Dirty Forbidden Collection

by Amira Bradford

  "My name is not Beatrice."

  "Oh, but it is. And will be for the rest of your life. Have you not read Dante? Beatrice is the guide to the other world. To heaven and hell. Will you show me heaven, Beatrice? I have seen quite enough of hell," he whispered, drawing the dull edge of the blade across her throat.

  He stared up at the mirrors on the ceiling. "Do you see our eyes, Beatrice?" She looked up to see a thousand eyes staring at her, seeking out their one true self. "They are the eyes of the dead," he told her. "We are already dead, you and I."

  "I should tell you something," she said. "I am not what I seem to be. I am a policewoman."

  "Oh and do I have the right to remain silent, Beatrice?" he snickered. "How naive do you think I am? They are looking for me very intensely. Where is your backup, Beatrice? No policewoman knowing who I am would allow herself to be cuffed as you did."

  "Let's just say I'm doing this on my spare time," she told him, watching his dead eyes for any sign of a reaction.

  He chuckled at that. "Nice try, Beatrice, but I am afraid you are nothing but a common whore. Let me show you your predecessors, Beatrice, my former guides who were so good as to accompany me partway into the afterlife."

  He walked to the large freezer that was busily humming away in the corner of the room and opened the top. Looking at the ceiling mirror, she could see the frozen heads nestled within. Piles of them. He pulled one out and carried it over to the bed. Despite the pallor of the skin, the frost over the eyes and cheek, she recognized it as that of Renata Santiago, the whore that had gone missing back in May, before her body parts were discovered in a dumpster off Graylock Street. All that is but the head that now stared at her through spectacles of white ice. The eighth victim.

  'This is Athena, Beatrice. The goddess of wisdom. One of the best. It is very cold where she has gone. Could you perhaps provide her some comfort?" He placed Santiago's frozen lips over her breast, the frost burning her nipple, which became instantly erect. She felt a thrill go through her whole body as he pressed the head more tightly against her breast before removing it and replacing it gently in the icebox.

  "You could give yourself up," she said softly. "You don't have to do this."

  "Oh but I do, don't you see. I very much have to do this," he said.

  "Soon you will be joining my other guides to heaven," he said, indicating the icebox with his black eyes, "but first you must show me the way."

  He ran his tongue up her leg, over her knee, up her inner thigh to the aching crack between her legs. His arm muscles were steel pistons, flexing as he lapped her. The touch of his tongue was electric, and she opened herself to him, overcome by wave after wave of the greatest pleasure she had ever known. She arched into him, cramming her mound against his face as he sucked her, and then he was climbing up her, his muscles rock hard against her soft breasts and his tongue found her other mouth and she sucked it as he thrust into her, six inches at first, then eight, then the full ten as he reached depths within her that no man ever had and she sucked him into her, her whole body a mouth seeking to engulf him, to keep him within her forever.

  Her tongue swirled around his earlobe as he pumped faster and faster into her. "I am death come to receive you," she whispered to him as he exploded inside her, the warmth of his seed spraying her womb, suffusing her body with a glow she had not thought possible.

  "You are the best of them, Beatrice," he whispered later as they lay there together, his legs wrapped around her, his hand softly cupping her breast. "You will be the one to show me the way where the others failed. You are death itself. I will return to you, Beatrice, and you will show me the way to heaven. Sleep well, my angel." He got off the bed and shuffled into the next room, leaving her in the darkness.

  When she woke, she could hear him breathing softly in the next room. It was best not to press her luck, she thought. While the coroner said there had been multiple attacks on each victim, he could not say how many. The second could be the last. Reluctantly, her body still basking in the pleasure of his touch, she reached for the hairpin and began working the lock on the cuffs. She knew the gun still sat unmolested in her purse.

  The man's eyes opened when he felt the cold of the steel barrel pressing against her temple. "You should have believed me," she said, raising her badge to his face. "I'm detective Veronica Hughes of the L.A.P.D., and you're just the man we have been looking for. That I've been looking for.

  "Take those off," she said, indicating his pajamas. He looked at her strangely as if wondering at her nakedness, but complied, pulling off his shirt, then standing and dropping his pants to the floor.

