The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Mindtrap Manor

Chapter 4: “Nothing Goo It”

“A tribute to Cait’s wonderful Goo series.” From the mind of Limerick

“Okay, I’m going to open the door. If I see anything that looks like a pendulum, or there’s a dildo sticking out of a wall, or if there is ANYTHING with fur on it, I’m slamming it shut,” Doug said.

Tiffany and Sarah nodded. Tiffany kept wringing her hands, and wiping sweaty palms off on her jean-covered backside. Sarah tried to stay calm, and most of all, very, very logical. That seemed to be the key to survival.

They hadn’t gone far. Down one stairway with corrugated metal steps, old and creaking with each step. Doug had periodically rapped on the walls to, as he explained, “check for weak points.” The walls had sounded like... walls. Then across another long hallway, periodically lit by inset lightbulbs. And now, a door.

Doug opened the door. There was a breath-holding moment as all three of them waited for something to spurt on them. When nothing happened, the threesome walked inside.

“Hold the door,” Doug said, suddenly, when they were halfway inside. “I’m worried it will—”

The door slammed shut. There was a click.

Doug didn’t bother to finish the sentence.

But once Sarah took stock, nothing in the room looked very intimidating. There was a bare mattress stacked along the left wall, then a half-collapsed cardboard box with some sort of fabric in it. Also placed along the wall was a big wheel made up like a roulette wheel, but with nothing painted on the triangle stripes.

Doug raced forward to try the door on the opposite end of the room. It didn’t budge.

An audio tape started to play.

“Hello!” the familiar voice said, with the careful pronunciation of someone reading off a script. “Yes! Well! This is very embarrassing. I wasn’t expecting such a haul of test subjects! And, well, I got a little carried away putting together the Room of One Thousand Fluids, and the Vibro-Panties trap, and the Tentacle Room...”

The voice trailed off. The three shuddered.

“...Anyway, I sort of ran out of time for the Wheel of Sluts!”

“Wheel of Sluts?” Sarah whispered, to Tiffany. That sounded... silly, really.

“However!” the voice said. “I have managed to put together an alternate trap. Your challenge is to complete....”

There was a dramatic pause. All three tensed.

“INCREASINGLY HARD SUDOKU PUZZLES!”

The voice giggled, lamely.

“There’s a WHOLE BOOK of them on the table. Finish, and go free! Fail... and, uh, continue tryinggggg!”

A hatch opened next to the exit door, creaking on rusted hinges. They backed away. Then three or four cheap pens clattered out, and onto the floor.

“Sudoku?” Doug said. He had his hands out in karate poses. “What’s sudoku? That thing with the numbers?”

In front of them was a desk with two chairs, a pad of paper on the desk.

“Sudoku, huh?” Tiffany said. She picked up a pen, examined it, then sat in the chair. The brunette flipped through pages. The cover read “BIG BOOK OF SUPER SUDOKU!” and still had the price tag on from Barnes and Noble. It had cost $9.99.

“I think this is something we can handle,” Sarah said. She was feeling better already.

* * *

“Doug, don’t pick around in those boxes,” Tiffany said. “You should be learning how to do this.”

“I watched you. It didn’t look that hard,” Doug said. He was bent over the single cardboard box, rummaging around with both hands.

Sarah put the pen down. It really wasn’t that hard, but Doug was making her nervous. And it didn’t seem like they were in any hurry.

“What’s in there?” She asked.

Doug held up a pair of running shorts, black and shiny running shorts, glossy and made for exaggerated female forms. Then a few very large bras, a couple of flimsy skirts, and so on.

“Looks like wardrobe,” Doug reported.

“Ugh. Anything for guys in there?”

“I don’t think our captor would understand that question,” Doug moved over to the abortive Wheel of Sluts. He reached out to idly spin it.

“Don’t spin it!” Tiffany said, sharply. Doug froze. “Right, right.” He said, slowly. But Doug still poked his head behind the thing. “Oh, hey, here’s something.”

He pulled out a circular tin, with a screw-on top and a dented surface. The top was covered with a logo that read “Professional Lubrication Goo.”

The boy unscrewed the tin. Inside was a thick orange-y substance, smoothly caked level with the top of the tin. “Looks like this was to grease the wheel,” Doug speculated. He put two fingers inside, and scooped out a bare teaspoon worth of the grease.

Sarah sniffed. The goo smelled light and citrus-y, with some artificial orange scent. She got used to it quickly enough.

