that I was cowed by the mighty Herren. As if! It wasn’t that he was
fearsome, just foreign.

I had never been loved by Steen alone, without Rufus there. The times I came at his summons
would be in the future. That is part of our whole story yet for me to unwind. Now he was a great
unknown, and roused in me very primal fears. Since he had my hips so tight, I had put my hands
into my own hair, not knowing where else to lay them if they could not hold my Rufy.

My two hands were joined by a third, yanking my head up at a new vector toward what could
only be my love. My vision cleared from its obstruction of panic and I could feel a smile crease
my face under my sparkling brow. It was such a relief knowing he was still there. He hadn’t
abandoned me to the unknown, any more than he had abandoned me when I was covered in gory
infectiousness.

My devoted look prompted him to send a mental snapshot of the scene through his eyes. Steen’s
shirt and pants were open but he was still fully clothed and sticking his uncovered dick into thin
air which contained the sparkly me, though for Rufy I tended to fade in and out as my mind
wandered, or was it his? He was pretty drunk! My hips and legs were mottled with red angry
spots where bacteria were still eating, like a week-old scald by the sun that had left blisters on
Rufus’ back once. But the inky darkness no longer leaked away from me. I had my sparkling
breasts heaving around shreds of red satin as well as some dangling from my shoulders, left over
from my unfortunate lingerie show. My face was turned up to him in pop-eyed, shining relief
beneath his fist in my hair.

Why leave me with Steen? I sent my thought, not really caring what he would answer, now that
he had returned. It had seemed like an endless few minutes. He gave me a mental nod,
noncommittal, informing me that he’d had to piss, and was now enjoying the show.

I let Steen finish while rolling my eyes all the way up into my head, focusing myself greedily
upon the fist in my hair, dangling from it like a veil of gauze and bliss. I felt the furnace heat of
my man’s desire rising at the sight of the both of us.

Steen felt me going diaphanous and plastered me over himself like a wet sheet, yelling ‘helvede’
with sweat rolling from his hairline to his eyes as he came straight up into the air, subsiding back
into the chaise with a shiver. He blinked, and rubbed at his eyes and his upper lip. With my eyes
swiveled backward like that I could see that detail quite well. His seed fell back upon him, even
as my man pulled me to my knees before him. Steen was left panting and envious, flat on his
back.

I perceived that Rufus must be kneeling as well, with knees against the edge of the chaise. His
hot hunger for me surrounded me like an orange mist. My mouth’s first contact with his lovely
milk and rose skin fell at shoulder level. Eagerly I tasted my way along his clavicle to the sturdy
angle of his neck and jaw. At the back of my neck I felt Steen’s sharp gaze on us.

For a brief time he let me nuzzle in that vital cleft against his pulse and the tossing of his head
and small sounds let me know he was appreciative. Yet all too soon I felt his hand on my
shoulder guiding me lower. So lower I went, licking and mouthing with my everted ring of inner
surface the wonderful texture of his chest hairs, hoping for a nipple, but most certainly finding
his left armpit.

Once there I wallowed and snuffled to get a nice load of his scent. I could almost feel Steen’s
eyes landing upon us like brushes, egging on Rufus in his reactions. I got a groan from him and a
nudge further down.

As my head was lowered I could feel my ass rising up into the air behind me, the scrubbed and

spunked on surfaces of my buttocks nearly solid from all they had been through this night. I
stretched and inflated them in the direction of our audience. I wondered if he could smell leftover
traces of himself from where he was.

Meanwhile my face was being slid gently over my lord’s rock hard, vibrating abdominals along
the hairs that helped it glide. The tube of my tongue substitute provided little impedance even as
I ran it into his salty navel in passing. My elbows contacted the chaise when my head was finally
deep in his lap. He’d sat back on his heels on the floor during this downward glide. Now he

stretched his legs out straight in front of him and leaned back. I followed his cock as it rose to
vertical, a bitch hound on the scent of him even as he slid backwards.

He must have hit a wall or something because suddenly my nose and mouth were full of his
fragrant dangles. If Rufus hadn’t been so drunk he would have let me expand my mouth until I
could fit them all the way in. But it didn’t occur to him, and I frankly didn’t care. I am a
worshipper of his crotch. Like the hound I was impersonating I inhaled and waggled my head,
rolling in the wonderful aroma. He still wasn’t what I’m used to as hard, but that didn’t concern
me either. I tickled and sucked and nuzzled and caressed whatever I met with. My nose dug in
deep; my mouth grazed the hairs of his inner thighs. I got one arm around his mighty fencing
hardened thigh and held on as if it were a swim buoy as he began to writhe. Rumbling and
roaring was coming from his throat now and it gladdened me.

