Bolt : Wank Wednesday

It's Wank Wednesday again as hosted by Ruby Kiddell at The Erotic Notebook. Here is how she explains it :

Welcome to week eight of Wank Wednesday, your weekly festival of smut. 

With so many great writers of smut and erotica on Twitter and the web I thought it would be a nice idea to get a smutty blog carnival going. For writers or would be writers a weekly prompt will get you writing and as a reader well you’ll be able to get your fix of sexy stories all in one go.

To join in all you need to do is write a story with the weekly prompt as a title. This week’s prompt is #Bolt. Then:

• Blog it – post it on your blog then come back here and add it to the link list.

• Tweet it – write it on twitter using the prompt hashtag and the #wankwednesday hashtag

• Add it – if you don’t want to blog or tweet it then please do add it as comment to my post

• WE it – if you are a member at Word Ejaculation you can submit with them too, just remember to link back to me here and to add your entry to the link list.

Please link back to this page in your post and please also do take the time to read and comment on the other contributors, we’ll all keep on writing but it is so much nicer to do so with feedback.

Thank you for writing and reading.

Bolt

You were made by God, dear reader, but I was not. I am the handiwork of one Frau Baroness Von Frankenstein, P.M.S.*

One day they will say of me that I had the hands of a surgeon, the body of an athlete and the face of an artist's model. This is quite literally the case. My hands once belonged to Dr. Seymour Kuntz, the famous Austrian gynecologist. The bulk of my body belonged to the Scottish amateur rugby player and professional thief, Rob Banks. And my face was that of German artist's model, turned stage actor, turned strangler of pretty women, Hart Throb. Throb had really lost his head while on tour in Paris. The guillotine will do that to you. My brain is that of the Baroness's late hunchbacked assistant, Ygor. And my cock belonged to... Well, I don't know. Some guy who had an enormous cock.

The Baroness claims to be a benefactor of mankind, but one has to ask, if that is the case, why she has kept me a secret to the rest of the world. The answer, it seems to me, is obvious. Sex slaves are hard to come by in Bavaria at the moment, especially sex slaves with ten inch cocks.

So that is how I came to be lying chained and naked on a pile of animals skins in the dungeon. Each night I would hear the key turn in the lock, then the bolt would slide back and the Baroness would open the door. She was always stark naked. She would stand over me for a while with her legs spread defiantly. She would look down at me and play with herself. I could tell that she loved the anticipation of impaling herself on my mighty cock, which always rose to the occasion with great alacrity.

I had mixed feelings about being fucked by the Baroness. She took me for granted. She treated me like a piece of meat. And she clearly had no fondness for me as an individual. In the body of Ygor she had beaten me mercilessly. Why did I put up with it? Well, jobs for hunchbacks were not plentiful, and there was no union for mad scientist's lab assistants.

But I had my own physical needs. When your mother is the grave and your father is a lightning bolt it tends to make you kind of horny. And death has a way of removing one's inhibitions. So I fucked her and sucked her and filled her with cum. But it always left me feeling dirty.

So, on this particular night, it was with the usual combination of stiff cock and heavy heart that I heard the key turn in the lock and the bolt slide back on the door. But when the door opened I saw that it was not the Baroness, but a very pretty servant girl with whom I was not acquainted.

"The Baroness was very careless to go out and leave her keys in the door," said the rosy-cheeked raven-haired beauty.

"And you are a very brave girl to enter the monster's cage," I pointed out.

"Monster?" she queried, and then looked down at my erect penis. "Oh, my, you're right. You do have a monster!"

"Sadly, I myself, am a monster," I explained. "Your mistress made me out of a pile of corpses."

"Yes," said the maid. "She always has been into recycling."

"You mean that I do not disgust you?" I asked.

"Nah," she replied. "I've seen stiffs before."

"You clean in the Baroness's laboratory perhaps?" I queried.