“Doug!” Tiffany said. “Come and watch Sarah. You’re up next.”

The boy screwed the top back on. “Fine,” he said.

The orange goo he rubbed into his hands.

* * *

Hour One

“I guess boredom is a kind of torture,” Sarah said, dropping the pen. “Done. What was my time?”

“Ten minutes,” Tiffany reported. Which meant that Sarah was two minutes ahead of her previous best. Her mind jumbled with an array of digits, one through nine. The girl glanced down at the pad of paper. It was just as thick as last time she looked.

“I’m up,” Doug said. He reached for the pen. “I swear I’m going to beat you guys, this time. I’m getting the hang of it.”

Sarah recoiled. There was a orange smear on the bottom of Doug’s lip, where it meshed with a half day’s worth of beard growth.

“Doug, are you turning orange?” she said. He dabbed at his chin, sheepish.

“Oh. That. It’s that orange wax. I was curious what it tasted like.”

The girls wrinkled their collective noses. “You licked it?” Tiffany said. “Seriously?”

“I’m bored! I wanted to see if it was orange-flavored. And it is!”

The boy took the tin from underneath his chair. He scooped out another dab, and licked it emphatically. The distant smell of orange groves once again wafted through the air. “I’m at least 85% sure it’s nutritious,” he reported.

“Just get going,” Sarah said. He took the pen from her. A bit of orange smeared on her outstretched fingers. Sarah rolled her eyes.

* * *

Hour One and a Half

“Wow, it does taste like orange,” Tiffany reported. Both girls were slouched in their respective chairs, legs swung wide, facing each other. When Doug took the pen, it was time to hurry up and wait.

“Let me try a little more,” Sarah said, reaching for the tin. She scooped a little more wax out, feeling it dig underneath her fingernails. Her index and middle finger were pretty much stained orange. The blonde sniffed at the goo—it tasted a little better that way. Then she licked at it.

Sarah closed her eyes. It didn’t taste all THAT good. In fact, she had to concentrate to make out the citrus-orange taste. And a hint of sweet, cane sugar. And something else...

“My turn,” Tiffany said.

* * *

Hour Two

“Let me have a little bit more,” Sarah said.

It was Tiffany’s turn. The room was stifling and warm, but in a dull, flat, way, like the air conditioner had busted down. Sarah had kicked off her shoes and socks, and sat cross-legged in her blue jeans. She was carefully considering rolling up the legs.

Doug was greedy with the goo. His lips were coated with it, and he liked to take big peels of the stuff, like he was scooping ice cream at Baskin Robbins, and all 31 flavors were orange.

“Sure,” Doug said. He dipped his finger in, swirled it around like a cotton candy man, and emerged with a towering pile. Sarah’s mouth watered. The orange scent had established a hold in the air, where it swirled around, full of vitamin C.

Doug stuck his finger out towards Sarah. “Take a lick,” he encouraged.

Sarah snorted. “No! Here, just give me the tin,” she reached for it. Her hands were getting sticky, and she had already wiped orange all over her thighs.

“Uh-uh,” Doug said, grinning. “You don’t want it? More for me, then.”

Tiffany turned around, letting the pen slide through orange fingers. Her eyes tracked the orange wax, and she licked at her lips, letting a pink tongue scrape up bits of goo. Then she reached over and put her lips on top of Doug’s outstretched finger.

She took her time. But when she was done, withdrawing her mouth, Doug’s finger was completely clean. The wax had been wiped off entirely.

“Thanks,” she said, and got back to work.

* * *

Hour Two and a Half

Sarah bobbed on Doug’s two fingers.

They had discovered that, if you let the wax sit for a minute or so, it solidified and turned into a harder, candy-like substance. Which meant that Doug’s index and middle had become a lollipop for the ladies. Doug didn’t seem to mind one or the other sitting on a chair, bobbing blissfully on his fingers. And for Sarah, the tantalizing wax fingers had become just too tempting to resist.

She licked hard on the backside of Doug’s fingers. They tasted salty when she made it to the underside, but she licked anyway, extracting more tasty wax from the crevice between his fingers.

Slurping the last bit, Sarah sat back and basked in the orange goo glow. Every heady breath brought in more delicious citrus, and she had an entire mouthful of the stuff. Sarah played it around her tongue, considered blowing a bubble, then giggled.

The atmosphere was very, very relaxed.