Just as I was flapping my poly hair into the juncture of his legs and pubis he grabbed me and
flung me back bodily, then dived on me to flatten his whole body length against mine. His
forehead pressed against my forehead as if our brains might melt together all over my tiara. He
was trembling like a saucepan on the boil and about to lose its lid. You, I whispered, almost into
his mouth.

Then his massive tongue shot out and he was kissing me with it and fucking me and only the leg
thrown round my waist kept me from being shoved halfway back across the floor. Yes, we were
on the floor. Things lurking in the shag didn’t trouble me one bit. He hit spots inside me that
only he can hit and my glad cries sang out like bells and whistles before I could possibly stop
them, telling the whole universe it was him, him, him inside me, me, me.

What a show for Steen. I suppose that anyone else would think Rufus was having convulsions in
the corner. Who gives a flying fuck? We had made wonder out of something truly disgusting.

Later, I don’t know how much later, when we were motionless, having used up our desires
against the bulwarks of each other, Rufus noticed Steen again, at ease and regarding us. He
dragged us up to the lounger and Steen held us close with a sigh. He lectured Rufus on putting
me away dirty, but the nagging could not dampen our content.

It was nice to have Steen there. He was familiar now, more than he had been. Rufus seemed to
think it was quite natural to include him. I should have known. The link between the three of us
was already as snug as the o ring on a canning jar.

~

I am releasing The Incredible Heidi Wasabi to the public! ADULTS ONLY chapter 14

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 Fourteen
Space

I think I may as well tell you about how Rufus has used me to explore, and how it helped him do
a better job with Virgen Steel. He had to play so many roles for them. He has a big theatrical
streak in his makeup, I think, that comes from making living history. It comes in cycles, he says
— classic, renaissance, baroque, and rococo, over and over again.

I liked some of Rufy’s stage disguises. When he was a Sumerian he had a big mask of feathers
and yellow stockings. Only his eyes and mouth showed. Another time he was a phantom with
half his face white and half black. He wore a coat with long tails in back and had a cane that
turned into a rapier. The black made his hair look like wires of flame. Other times his clothes
would look like bundles of rags, or consist of just a tiny vest and flapping trousers.

But Steen was getting bored with history as a theme in his shows. We had done pirates and
knights and dragons and supernatural monsters of the Victorians and even some really old
Sumerian things where the monsters were from the ocean. But now his vision was of the future.
He and Rufus were going to have laser swords.

Rufus and I were reclining on the Beaver together and he was visualizing it for me. He had also
taught me a wonderful thing called ‘bed peace.’ He spread himself out flat on his back and
spread me out on top of him like one of those cookies that come in layers. We imagined that our

outstretched limbs were touching the edges of a large circle. And the intersection of us was
where my legs framed his to make three spokes.

Sure enough, now that I knew how to manage my own level of inflation, when we wrapped our
arms around each other and began to roll around, it was like flipping a coin. I was able to match
him until I was simply too happy to pay attention anymore and became a multicolored fuzz.
Rufus was nearly breathless himself with joyous laughter. Then he rolled over onto me and put
our third eyes together. I saw them then.

He took me through the choreography that went with their new song ‘Future World’. At a certain
point all the lights on the stage were out and then the bars of blue orange and green began to
twirl. They had batteries in the handles, obviously. The monster finally came forward, and it was
the sky!

They were going to carve up space itself! It was like a movie screen in a big wide brimmed hat
of nothing with nothing for its cloak and through it was a view of endless night and stars.
Between them Rufus, Steen and Murray made its edges recoil from their colored light sticks until
it folded in on itself and vanished.

When they were done, the lights flew back on, as bright as they would go. Their swords went
out; in fact they looked as dead as gray drumsticks. The musicians were revealed as themselves,
dripping from the effort of the conquest of illusion. Then they dropped the props and started
playing their instruments again. Of course Munsch and Ole had never left off. I thought it was
quite effective.

Why is Murray helping? I wondered as he drew back a bit so that he could breathe better.
Usually all the blade exchange took place between Steen and Rufus, except when there was a
monster to poke instead. It was quite different for Murray to leave his keyboards during a show.

Actually that was my idea and we didn’t run it by Murray yet. I just – this one’s different.
Rufus appeared to be shrinking—or rather, he was expanding me. He wrapped his arms around
my breasts and hung on as I grew.