  "I thought you were special, Beatrice. I thought you were the one. You don't know how disappointed I am," he said, his eyes never leaving her huge breasts.

  "Now put these on," she said, tossing him the handcuffs.

  He shut the clasps over both wrists and looked at her expectantly.

  "Now get in there." she said, indicating the first bedroom. He got up and walked into the room across the hall.

  "Now get on that," she said, indicating the four-poster. He looked at her strangely then, but climbed on the bed.

  "Now lie down," she said.

  He lay down on his back, and she could see that he was becoming erect, already eight inches at least. She took the other pair of cuffs and closed the bracelet around his right wrist and cuffed him to the eyehook. She unlocked the other cuff from his right hand and climbed over him, her cunt on his nose, to cuff his left hand to the other eyehook.

  She held the gun against his temple. "Don't even think about moving," she told him, and she slid down his body to tie his legs with the leather straps. Now Mr. Death was himself tied to the bed, naked, spread eagled and helpless.

  She climbed up him, her moist cunt tracing its way up his hard chest. "Oh, but I am the one," she told him. "I am Kali, the bringer of death. I have tasted its pleasures a thousand times. I will take you places you have never been before.

  She sat on his face, her cunt engulfing his mouth and nose. "Come to me," she told him. "Taste your death." She began to rock on his face as his tongue found her, swirling around her clitoris, probing her vagina, running along the inner lining of her labia. She grabbed his hair and pressed into him, rocking more violently, feeling his crushed nose sliding up and down her cunt, as he lapped her harder and harder until she finally spent, releasing her fluids all over his face, her juices running down his cheeks, staining the perfect black satin of the sheet beneath him.

  She kissed him violently and then slid down the sheets until his magnificent cock was finally resting against her cheek. She fingered the base as she took it inside her mouth, feeling his whole body shiver as she took it deeply within her, cramming it down her throat while she fondled his swelling balls, filled with the juices of life. She took each ball in her mouth and sucked it as she slid her hand up and down his cock, touching it gently at first, then more violently, squeezing it to hold back the flow. She lapped underneath the head, then took the helmet in her mouth as she gave his balls a final squeeze before climbing up him to impale herself on him, his ten inches sliding into her secret depths, and she reached across him, her nipples brushing briefly across his chest as she retrieved the carving knife from the nightstand.

  She traced its sharp point down his chest, drawing a thin line of blood as she began to rock on him, and she could feel him becoming even harder and longer as she played the cold steel of the blade over his chest and took him deeper insider her, thrusting herself violently down upon him.

  He looked at her with love in his eyes as he arched his body into her. She felt his muscles tighten as he prepared to come and she drew the blade quickly across his abdomen, watching the surprise in his eyes as his gigantic prick grew even longer within her and she pumped him harder and faster, feeling the glow within her body building to a crescendo she had not thought possible. Her whole body shuddered as he came in a violent, rushing torrent inside her, his last seeds of life despera
tely seeking a new home as she felt the warmth inside her mixing with the hot fluid from his entrails as they spilled from his ruined stomach.

  She leaned over to kiss him and brushed his hair out of his eyes. "You're so right, darling. Fucking the dying is much better than fucking the living. So much better." She saw the recognition in his eyes before the light faded. And the slight smile at the corners of his lips.

  In the mirror she could see the icebox, filled with teachers waiting to be reunited with their star pupil.

  The End.

  Human Candy

  I sat in the backseat of our van, splitting my time between watching the scenery go by and reading my novel I had brought along especially for the trip. My little sister Nicole, who had just turned 13, was lying up against my arm, sleeping. I rolled my eyes. It's not like we had been on the road for all that long.

  My parents had decided that, since this was my last summer before heading off to college, that we should all take a trip together up to Lake Geneva in Wisconsin. I loved Lake Geneva, but there was a small price to pay. I also had relatives up there we were planning to visit. You know, aunts and uncles you really don't know saying how you've grown from a little girl into a woman in just a few short years.

  We were planning to stay in a nice little hotel. A room for my sister and I and then connected to our room, through a separate doorway, was to be our parents room. We had stayed at this particular hotel before and liked it the last time.