They seemed to have lucked into the most—well, not fun—but at least most relaxing torture ever. Boring puzzles, some wax... good times. Sarah rubbed discretely at her chest. The tips of her nipples felt like they were getting stung by the acid in the air, that sweet-citrus that permeated everything. She was hard and erect. And her thoughts kept turning to other pleasant ways to pass the time.

She shifted her shirt, and felt her nipples rub enchantingly along the fabric.

* * *

Hour Three

The threesome took a rest-break. The Sudoku pad was halfway completed, and Sarah had to shake her head to clear out grid after grid of black and white figures.

“I’m never looking at another number again,” Tiffany declared.

Sarah giggled. Tiffany was so funny. The girl sat splayed on her chair, her legs carelessly open and the zipper straining. The girl had long dark eyelashes, with a hint of left over purple from yesterday’s makeup. She had the same orange streaks on her lips that the rest of them sported.

“What if you need to, you know, add or subtract or something,” Sarah pointed out. She noticed, looking down, that her own legs were spread a teensy-bit wide. Doug didn’t seem to mind two girls pointing their charms at him.

Tiffany scrunched up her nose. “Too bad,” she finally said. “Those numbers can go add themselves.”

There was a pause, then all three of them laughed. Doug favored Tiffany with an outstretched scoop of goo, and the girl licked it eagerly off his palm.

* * *

Hour Three and a half

“Whoa, check this out,” Tiffany said. Doug was hunched over the pad. He wasn’t getting any faster, so the girls sat on the floor, tub of goo between them.

The girl put a bit of goo on her palm, rubbed it thin, then spread it along the length of her arm. She waited a moment, then pulled on the orange puddle. Tiffany beamed.

“What?” Sarah said.

“It shaves you! Look! I’m, you know, completely hairless there now!”

Sarah took a closer look. Tiffany’s skin was flawless tan, smooth like a pool of melted chocolate mixed with plenty of milk. There wasn’t a trace of hair left on her arm. It was like looking at an airbrusher’s artwork.

“Does it, you know, hurt?” Sarah said.

“No, it even feels good!” Tiffany said. She rubbed another application out, and took hold of Sarah’s outstretched arm. The blonde closed her eyes, and a cool, calming feeling spread up her forearm, right into her soggy mind.

“That is goooood,” Sarah purred. It felt like a blast of air conditioning. She fought an urge to lick at her arm, like a dog. By the time she opened her eyes, Tiffany had pulled up the wax. There was a slight coat of blondish hair covering it.

Both girls grinned.

Five minutes later, Sarah had discarded the last bit of wax, and was rubbing her hands up and down the length of her arms. They felt like they were wrapped in silk, then bathed in a gentle pool of latex and rubber. Sensations were intense... a little erotic. She ached to know what scraping the backside of her palms would feel like on a pair of sweaty, aching tits.

“Hey,” Tiffany whispered, conspiratorially. “Lets do our legs. Real quick.” Her eyes were glassy. Where Sarah was smooth, Tiffany was downright shiny, and, if she kept still, doll-like.

They both eyed Doug. He was absorbed entirely in Sudoku Puzzle #43.

“Doug, honey, don’t look around, okay?” Tiffany crooned.

“Fine,” Doug said, distracted.

That was good enough. The girls sprang up, unbuttoned uncomfortable jeans, and slid them down over sweaty legs. Sarah hadn’t shaven in a day, and the thought of each follicle was suddenly revolting. She had to be smooth. All-over smooth. Everywhere smooth. Completely smooth.

Tiffany smiled at her. The girl wore light blue panties, and, luckily, they were already satin. The shimmer caught the eye. Sarah looked at her cotton yellow and felt coarse, like she was wearing sandpaper.

“Want me to do your thighs?” Tiffany whispered.

Doug gritted his teeth, and concentrated on adding up tiny numbers.

* * *

Hour Four

“Unh,” Sarah said, touching her legs. Touching her arms. Touching anywhere that the goo had stripped her bare, left her as smooth as an unburnt candle. She couldn’t help the short series of moans, whispered under her breath.

Her turn at Sudoku had been agony, her body calling on her to stop all the silly numbers and play. Her skin felt alive, more then ever before, like it was a plaything for her to stroke and adore. She rubbed at her arms, at the bottoms of her legs, where she had her jeans rolled up as far as they would go.

“Unh,” Doug said, relatively loudly.

