Help! My Bimbo Erotica is Coming to Life!
Lacey Liu
Chapter 5
“The cougars are out!” Jerome shouted.
Scarlett grabbed Lucy out of her horrified entrancement. Their feet pounded against the pavement and against their ears.
There were distant noises, now. Muffled explosions. Ear-splitting screams of unmistakable pleasure. Screeches of horror that slid imperceptibly into guttural desire as they passed, like a kind of perverted Doppler effect. Another ordinary woman, raped, violated, and twisted into a subhuman creature that not only enjoyed it, but lived for it, craved it, existed only as an object of male and female fantasy...
And something in Lucy wanted to join them. To scream “over here!” and let the onslaught of sexual depravity engulf her, silence her thoughts, drain her brain out her pussy, reduce her to the simplest possible terms: the Asian pussy.
She was lucky she was too out of breath. She focused on silently cursing the newfound endurance of both Jerome and Scarlett, cock-wielders who could wield cock all night, keep her stuffed and docile until she submitted forever...
They came to a halt at City Park, the single square block of greenery that the city fathers had set aside for the community.
“Jerome, where’s you crib?” Scarlett asked, before turning scarlet. Her dress throbbed. “Sorry...”
“I know what I look like.” His voice was ...neutral. Deep. Dark. He didn’t like that the white bitch had dropped Ebonics on him...but he didn’t dislike it either. “Way out in the Richmond. We’d never make it, especially if the bus driver’s readier to give my fuckstick a blowjob than keep her eyes on the road.”
Lucy lost her shit. Her throbbing, slick pussy had nothing to do with it.
“Jerome...why?!” She demanded.
He flexed at her. Damn him.
“What?” He rumbled, and Lucy felt it in her va... her pu... her cunt.
“A goddamn were-alpha, Jerome?” She stared at the muscle bulging around the scratch, though the magic had no doubt spread throughout his bloodstream.
He just shrugged, majestically, masculinely.
“It do be like that.” His voice was husky and deep like how Dad’s good whiskey tastes. “Can’t say I object too much. I’m bigger, stronger, more confident...hell yeah, I’m finally getting what I deserve.”
That was the thing with alphas, the entitlement. By night’s end, unless they held out and reversed everything somehow, Jerome would swagger through life with the sexual politics of a Neanderthal and the charm, physicality, and sexual prowess to get away with it.
Another animal in the bimbo kingdom. Like them.
“Jesus!” Lucy cried. “Thank God I never wrote tentacle porn!”
A slithery thumping from across the street drained the blood from her face. Lucy sucked in her breath.
“Jerome...” She growled.
“I just wanted to give it a try!” He insisted. Lucy gave him a look so dirty, it was banned on Amazon.
A good idea flashed through Lucy’s head. Yes! She shook the cobwebs of slutty little Asian bimbohood from between the unsexy black locks plastered against her temples.
“The bookstore!” She gasped. “It’s gotta be there!”
Their stories were coming to life. Surely the city’s repository of rare and used books would furnish the answer!
Or, if not, Lucy had started a draft of Bimbo Grimoire where the book really could reverse the spell. Her first consensual piece! Lucy would have smirked if she wasn’t panting. If she couldn’t get rid of the erotica coming to life, she might as well turn it to their advantage.
“Yes! The bookstore!” Scarlett exclaimed, pointing with one blood-red-nailed finger. Her chest heaved distractingly, framed by perfectly-coiffed blonde curls. “None of the bimbos would go in there!”
She took Lucy’s hand and ran.
“But how...” Scarlett puffed. She and Lucy would definitely take up running if they all survived with brains intact. “...are we getting...in? It’s...locked!”
As if in answer, they skidded into the alley behind Raconteur New & Used Books. In one swift movement, Jerome hauled up a full garbage can and slammed it against the back door, effortlessly bursting the weathered wood wide open with a bang and scattering refuse across the floor.
“Ew,” Scarlett wrinkled her nose, “garbage.”
Lucy went that tea-stain color again, despite the flush from the run.
“No smell!” She exclaimed.
