Richard Leavesley

by Horror Sleaze Trash on July 11, 2013

 The bastard son of his father’s biological father’s wife, Richard Leavesley, was once published in several small press zines back when they were traditionally served up on dead slices of tree.

Man Eater

 

Without a single beat to catch his breath she is on him, pressing her sweet pink tongue into his pleasantly surprised mouth, expert fingers finding their way into his pants, squeezing, stroking, and pulling on his stiffening cock. Man, she’s good at this! So good that he’s afraid that he might cum right here and now, one second over the threshold of her flat. He struggles to call up some disturbing image; something that will keep him jizz free for just a little while longer. His grandmother in a leather thong usually does the trick, but on the other hand it can be a little distracting after a bit. He needn’t of worried. She released him just a couple of heart beats before climax, needing both hands to rip open her own shirt, revealing the most mouth wateringly perfect tits he’s ever seen. Greedily he dives in, nuzzling, kissing and biting, marvelling at how firm and flawless they are. She pushes him back for the briefest of moment- just long enough for her gain access to his shirt and rip it from his torso in one amazingly powerful movement. She presses those gorgeously juicy tits against his hairy chest, moaning softly at the friction on her hardened nipples. She presses her face against his neck (and the feel of her breath on his skin drives him crazy!) and licks her way up to his ear lobe.

Through this hurricane of pleasure he is aware of more rhythmic movement against his crotch, and realizes she is fingering herself angrily beneath her panties. He reaches down to give her a helping hand, but she grabs his wrist with her free hand and gently, but firmly forces his hand away, bringing it around the back to cup her tight buttocks, whilst all the time keeping that insanely pleasurable rhythm. Now that his hands are occupied, exploring the flawless globes of her tight little arse, she unbuckles his belt, again displaying miraculous dexterity that can only come from experience, and pulls his trousers and boxers down to his knees. Free from restraint, his eager penis points the way, flicking out into her stomach, rubbing joyfully against her solid abdominal muscles, and leaving a silky trail of semen fluid in its wake. Job done, that ingenious hand finds its way behind him, slipping confidently between his buttocks, fingers probing in and penetrating his anus. He gasps in shock, then trembles with pleasure. He shudders, every inch of him tensed up and raring to explode. “You keep that up and I’m gonna cum all over you right here and now,” he warns her.

“Do it!” she growls, probing deeper.

“Not yet,” though the thought of ejaculating heavily all over this incredible woman’s extraordinary body is so tempting at that moment that he could never blame himself, he knows that it would feel like failure after the fact, and he desperately wants to make this feeling last a little longer, “Please…” he groans, “…think of the carpet.” What the fuck is he saying? That’s pathetic!

She utters a sensual little laugh. The sound of it alone is almost enough to bring him tottering over the brink of climax. “Very well,” she withdraws those wonderful fingers from his rectum, gliding them across his naked thigh, circling them slowly, but briefly around his crotch, before settling in another firm grip around the shaft of his throbbing member, all through this she doesn’t miss a beat as she continues to rapidly stimulate her clit with the other hand. “Follow me,” she gives him no choice as she pulls him gently, but solidly by his cock down the hallway to the bedroom. His trousers hang down around his ankles, reducing him to an idiotic toddlers shuffle. He might be embarrassed, had it not been for the fact that all sense and feeling was concentrated in the joyous pleasure that shivers through his cock. It’s as though his whole being is rapturously enclosed in her perfect hand.

She back-kicks the door open, and turns on the bedrooms subdued lights, whilst all the time keeping that masterly grip on him.

“Black rubber sheets,” he observes, “kinky!” he kisses her again, enjoying the sensation of her tongue wrestling with his, and she bites his lower lip, smiling sweetly as he winces at the pain. She swivels him around, using his dick as a rudder to steer him, and pushes him firmly onto the bed.

He sits there, open mouthed, chest heaving with pure excitement, as she moves back from him a little, gracefully letting her skirt and panties drop to the floor, and stepping out of her shoes.

He can hardly breathe, just looking at her, “God, you’re perfect,” he swoons. There is no other word for her: there is no more perfect specimen of the female form. Her face, so perfect that it was untrue. That long red hair that hung classically down her perfect swan-like neck. Those piercingly green eyes that seem to glow, even in the half light of the bedroom. That perfect, cock-sucking mouth, and full, red lips that he longs to feel against his most intimate flesh. The perfect slope of her perfect breasts, peaking with those pert nipples. It makes his mouth water and his head spin to think that he’d been sucking on those just moments before. Beneath them a perfectly toned abdomen and long, slender, but femininely muscular legs that he plans to lick from heal to thigh at some point, and in the centre of this perfect vision, the most delicious looking cunt he’s ever seen, crowned with a perfectly cropped triangle of strawberry blonde hair, glistening with her womanly juices, from where she has made herself moist and ready to have him inside her. Sheer perfection.