That sounded odd. Sarah looked up. Their male had wandered over to a corner of the room, his back to her and Tiffany. He sat cross-legged, and his back spasmed back and forth.

“Doug, what are you doing?” Sarah said, puzzled.

“Nothing,” Doug said. His violent left arm gave him away.

Sarah gasped. “Doug, are you MASTURBATING?” she exclaimed, rising up. The blonde stomped over, towered over the boy. Doug had unbuttoned his pants and pulled out his cock, and was furiously pumping up and down on the organ. Sarah stared at it.

There were concerns somewhere in her mind, and it DID seem sort of crass to be jacking it in front of everyone.

On the other hand... Doug was using the orange goo as a lubricant. Sarah watched the stuff squeeze between his fingers, arc down the side of his penis, then get pushed up to the shuddering tip. It mixed with a white line of pre-cum.

“Sorry...” Doug mumbled. “I was... watching... you girls... shave... got kind of excited...”

That made sense, Sarah had to admit. They had gotten a little carried away, waxing off their legs. Tiffany had knelt between her thighs, pulling off patches of hair, her nose and lips inches away from an inadequate pair of cotton panties. And Sarah could still smell the hint of wet girl that had radiated over the ever-present citrus.

The smell was even stronger here, maxed out by Doug’s endless kneading.

Tiffany was there, too. Both girls watched, eyes wide, as the boy stroked with abandon, shuddering and gasping as the two females fidgeted.

He cried out, and an impossibly long arc of cum spit out. It landed on Sarah’s shoes. She couldn’t seem to move away from it.

“Sorry about that,” Doug said. He made no move to put his dick back in his pants. Both girls tracked every twitch. “I guess there isn’t much else to do.”

“I guess... it’s okay. It’s perfectly okay,” Tiffany said, staring at his dick.

Sarah stared hard at the cum on her sneakers. Was it her, or was there a hint of orange in the white streak?

She licked her lips. They were rough with coated wax.

* * *

Hour Four and a Half

“Finally!” Sarah said, slamming her pen down. A completed puzzle stared back up at her. “Time?”

“Twenty-five minutes,” Tiffany said, glancing at her watch. She kept sneaking glances between Sarah’s cum-covered shoe and Doug’s pants. It had been a very quiet half-hour after Doug’s self-pleasure episode.

“We’re slowing down,” Tiffany said. She rose up, stretched. “I think we need to take a break.”

Sarah agreed wholeheartedly. She wasn’t hungry—which seemed odd —and she wasn’t thirsty—which seemed even more odd, now that she thought about it. But she was so, so distracted. Images of Doug’s shivering spasms kept pulsing through her head, interrupted by creamy rivers of orange goo. She licked her lips. It was getting a little difficult, they were so covered in wax.

“Hey, why don’t we see what’s in that box?” Doug suggested. He didn’t seem embarrassed anymore about his hand-play. In fact, his glances at the girl’s T&A were becoming nearly nonstop. He casually watched Sarah’s tits as she stepped out of the chair. If they bounced, he would track each jiggle. She arched her back, suddenly, and watched the sly boy trace the up and down of her heaving boobs.

Sarah stifled another laugh. She fidgeted with the zipper on her own jeans. It wasn’t really fair that Doug was the one who got to jack off on a whim. Girls had needs, too. Juicy, steamy needs, best satisfied with a quart full of lubricant streaming along one arm...

The blonde shook her head. The orange-citrus scent was tinged with the scent of boy. It was apparently making her a little hormonal.

“Look at all this STUFF!” Tiffany exclaimed, her ass pointed in Doug’s direction as she sorted through the cardboard box. Frippery things flew from each side of her, a shower of bras and skimpy skirts. Sarah strode over, caught hold of a satin pair of blue boy shorts. The material was super-slick, and she could just picture how good it would feel, over her hips.

“Dress up?” Tiffany said, coy.

“Ummmm,” Sarah hedged. “We should be getting back to the puzzle.”

Tiffany dangled a blue bra in front of her. It was just as shiny as the boyshorts, and would match her blonde hair perfectly. “Aren’t you getting just a little itchy, Sarah?” the girl teased, letting it reflect in the overhead light. The asian girl had rich, brown lips, and they creased in the middle.

Both girls turned to look at Doug. He had a grin as wide as a telephone pole.

“Turn around, horndog,” Tiffany told him. “Girl time.”

“I want to watch!” Doug protested.