When he was child sized I expected him to latch on, but he didn’t. Instead he got smaller yet
until he was hidden between them. He rolled me over until I was the sky above him and he was
in that crevice. He was leaning against the slant of one, patting it as if it was the cave wall.   I

hadn’t seen my sparker so tiny in a long while. His voice seemed smaller too, even though it
came from the same part of my mind. The only thing the same was that our ‘floor’ was actually
the sheets of the bus bunk. I wondered, before he continued, how they counted threads in a
thread count for sheets. That’s how long it took him to find words.

Steen comes up with these monsters, and normally I don’t mind fighting them, Heidi. That’s
because I can convince myself I’m bigger and stronger than a mere idea. But Space—it’s real.
And it’s huge. It reminds me that actually I am a small person, of no importance, and that hits
me in a place I’ve got a lot of fear about.

I would only say this to you, sweetheart. Here against the place I know your heart has got to be.
Nobody can make me believe you don’t have one, doll. I can feel the love it showers me with.
When he said that, my love surged out in a whoosh instead of a trickle for a few seconds; all over
him, like his sweat is sometimes all over me. We knew he was right without me making it into
words.

I really enjoy being a powerful dream spinning rock star, babe. But it’s all an illusion they’re in
love with—the fans, the girls, even Steen and the band. They don’t seem to know that I act the
fighter and the lover and the charmer, but the real me is a carrot headed purple faced dwarf
with zits and splotches and a tiny dick and crooked brown teeth and hair all over and I can be a
complete asshole for no reason. I’d make a really bad hound dog.

He poked his head out above my breasts then, and the Rufus I saw was all grizzled and gnarled
and had wrinkles and a lot of red fur and splotches, just like he said. His arms and legs had
become short like a child’s, but as he pulled himself out from between my mounds, his dick was
huge and dangling. I guess he’d decided to shrink everything else but that, the johnnycake. It
tickled its head against me with a mind of its own. I liked it when he lolled out his tongue from
between his big crooked teeth and arranged the crevices of his ‘hideous’ face into a leer. I guess
I’m like what they say; a person’s face is lovely to the one that loves them.

Rufus, I’m so fat I’m a blimp! I’m my own zip code! What’s more I have pop eyes and a squeaky
voice and I’m bald! But you tell me I’m a goddess. Don’t you? For emphasis I puffed out my
cheeks into pink peach balloons and bulged my eyes out and blinked them at the end of snail-like
stalks. You are the cutest furry red dwarf I ever let walk all over me.

And so the Red Dwarf went on a journey through the Heidiverse. He went on foot part way, and
shrank and expanded as required to traverse my difficult crevasses.

It tickled. But I must confess I panicked when he was inside and really tickling in earnest,
because he thought it was funny to yell, “Cuntquake!”

I thought I was going to smash him. I stuck my hand in after him as far as it would go and cried,
Grab my ring, Rufy, please!

No, you silly cunt, he replied with a bit of annoyance, which further fed my worry, unfortunately.
I managed to get his foot between fingers and thumb and began to pull. He grew a bit in response
and grabbed at my labia, refusing to be ejected.

The furrier and more wiggly he got, the tighter he fit, the more it tickled and I was squeezing in
around him despite myself.

Stop being so damn exciting, I cried. Then in desperation I gave up the struggle and simply came.
It felt like showers of hot gravel mixed with swimming in the bathtub only in colors. Rufy kicked
against my inner thigh and waved his arms above his head and his uproarious laughing continued
to shake me for quite some time.

The feeling of his feet, his beautiful elegant feet kicking at my swelling thigh on such short little
legs, rocketed ecstasy through my dreaming surfaces all over again.

I felt as if I were made of white fluorescence like the inside of a light bulb. I nearly flew away
from the mental place we were playing and back into my dreary old flat rubber self, miles away
in a little roll. But I concentrated on the lit up strands of my yellow stringy poly wig and crept
back to Rufy, sitting there on the plains of me watching the show.

He’d let up a bit on the furry dwarf business, though he had kept the beard. He looked more like
a red and gold cave man with his softly upholstered arms clasped around his knees. He was
smirking and his blue diamond eyes twinkled.

Silly Wasabi. You are made of molecules with lots of space between them. I can’t stifle. He
wrapped my limp white hand around himself like a blanket and kissed my thumb. I kissed him
back with the mouth in my palm. He snuggled his butt right into it. We both giggled at that joke.
Then he let me shrink and solidify till I was nearly the same size as he was and wrapped around
him like a satiny white blanket, still glowing.

Anyway, in the new stage show, Rufus didn’t need Murray’s help to handle the space monster
after all. They changed the effect too, so that before it folded up and was gone, it gave out a
bright sheet of white flash.

I didn’t actually attend. I watched it on the Net, in a video a fan took with their camera phone.
There are usually plenty of them a few days after a concert.

~

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.

~