He eagerly kicks his shoes and trousers off and makes a move toward her, irresistibly desperate to touch her again, but she beats him to it, pushing him back down, and flicks her sexy red hair into his face and lets it drift over his body, as she kisses her way down his chest, his stomach, his groin, and along the twitching shaft of his cock. She pulls the skin back with her hand, teasing the sensitive head of the penis with her tongue, flicking it around its purple helmet, and then plants the most intimate of kisses on the very tip of it, sucking in through the soft parting between her sensuous lips. He lies back on the rubber sheets, helplessly lost in ecstasy, and when she finally takes him fully into her mouth, matching the rhythm of her head with the pumping movement of her fingers at the base of his cock, the pleasure is so profound it almost makes him weep. Not once does she come up for air, but takes him deeper and deeper into her throat, her saliva steadily pooling in his pubic hair, making his balls damp. He hangs on for a good few minutes of this amazing sensation, before reasoning with himself that it was a bloody miracle he’d kept control this long, and finally lets go, cuming harder than he ever thought possible, and screaming like a frightened child as he does so. He ejaculates so heavily that it briefly occurres to him that he might drown her! She releases him, the pearlescent residue of spunk glossing her lips, and launches herself at him, passionately kissing him, open mouthed, sharing his own juices with him. This is not something that he would normally allow, but he was so hers that he would probably let her shit in his mouth if she suggested it.

He falls back on the rubber sheets, breathing hard and as spent as last month’s wages. She continues to kiss and nibble his neck and chest. “I’m sorry,” he tells her.

“Sorry for what?” she asks without breaking her nibbling activities.

“I came so quick. It couldn’t have been very good for you,” he feels awkward, and wishes he’d never said anything, sure that his insecurities are about to ruin the evening.

She laughs playfully against his chest and it tickles his skin, “Don’t worry,” she assures him, “we’ve got all night, and I’m sure I can get seconds out of you.”

She works her way back down his body and gently kisses his wilting penis, mopping up the residue of cum from around his foreskin with her tongue. As it begins to twitch back to life, she grasps it firmly around the base and moving her body oh so slowly up toward him, rubbing the head of it gradually down from her lips, over the exquisite curve of her chin, down her long, swan-like neck, and between those perfect breasts. She pushes them together around the stiffening cock, engulfing it within the two soft warm pillows, wanking it between them with perfect grace and rhythm until it is as hard as iron.

“There you see?” she coos, never once breaking rhythm, “Good as new already.”

Lost in pleasure once again, all he can do is groan in reply.

Then she stops. Broken briefly from his state of sexual Nirvana, he lifts his head and looks down along the length of his body at her, an expression of very mild disappointment crossing briefly over his face.

Her lovely green eyes shine back at him hungrily. “I need you inside me,” she tells him.

With equal hunger he cups her beautiful face in his hands and guides her up, pulling her full, juicy lips to his own once more, and at the same time lifting and turning her body in his strong arms until she is stretched out on the rubber beneath him. He parts her legs, positioning himself between them and thrusts his cock inside her.

She is so very wet and tight that, not for the first time that night, he feels convinced he must have died and gone to heaven. She lifts and tightens her formidably toned legs around his thighs and buttocks. He challenges her grip around him with increasingly powerful thrusts, and she meets every one with a perfectly timed, and equally powerful upward thrust of her pelvis. She grips his back tightly with clawed hands that rip and shred his skin. The pain only serves to fuel the fire within him. He marvels at how snug she is inside, as if an unseen hand grips the shaft from within her. He has had the pleasure of having anal sex before, but that seems a poor and uncomfortable act compared to this! And, impossibly, her cunt seems to be tightening with every thrust! Her nails dig even deeper and he is vaguely aware that warm blood is dripping down the sides of his body and onto her washboard abdomen. Her vagina closes ever tighter around his cock and now he is beginning to feel uncomfortable. He slows his pace to a near stop and suddenly his strangled dick explodes with pain; the sudden and inexplicable feeling of teeth biting deeply into the muscle. He screams and tries to pull out of her, but with impossible strength she closes her legs, like an iron vice, around his mid section, and his screams soon become the inhumanly high pitched squeals of a mortally injured animal, as his pelvis cracks and collapses under the pressure. Her claws rip right through the muscles of his back, scraping painfully against the bones of his shoulder blades, and she applies similar pressure on his upper body with her arms. He senses that his rib cage will soon give way under her incredible crushing strength. By now the hungry jaws between her legs have completely consumed his ruined sexual organs, and release him very briefly to take a bigger bite. Razor teethslice into his outer crotch and abdomen. He looks down, and through blinding sheets of pain he sees little twisting rivers of blood snaking out across her pelvis from the thatch of her pubic hair, creating a tiny crimson lake in her belly button.

He releases a gargling scream, “Noooooooooooo!!!! Pleeeeeeeeaase!!!” and pulls back a clumsy fist, ready to launch it into her face.