“You can see the results,” Sarah promised him. She flushed. That was certainly flirtatious of her. Oh well. She had just watched the boy jack off.

The girls stripped out of their jeans as soon as Doug turned his wandering eyes resolutely towards the door. The relief was immediate. Putting on the heavy canvas things had been torture after waxing off a carpet of unsightly hair. Even in the stifling air a breeze seemed to caress the skin of her hips, the expanse of thigh between knee and tummy.

“Ready? On three.” Tiffany said, hooking the elastic of her underwear. Sarah grinned. They pulled their sweaty panties down in unison, and giggled at the sudden appearance of each other’s bush. Sarah felt a bit of unease at the thought that a few droplets of moisture might’ve made it onto her strip, but apparently her wet little slit had managed to stay contained.

“Mmm, you should see Sarah,” Tiffany teased the rigid Doug. “She’s blonde all over,”

“Tiffany!” Sarah said, mock-serious. She felt great, drugged on relaxation, melting into a pot of girlish horniness. Her tits swept the air. Two could play at this game, at least. “Doug, Tiffany is pink on the inside.”

It was Tiffany’s turn to get shocked. Two could play at this game, indeed.

* * *

Hour Four and Three-Quarters

“This bra just doesn’t fitttt,” Sarah complained, trying to close the strap. She re-checked the number. Her letter, and her usual size. So why were her boobs uncomfortable and squeezed into the blue satin piece? And it was all stretch-y, too!

“Mm, mine neither,” Tiffany said, dissatisfied. She was trying to pull off a strapless number.

Sarah squeezed at her boobs. They felt thick and heavy—but all of her felt thick and heavy. Was it her pointy nipples, trying to outgrow the rest of her?

“Girls?” Doug said. He had kept quiet for the entire dressing scene. But apparently his earlier blowoff of testosterone hadn’t done the trick. “Suggestion?”

“We are not going topless,” Tiffany told him. “It’s bad for the back!”

“Why don’t you grease them down?” Doug suggested. He held up the tub of goo, behind his back, so that he wouldn’t be tempted by four tits.

It had been at least fifteen minutes since Sarah had filled her mouth with a rich dollop of goo, and the sight of the tub made that perfectly clear. The rest of her body glowed at the silky smooth top of the pool, pulled and attracted towards the canister of tastiness. Both girls made a beeline for the stuff, tits bobbing gently with each step, nipples perked and ready.

Tiffany swiped at it, but Doug had the presence of mind to pull it away. “You’ll have to let me do it,” he said, holding the goo to his chest.

Both girls groaned. Clearly the horndog wanted to have a little more fun. Sarah couldn’t deny that it might be fun to have Doug run his rough hand all along the length of her pneumatic titties, to let him fondle at her nipples, but this was a tremend—a diff—a sticky situation!

“Okay,” she heard herself say, air leaking from the syllables. Sarah rounded the boy, and bent over awkwardly, so that Doug would have good access to her boobs. They hung in front of her, as heavy as they had ever been, nipples this time heading for the floor. She inhaled a heavy dose of goo-scent, from Doug’s lap.

The boy smeared a glaze of orange all over her boobs.

“Mmm,” Sarah said, knees getting weak. Doug worked without taking advantage of her, which the girl appreciated. He simply spread orange all over her hooters, until they were glossy and waxed with a fresh coat of goo. Then he let her suck on his fingers to clean off the remnants.

Sarah tried once again to fit her bra on. It slid nicely over the wax, and this time, she was just about able to fit the clasp. The wax sloshed gently between satin and skin, and she could still feel Doug’s hands sculpting goo onto her mounds, with an extra bit in the valley between.

Doug was working on Tiffany’s tits, and the girl was panting and sweating. Her tongue was out, pointing towards the goo, and Doug indulged her with an outstretched finger. She licked it clean.

“Okay... back... to Sudoku... I guess...” Sarah said. She picked up the pencil with one hand. The other kneaded at the hardening ball of wax around her left nipple.

* * *

Hour Five or So.

Tiffany was clearly struggling with her puzzle. Sarah sympathized. Her body had been severely uncooperative with the last puzzle, alternately itching and dripping with sweat and sex. She had the hornies so bad it was starting to cloud her every move.

The asian girl turned around. She was darkly radiant in black panties and a black bra. She looked at them, unsteadily. Patches of orange goo clung to her skin, where she had absent-mindedly wiped off a hand. Both Sarah and Tiffany had orange tits, now, pulsating in the humid heat.