  Somewhere along the line I fell asleep and I woke up with someone shaking my shoulder.

  "Candy...Candy...Candy!"

  I woke up to see Nicole shaking me. "What do you want?" I asked irritably.

  "I wanted to know if you had any gum."

  "This is what you woke me up for? Gum?"

  I shook my head and reached into my bag that was on the floor of the van and fished out a piece of gum for her and pulled out a piece for myself. Of course, my real name was Candace, but I prefer everyone to call me Candy. It sort of fits my personality too. I like candy, boys consider me eye candy and I still like candy - well, human candy, that is. I had played around with a few boys' dicks in high school and had sex a few times with one boy. I had sucked one boy off and given a couple of others hand jobs. It was a pleasurable experience, for both myself and the boys. I enjoyed making them hard with my sexy outfits and flirtatious manner. My parents warned me not to tease, that it would only get me in trouble with adult men and that it would be more than I could handle. I hadn't had any trouble from adult men, though. That is, not yet.

  My Dad, sitting in the front, announced that we had made our destination. We were planning to stay a week and so I grabbed my duffel bag and slid the door open, letting Nicole out too and then slamming the door shut. We stretched our limbs and looked around. It was so lovely. The beach was full with kids playing with beach balls and volleyballs, the sun shining brightly, the rushing water.

  My father came around to my side of the van. "Come on, kiddo, let's go get checked in." He lowered his voice. "And don't you think you should tuck your shirt in?"

  I looked down at my outfit. I was wearing tight jean shorts that were tight on my bottom and a button-up shirt with the bottom few buttons undone and the tails tied a couple inches under my breasts.

  "No, I don't think so Daddy. See, with it tied up like this, the shirt would only look wrinkled if I untied the knot and tucked it in."

  He growled irritably at my defiance and we walked behind my Mom and sister who were already ahead of us, walking to the hotel lobby. My Dad and I walked into the lobby and the cool air hit us. I'm proud to say I got a few glances from men as we walked to the front desk. My Dad told them our name and so forth and that we had reservations. After a few minutes, four card keys were made for us for rooms 220 and 221. We walked into the elevator and my sister and I agreed we'd take room 220. My parents agreed to take 221 (like they had a choice).

  We walked into our assigned rooms and it looked like your regular hotel room, only a little bit more decorated. Two double beds, a low dresser with a television on it, a bathroom and so forth. I was tired from the trip, but excited! My Dad poked his head into our bedroom.

  "Hey girls, I'm going out the arcade, either one of you want to come with me?"

  "I will!" Nicole squealed.

  My Dad looked at me questioningly.

  "No thanks Dad, I'm going to take a bath and then I'm going to go out to the beach or take a walk or something."

  "Not a problem precious, just don't wander off too far. And keep quiet in here because your mother's going to be in our room taking a nap."

  I nodded and brought my bubble bath and things into the bathroom and started filling up the tub. I shut the door behind me. I lifted up my arm. I smelled awful from the car ride. While the tub filled up, I undressed and studied my body in the full-length mirror on the back of the bathroom door. I was quite proud of my eighteen year-old body. When I first hit puberty, I had the customary training bra and then I went to a size 32A. Well that size simply did not satisfy me and my chest knew it, the last year my chest growing to a 34C. I liked having big breasts. I was 5'4" and my measurements were 34-24-36. I had naturally wavy, thick brown hair that curled it's way down to my bra hooks in the back.

  I put my hair up onto my head with a clip and slid into the tub and laid there for a while. It was nice to stretch out after being cramped in a car seat for so long. My parents didn't know of my intentions when I said I was "going for a walk or something". Sure, I was going to go for a walk, but I was hoping to meeting a man along the way. I wanted to flaunt my body, get stares, cat calls. Some women may find these things demeaning, but I don't - I just simply look at it as doing a good job of being a young girl.

  I washed my body and shaved from ankle to armpit, then stepped out of the tub, dried my self off and put my robe on. I took out my clean clothes that I was going to wear. My red string bikini and over my bottoms, of course, would be another pair of tight jean shorts and over my top would be a white button-up shirt that I would leave unbuttoned.