"Yeah, I've seen it all. Brains in tanks. Two-headed cats. You name it. And loads of stiffs. Although," she added, giggling, "never a stiff with a stiff."

She came over and sat down beside me. Then she looked me in the eye with a cheeky smile and began stroking my stiff cock.

"What's your name, my sweet?" I asked her.

"Dora Bull," she replied.

"Not the Dora Bull, toast of the London dance halls?" I queried.

"No, I'm not the Dora Bull, but I'm a Dora Bull," she told me.

"You certainly are," I agreed, kissing her on the nose. "You wouldn't happen to have the keys to these shackles?"

"I do," she said, hesitantly, "but how do I know that, if I unlock you, you won't rip off all of my clothes, throw me down on the floor and ravish my tender maidenhood with your enormous cock."

"I promise that I will act towards you as a perfect gentleman," I assured her.

"Oh, well," she said, sounding disappointed. "I suppose I better set you free anyway."

So saying, she grabbed the set of keys out of the door and set about unlocking my ankle bracelets. In no time at all I was free.

"Guess what?" I smiled.

"What?" she asked.

"I lied," I informed her, grabbing the neck of her servant's dress with both hands and rending it down the middle, thus setting free her soft, pale breasts.

"Oh, goodie!" she cried, as I ripped off her bloomers, and threw her, now completely naked, onto the pile of animals skins.

I was made for making love. My athlete's body knew how to hold a woman. My actor's eyes knew how to gaze adoringly into hers while my actor's lips kissed passionately. My gynecologist's hands knew their way around a woman's pussy. And my cock... Well, my cock knew how to be enormous.

"Ouch!" cried Dora, as I slid my battering ram deep into her furry fortress.

"You'll get used to it," I assured her, rolling over so that she could be on top.

"Mind if I hang onto your bolts?" she asked, grasping the metal protrusions that adorned each side of my neck.

"Actually, they're not bolts," I explained. "They're electrodes."

"Oh," she replied. "They sure look like bolts."

"Well, they're not. O.K.?" I told her, testily.

"No need to get snarky about it," she whined.

So I spanked her hard on the bottom for being so impertinent. She seemed to like it and rode up and down on my throbbing cock all the more vigorously.

"It's certainly a delight to be able to fuck someone as charming as yourself," I informed her, as I pulled her down so that her soft breasts squashed against my barrel of a chest, and played gently around her bottomhole with the index finger of my right hand. "The Baroness is such a cunt. She likes to come on all Godlike in the sack, which is a real drag."

"Oh, the Baroness is nuts," agreed Dora. "Hey, I made a funny. Nuts. Nuts and bolts."

"They're not fucking bolts, O.K.!" I shouted, grabbing her by the throat.

"Ooooooh! Ooooooh! Choke me!" she cried. "I love that!"

Well, it was only a couple more minutes before I came so hard that Dora flew about a foot up in the air, her pussy surrendering my exploding cock with an all-mighty "Plop!" and her already tender bottom landed painfully on the cold hard floor. Lightning, I tell ya, it does strange things to the human reproductive system.

"I will forever be indebted to you, my darling Dora, for freeing me from my piteous state of bondage," I proclaimed, bowing graciously.

"Don't mention it tall, dark and gruesome," she laughed, as she waved goodbye.

And with that I bounded down the corridor, up the stairs, and out into the blinding light of a sunny afternoon.

I wandered off through the woods, having no idea what to do next.

About mid-afternoon I came upon an open glade on the shore of a placid lake. There I discovered a little girl with freckles and red hair woven into plaits. She was picking flowers.

As I walked closer, my mighty shadow fell across her and she turned her innocent, trusting gaze my way. First she looked at my feet, and then her gaze went up and up and up until it reached my face. And she smiled, the warm smile of a child who has not yet learned that all in this world do not mean her well.

"Nice bolts!" she said.

So I picked her up and threw her in the lake and went on my way.