“Guys, is it okay if I, you know... touch myself? While I work on this?” Her hand was already fidgeting around her panties, and her legs were spread wide. “I know it sounds a little weird, but I think the anxiety of this, plus the dress-up, plus Doug already did it.... I could just really use a tension-reliever.”

Sarah creased her forehead. Something seemed wrong with that—but she was chewing on more wax, and to be honest, her own hand was pretty much twenty-four seven over her own boobs. Now that she looked down, her panties were more than a little wet down the crease in the middle, anyway.

“Go ahead,” Doug said, encouraging. He was the Protector of the Goo. He looked a little different, too. More confident. More citrus-scented... a little orange-y, around the eye area.

“Oh, great,” Tiffany said, relieved. She turned back towards the pad, and her hand fell to the middle of her thighs. Her wide-spread legs clutched around a hand that quickly started to rub away.

“You can masturbate too, Sarah,” Doug said.

“I... better not,” Sarah demurred, trying to keep her hands from following suit. Something was buzzing her about this—something was encouraging her not to casually masturbate in front of these two. True, it would relieve a lot of tension, and maybe do something about the wetness...

“No, I guess... no, I’m not gonna,” Sarah said, and stuck her hands underneath her butt. That just made her conscious of how near to her sticky slit her fingers were.

Tiffany was quickly getting into it. She squeezed the pen so hard Sarah was dimly concerned it might snap.

Sarah squeezed her eyes shut. Something was.. wrong.. with all this. What?

* * *

Hour Something or Another

Sarah’s holes felt very, very empty.

Tiffany had gone a little crazy with the fevered pleasure of self-masturbation. She had positioned herself on the chair, and shucked her panties half-aside. Her body was nearly rigid, toes quaking with each tender stroke. She didn’t seem to mind Sarah’s stare into the pink folds of her slit, as much as she could see around Tiffany’s pistoning fingers.

The girl had finished her sudoku in record time. Then she had scooped a big orange ball from Doug’s tin, moved to a chair, and doused herself with lubricated pleasure. Most of her pussy hair had fallen out, except for a few tiny patches—wherever the goo touched, it left shiny and smooth. Waves of orange goo rippled around her finger, caressing around the fun.

It looked like SO much fun.

“Doug, I want more goo,” Sarah whined. Maybe that would keep her own hands from wandering down there. Her clit burned and rippled. Playing with her nipples wasn’t doing it anymore.

“I’m busy,” Doug murmured. He was Sudok-ing away, locked over the pad. They were well over three-quarters done, and prepared for that final push.

“But I neeeeed it,” Sarah said, pouting.

“Yeah? You do? Fine,” Doug said. He unzipped his pants, pulled out a hard and turgid cock. The sight of it didn’t bother Sarah any more. It was a dark orangish-red. “Here.”

And he slathered orange goo over his cock, then returned to work.

Sarah gaped at it. “Douuuuggg,” she exclaimed, but the boy was already back at work.

Fine. She would just... scoop it up around his... appendage. His rigid, dripping cock. No big deal. Sarah got on her hands and knees, then worked her away underneath the table, between Doug’s legs. His cock bobbed as he scribbled on the pad.

Sarah reached out with a finger, and scooped as much as she could without touching his dick. This didn’t get her a lot of goo—it got her a thin finger’s worth, barely worth the effort, that disappeared down her throat in moments.

There was no helping it. Sarah wrapped her hand around the cock. It was large—very large—and some of the wax had already soaked into his skin. But Sarah managed to get most of it off, even as the hot appendage twitched and jerked in her hand. This goo had a salty aftertaste, a musky scent that mixed in surprisingly tantalizing ways with the goo itself. Doug murmured something, and Sarah tried to rub more goo off his outstretched cock. But there were diminishing returns —this was less goo and more Doug.

There was no helping it. The rest of the goo had settled into a tantalizing, wafting shell around Doug’s cock. Sarah leaned forward and sucked hungrily at the tip of his oozing, shuddering dick.

She was instantly rewarded with not just candy-goo, but a drip, drip of the real stuff, concentrated and tangy. Encouraged, the blonde swallowed more, letting her mouth droop down the length of it, plastering her tongue all over the thing, finding hidden deposits of orange wax on the backside. She dimly realized that the good stuff— the wet, drippy stuff—was Doug’s jizz, mixed with orange and steadily coating her throat.