  I let my body dry off for about twenty minutes, then started to get myself ready. I put on my bikini and then my shorts over it. I rolled on clear deodorant, a few squirts of perfume and slipped on my shirt over my top. I unclipped my hair from it's cage. I combed through it thoroughly and pulled the sides back with barrettes. After applying a little bit of makeup around my green eyes, I went out into the fresh air.

  At Lake Geneva, they not only had a wonderful beach to play on, but shops one could spend a whole day walking past and looking through. I would look at them later though. A man caught my eye. He was standing at an ice cream stand with a dog on a leash. I was admiring him from afar. He was wearing brown shorts and a white shirt tucked in. He had a wonderful head of thick black hair and I melted when I saw his big blue eyes grinning and talking with the ice cream man. If I thought I had melted enough, I could feel my pussy gush with excitement when he reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. Oh my, he had a wonderful behind and a wonderful body. Standing only about 5'7" with an unassuming, slim frame, he looked beautiful to me. I suddenly decided I wanted an ice cream cone too.

  He was the only one at the ice cream stand and I stood behind him. The man gave him his change back and he turned around so abruptly and suddenly that he smashed his vanilla ice cream cone into my chest. I squealed out loud at first at it's coldness.

  "Oh my gosh, Miss," he said. "I'm so sorry."

  I looked down at my chest. There was a large smear of vanilla ice cream cone on my white shirt and a thin layer of it on my swelling breasts that were stuffed inside my bikini top. I started to giggle and he started to laugh too in a deep laugh. We went up to the stand, asking for napkins and he, being a gentleman, let me clean my chest off by myself, though I noticed my tits drew his attention some. I teasingly wiped the ice cream off of the top of my bare breasts, reluctantly though, as it looked like a layer of cum.

  I laughed, "It's quite alri
ght, it matches my shirt!"

  He laughed. "It certainly does at that, young lady. I don't suppose you're in the mood for ice cream now, are you?"

  "I am," I said. "Even more so, now!"

  He chuckled and smiled at me, "Well, at least let me pay for it. What would you like?"

  "Thanks," I said. "A chocolate cone, please."

  He told the man my order and gave me my cone. I took my dessert and thanked him. The man with the beautiful blue eyes stroked his hair back with his fingers and looked up at me shyly, "Jimmy here," he said, patting his dog, "and I were just going to go for a walk, would you like to join us?"

  I smiled at him, "Sure, I would like to."

  We walked along the sidewalk and talked. I think Jimmy took a liking to me, as he kept walking in front of me and looking up at me, at which I would say hello in my high voice and make a funny face at him by twisting my mouth into a small "o", raising my eyebrows and opening my eyes wide. Jimmy would then wag his tail and pant approvingly, enjoying our joking back and forth.

  The man (who's name I had yet to learn) seemed to really enjoy the connection between Jimmy and I and he laughed in a low, deep chuckle that I found sexually suggestive, as if he was getting some sort of carnal pleasure out of me. I think every girl reading this probably knows what sort of laugh I mean. It's one of those laughs that happen a thousand times a day, but something you really have to study to recognize.

  Jimmy was almost as cute as his owner and we stopped so I could stoop down to pet him. He wasn't a small dog, being a yellow lab. He was wagging his tail and sniffed my shirt, licking at the old ice cream stain, I laughed but then pushed him away when he began to bury his nose into my cleavage. I giggled and stood up.

  "He's a very forward dog," I said, with a smile.

  He looked down at my cleavage for a moment, moist from the dog's nose. "I don't blame him," he grinned.

  All this and we didn't even learn each other's names yet! He seemed to be thinking the same thing and we shyly introduced ourselves and shook hands. I learned that his name was Joe Monicci, age 39, and that he was, of course (as one could tell by his last name), an Italian. I had always been curious about Italian men. A friend of mine had dated an Italian man and she told me that he had a big cock and was good in bed. I didn't know how far my friendship with Joe would go, but I thought about these things as we walked and talked. Did he have a nice big one to please a young girl with? Did he make love all night with sweat rolling down his back and panting in ecstasy and exhaustion while he was giving it to a girl?