It was only about a half-hour later that I came upon a stone cottage. Clearly it was inhabited as a thin plume of smoke drifted up from its chimney.

Before knocking on the door, I thought I had better get some idea of who lived there. Not everyone takes kindly to a naked monster with a ten-inch cock knocking on their door in the middle of the afternoon.

When I went around the side and looked in the window I was surprised to see that the sole inhabitant was a beautiful blonde girl who was, like me, completely naked. I soon came to suspect that she was also blind, as she put her hands out in front of her as she walked around, patting the furniture.

This was a piece of luck. She needn't know that I was a monster, or that I was naked. And she might be persuaded to provide me with some sustenance.

So I knocked on the front door and soon the blind girl opened it, though only far enough to poke her head around it.

"Can I help you?" she asked. "I am blind so I'm afraid I cannot see who you are."

"I am but a wayfaring stranger, looking for a place to rest his weary feet and perhaps partake of a cup of tea," I replied.

"O.K.," she said. "But I had better put something on. I never wear any clothes in this sort of weather. It seems kind of pointless since I never have company and I myself cannot see what I am wearing."

"Please do not trouble yourself," I replied. "For I too am a nudist out on a clothes-free ramble."

"Oh, you are?" she cried, happily. "Then come right in."

"Henrietta is my name," she informed me, reaching out to shake my hand. But she was a good deal shorter than me and what she grabbed was my semi-erect cock. "Oh, my!" she exclaimed. "You didn't tell me you were a salami salesman."

"I am not a merchant of smallgoods," I assured her.

"No, it's certainly not small, and it is getting bigger in my hand," she pointed out. "It's your cock, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is," I admitted. "And this is your bottom and these are your boobs..."

"It's not nice of you take advantage of a poor girl's disability," she informed me, but the way that she was happily wanking on my cock told me she really didn't mind.

And so, as she prepared us each a cup of tea, we enjoyed a game of Blind Girl in the Buff. I would come up and lick one of her nipples and run away before she could reach out and grab me. And next it might be a finger her in pussy, or I would smack her bottom with my stiff cock. And each time I would manage to slip away from between her questing hands.

Eventually, the tea was ready and she placed the two cups on the table. I sat down on one of the wooden chairs. And then, much to my surprise, Henrietta sat on my lap.

"Oh!" she cried. "I thought you sat in the other chair."

By some miraculous coincidence, as she sat down her suspiciously wet pussy slid right down over my upstanding prick.

"That's O.K.," I replied. "You can stay there if you are comfortable."

"Oh, I'm very comfortable," she sighed.

Thus did it come to pass that I sat with my tea cup in my right hand and my left hand under Henrietta's left thigh so that my super strong left biceps could bounce her up and down on my rigid member as we drank our tea.

"This sure beats cucumber sandwiches!" she exclaimed.

Then she turned to kiss me and her hand fell upon one of my electrodes.

"Why do you have a bolt in your neck?" she asked.

"It's not a bolt. It's an electrode," I sighed.

"Oh, O.K.," she replied.

I reached down and gently stroked her stiff clit as I continued to bounce her up and down on my cock. Soon she was quivering in ecstasy as I spurted a quart of jism up her pussy. I made sure to hold her tight as I didn't want a repeat of what had happened to Dora.

Just at this moment I noticed a distant sound of yelling. It was coming closer. When I looked out the window I could see a procession of women carrying torches approaching through the forest.

"Monster! Monster!" they were crying.

Dora must have been gossiping I thought to myself. There was no other way these women could have known of my existence.

"Normally I wouldn't mind the idea of a woman carrying a torch for me," I muttered, "but this is ridiculous."

"We've heard that there is a monster on the rampage ravishing women with his enormous cock," cried the leader of the mob. "And we are determined to protect the village even if it means sacrificing our own vaginas!"

"They sound like they mean business," said Henrietta. "You'd better bolt!"

*Professor of Mad Science.