She moaned, and was rewarded with an increased flow.

Soon after the girl was bobbing hard, her lips wrapped around the base, licking desperately for any more lost mines of orange. Doug had put his hands under the table, and was urging her on, rewarding her intermittently with streams of orange. Sarah’s mind buckled and warped, overcome by an interplay of scent, and taste, and tactile sensation. Her hands worked at her panties, rubbing mindlessly away.

Doug came, grunting, and a fountain of goo erupted into Sarah’s welcome mouth. She swished it around, like some enchanted mouthwash, feeling it start to harden and solidify in the warmth of her own throat. Overcome, the blonde backed away, mouth coated entirely, and Doug caught her on the face with two more ropes.

The girl wiped at her forehead and stared at the sticky shots of cum.

It was a dull, orangish color.

* * *

“Guys... try and get the Sudoki thingie done... guys...” Sarah said, lamely. It was hard to talk—her mouthwash of Doug’s cum had made her mouth sticky and slow, her tongue worked sluggishly at best. She sounded dim, with a light lisp.

Her credibility wasn’t helped by the fingers pistoning helplessly in and out of her slit. It was just as hairless as Tiffany’s, now, a well-shaven and very smooth hole for lubrication.

Meanwhile, Tiffany was getting reamed over the back of the chair. Doug’s orange, tempting cock beat at the back of her pussy, a machine of citrus-scented sex.

Doug had finished his puzzle soon after he had come in Sarah’s open mouth. He hadn’t bothered to tuck his cock back away, and left it swinging around, dripping enticing droplets of orange goo from the tip. He was wide-eyed, and grinning, and stripped off his shirt. The boy had grown muscles at some point, lines of definition that seemed to glow orange under the hazy light.

Tiffany, up next, had reluctantly moved her hand from her slit and walked towards the chair. She had changed too, her tits pooching out even from an enlarged bra, heavy and thick, almost sloshing with some new engorgement. The girl’s ass was drenched in fluid, as was the rest of her, and she left behind a puddle when she got out of her masturbatory haze.

The twosome moved naturally, passing each other with mutual, admiring glances. Tiffany let her hand drift down to Doug’s cock, and was rewarded with a spritz of goo. She licked it clean, then moved in for a long, lingering kiss. If Doug was disgusted by essentially nuzzling on his own cum, he didn’t show it.

“Very nice,” Tiffany purred, rubbing on Doug’s muscles. “Come and see me soon. Puzzles are so boring and shit.”

The rest was mechanical, almost like they were on strings, responding to jerks on the twine. Doug grabbed her ass, pulled her close to a hardening cock, then sidestepped behind the dazed girl. Tiffany allowed herself to be prodded at cock-point, moved over the chair, then roughly bent over. Doug nudged at her feet, to get her stance a little wider, then simply pulled her wet underwear aside. They almost matched colors, both glistening orange in the overhead light, fitting together so smoothly Doug didn’t need to stop his first smooth stroke.

And that was that. They were fucking.

It was the wettest sex Sarah could imagine, and loud, too. Each time Doug pulled out, to ram farther in, a pitter-patter of wet juice fell onto the floor. His feet were soon coated entirely orange, lost underneath a smooth coat of solidifying orange wax.

Doug didn’t say much, but Tiffany did. She whined and purred, screaming obscenities and the occasional panted “fuck me, oh yes, right there,” in an endless staccato. She kept losing her footing, which meant that Doug supported her weight on his cock alone, letting her writhe along the length of it.

“You’re getting wax all over the sudoko pad,” Sarah said, tugging and pulling on her own nipples.

Her own chest felt wet, disconcertingly wet, suddenly and unexpectedly sticky. She looked down.

Her own chest was spurting thick, heavy cream, orange cream, each time she pulled at a nipple. Jets of orange fluid were filling each palm, staining her entire torso light orange with each pull.

It could only mean one thing.

Sarah put her mouth to a nipple, and started to suck at her own teat.

* * *

It was a curious sort of 69, more of a feeding then anything else.

Both Sarah and Tiffany were on the floor, disheveled, hair sopping wet. It was easier to find spots on her that weren’t stained orange from goo, to find places where the goo hadn’t waxed her clean, left behind a nice shiny shine. The floor was equally coated, except for a few corners, and the table was flecked from surface to bottom.

Sarah’s face was locked around Tiffany’s right tit. Every so often her mouth twitched, her tongue pulsed, as an extra-creamy jet of orange juice spurted down her throat.