Quick as a blink, she releases her vice-like hold on his buckling rib cage and grabs the flailing arm, simultaneously snapping it mid forearm and pulling out of its shoulder socket in one precise yank! She releases it and lets it flap; a useless crazy zigzag at his side. Then she grabs his head at either side, digging those long, immaculately manicured nails deep into his scalp, both thumbs move quickly over his cheeks, pressing firmly, then forcibly upward and into his eye sockets.

Noooowwwaaaaaaahhhhhrrrrrrrrrr!!!!!” his screams have become almost unrecognizable as any human sound. The neighbours would definitely hear that one, but why should she care? Just another banging night of wild sex for the mad bitch next door! There will be complaints tomorrow, oh yes! So what else is new?

Her jaws open even wider, engulfing his entire mid section with a loud and hungry crunch. The limbs that represent her legs have become disjointed tentacles that wrap themselves, like constrictors, around the crushed remnants of his agonized body, pulling what’s left into her razor toothed maw. His useless legs point to the ceiling behind him at impossible right-angles.

And yet what’s left of him still lives! The screams have stopped, literally drowned out by the rising blood and shredded organ tissue that he now vomits into her face. She writhes with pleasure beneath this torrent of gore, the feel of this sticky warmth, splattering on her skin, filling her eyes and mouth, coating her beautiful face and breasts with shinny red lubrication, is pure ecstasy to her. A soft, pitiful mewling noise is the only sound that escapes him now, that and the sounds of his bones cracking. She pushes harder, increasing the pressure of her thumbs in his ruined eye sockets, “Shhh,” she whispers softly, tenderly, enjoying the taste of his blood on her tongue, “Nearly done now, my darling. Nearly done…” all the while the pressure increases until at last his eye balls pop beneath her thumbs, which then collapse into the soft meat of his brain. His body twitches briefly- a last pathetic act of struggle- and then stops. She can instantly feel him going cold. Finally she jerks his head back quickly, snapping his spine in several places…

 

Ten minutes later…

 

She lies, exhausted, in the quiet semi light on blood splattered rubber sheets, her arms and legs spread wide, pointing to the four corners of the room, and watches the pulped wreck of her lover’s head disappear behind the huge, bloated mound of her stomach. She has tenderized the head with her fists, crushing the skull as much as she could. That should make what’s left easier to digest…

 

Six hours later…

 

As the soft light of early morning creeps into her bedroom she lies snoring loudly, while her massively extended abdomen quivers and pulsates, like a giant insect’s egg sake, ready to rip open and spill out a hundred hungry cockroaches.  Inside digestive acids struggle to break down over a hundred pounds of meat and bone. You can hear it squelch, and groan beneath the heavy and unladylike snoring, as it processes the essential vitamins and nutrients that she needs to keep her self alive…

 

Nine hours later…

 

She awakens in the late afternoon, and the blood that covers her is hard and crusty. At least she is, at last, barely able to move; the swelling of her stomach as now gone down considerably, giving her the appearance of someone that is simply heavily pregnant, though she still feels massively bloated and uncomfortable. She farts, long and hard, “Ah, that’s better!” she giggles to the room. To her this is perfectly normal, but to us it has the odour of slaughtered meat.

Aware that the day is wasting away and she has so much to do, she heaves herself upright on the bed. The rubber sheet comes with her, cemented to the back of her body by dried blood. She swings her feet over the edge of the bed and manages to stand, then gently peels the sheet from her skin, and bundles it up so not too many crusty blood flecks drop to the floor. She carries it to the bathroom and begins to run the bath…

 

 

One hundred and ninety minutes later…

 

The bathroom door opens and, through the billowing mist of steam, she emerges, perfectly slim and toned once again, her skin glistening with moisture and slightly blushed with hews of peach and tan. She is radiant; the perfect picture of the human female form. Only we know that she is far from being human and quite possibly not even female as such. She stretches her tight body with feline poise and sensuality, and walks to the window, flinging open the curtains so she can enjoy the last moments of sunlight left in the day. She stands at the window in proud, naked glory, for all the world to see, basking in the golden light of the sunset. Such a pity that her way of life affords her so little time in the sunshine. Plus it mildly thrills her to think that she might snag the attention of some lonely old man, or horny teenager, or jealous woman while she is on display here!

As the sun slowly disappears beyond the horizon she turns from the window and continues her routine. She carefully removes any trace of blood from the room, replaces the rubber sheet with a fresh one from the wardrobe, sprays the place down with air fresheners. Then she sits down in front of the big bedroom mirror to “put her face on”. Of course it takes literally less than no time at all for her to make herself beautiful, but she takes her time anyway, as all stunningly attractive women tend to do.

Finally she picks an outfit, deciding to forgo underwear, and settling for a short and slinky emerald green dress that matches her eyes and clings to her body like a second skin. She checks herself, good and long, in the mirror before leaving the flat. She looks astoundingly beautiful! Just as well, because she’s painfully hungry already, and in desperate need of a man…

 

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