Tiffany didn’t look a whole lot like Tiffany. She wasn’t really an ethnicity, she was more a kind of gooey toy, with pneumatic titties filled with a bountiful cream. Just squeeze for a healthy dose.

It was funny, Sarah thought, dully, she tasted different than Sarah’s own breast did, and Sarah tasted different then pure goo. Tiffany had a hint of real milk, a hint of orange creamsicle. Sarah detected notes of lemon and cinnamon in her own spurting chest.

Her mouth wasn’t doing too good a job at sucking. It was half-full of solid wax, and closing it entirely would be an impossible struggle. Her lips were a half-inch thick with coated wax, and locked in an O formation.

It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but more delicious, creamy, spurting, scented goo, thoughtfully provided by her good friend.

Doug was taking a break, on the mattress in the corner. He lazed in a pool of goo, half-coated in it himself. His cock looked like a wax candle, curdled with stiffening ropes of cum. One hand stroked lazily up and down, and every so often, more would shoot up and into the air. His range had expanded considerably.

Tiffany’s orangish eyes saw Sarah track another spurt. “You should try it,” she confided, her voice rough from wax coating. “He’s an amazing ride.”

“I should... puzzle,” Sarah tried to say. Her voice wasn’t working right. Oh well. They only had a few more puzzles to get through, anyway. There was enough time. And, as she remembered, Doug tasted like orange spice and freshly squeezed fruit.

She made it over, shakily, to where Doug was playing with himself. He didn’t move a lot—in fact, he seemed very stiff, his joints coated in more of the wax. Sarah pulled her useless underwear aside, and sat down heavily on a wax-encrusted cock.

It should’ve hurt, or at least she should’ve missed, but instead she felt a pulsing presence all the way up her needy slit, already starting to mix her insides up with more of the wonderful, the endless, the perfect goo. Doug seemed to wake up, and started to pump up and down, like she had put a quarter in somewhere. Her creamy boobs started to leak all over his thighs, adding more to the coating.

“Isn’t he a marvel,” Tiffany said, cooing. But it came out thick, heavy. Her mouth was starting to solidify open, too.

* * *

Doug wasn’t really moving at all, anymore. They had propped his orange, waxy form in a convenient spot, where either girl could easily impale on his handy organ. Doug’s eyes were closed, but he seemed to realize they were there, and vibrate wildly. It wasn’t clear how he was breathing, either... but the goo seemed to have taken care of it.

The goo took care of everything.

Sarah tried to hold on to the pen, but her hand had frozen in a handy jerk-off position, good for holding a cock, but not much else. The numbers swam in front of her eyes, and half of them were blotted out by big spatters of orange wax, anyway.

“Tiffany, stop,” she tried to say. The light orange model, with the beachball tits and the orange-y hair, was forcing a massive boob into Sarah’s fixed-open mouth.

Sarah closed her eyes, just before another wave of tit-milk, orange goo flooded her face. She tried to open her eyes, but it was just too tiring. It wasn’t like it was hard to find more goo, either.

She could angle her neck a little bit, to catch more spurts of goo. So Sarah did that.

* * *

Hour Ten.

The hatch opened. And a camera poked through, with a black round lens.

The room was a pool, a glistening orange one, and the scent of citrus was a living thing.

On the table was a tin of orange goo. It was completely full.

Then the camera went to admire the newest creation.

The boy was the centerpiece, ramrod straight, his feet fixed for balance in an anchoring pool of goo. His features were lost underneath the goo, but the camera thought it detected a grimace of concentration.

Down at the crotch level, the boy’s cock seamlessly melded with a girl’s bent-over butt. It was impossible to tell if he was buried in her asshole or all the way up a goo-covered pussy. It probably didn’t really matter. Both vibrated, just slightly, just enough to indicate that they were still doing their best, still pleasuring themselves as best they could. Then the faint shudder the camera had learned to recognize as another mind-breaking orgasm.

The bent-over girl was pleasuring, with one hand, a girl seated in a chair. Her fingers wriggled, just a little, deep inside a completely orange slit. The seated girl had her legs spread wide, and was nuzzling on the first girl’s tits. Her own hands were busy grasping— you could just see them move—her own boobs. They were massive.

There was another, longer shudder. A massive, joint orgasm? Something more? Hard to say.

The camera wondered which girl was the blonde, which was the asian.

Oh well.

It didn’t really matter.