Even the half-alpha Jerome realized the implications.
It never smelled bad in porn. Just like how nobody uses condoms or uses the bathroom to take a shit, nothing really stinks in porn.
But garbage? Garbage was supposed to stink.
They looked down as they skirted past the puddle of garbage in the back office. It was dim, but they could make out soiled paperbacks, the porno of another age, ripped-cover editions of their own On-Demand print anthologies...and the shattered belly of a bottle of Doll.
“Stay safe, girlies.” Jerome rumbled, spreading his hands. They were so big now, wrapped around her. They couldn’t have wrapped around Lucy’s waist when the evening began, and yet, here we are. “Don’t touch nuthin’. I’ll keep you safe.”
By that point, Scarlett had already tiptoed to the middle door, the one giving onto the bookstore proper.
“Thanks.” She sneered. Jerome met her sneer. God dammit, they both looked sexy.
And Lucy had to admit she didn’t...mind...this new, powerful Jerome guiding her around. The Black male predator and the tiny China doll. The ultimate extremes of white, Western, WEIRD racial fetishism. Oh God, that’d be so hot. It’d sell like fucking hotcakes. And she might have to shlick to it herself when she was done...
Lucy shook her head. What was she thinking?!
She glanced down. Her girls were still...well, girly. Not busting out of her bra. Always the first symptom. Always. She breathed a sigh of relief.
“There ya go, Lucy.” Jerome ...placed her, near the door, away from the trash puddle. He left off with a pat on her tight rear end.
Lucy bit off a giggle so hard she drew blood in her cheek. That helped. That cleared her head.
“Jerome?” She whimpered. But on purpose. “Sweetie? Barricade the fuckin’ door.”
Jerome nodded.
“On it.”
While he was dropping bookshelves of rare books behind the counter, Lucy joined Scarlett out in the travel section.
Her brow was furrowed. It was ...half-sexy. Lucy could almost predict what she’d say next.
“I...edited these.” She breathed. She pointed. “I remember that spine. France, right?”
“Andorra.” Lucy corrected, as gentle as possible. She helpfully continued: “It’s a little tiny country between Spain and France, run by both Spain and France. According to you, great food, snooty people.”
Scarlett took a deep breath. She ground her jaw together between those perfect blonde curls, her eyes welling.
“I used to know that...” She whispered, biting her lip. Then she took a single, unsexy sniff, and turned to Lucy, a fragile smile on her face. “Are the girls pretty there?”
Lucy smiled back to her, her heart breaking.
“The prettiest.”
Scarlett sucked a hard breath through her teeth.
“I bet their pussies are so tight...” She eyed her crotch contemplatively. In the shadows, it threatened both of them in ways they didn’t want to like. Or lick. “...and the boys...”
Lucy’s face flushed. For a moment, she almost dove for it, ready to throw every hole on it, rip off her unsexy clothes, and just submit to the blind pleasure of being Scarlett’s little Asian cocksleeve for the rest of her existence. It departed in a flash, but left a wet spot in her panties and a serious case of nerves behind.
“I...” She sputtered. “I-I-I gotta run upstairs!”
The weathered wooden banister felt smooth and hard as a cock in her hand.
Lucy crouched upstairs, in between two low, shadowed bookcases. God fuck but she was horny. It was all scary as shit, but that was also paradoxically turning her on? Her brain swelled with fantasies of Jerome’s big Black cock, Scarlett’s brand new, unused fuckstick...both, filling her virgin ass and her tight wet cunt...
A finger slipped down her panties, two knuckles disappearing into her trim black snatch.
A crossover. Yeah. Fuchsia futa and a big Black shifter alpha and oh fuck a tiny helpless little Chinese cunt who needs to be owned, taken, possessed...totally unable to do anything except succumb to the pleasure her two new cocks, her two Masters, subjected her to...
Her trim, French nail toyed with her clit now. Sweat beaded on her brow.
She needed to do research. Yeah. What was a filthy porn slut if she wasn’t constantly getting fucked? In newer, hotter, more depraved ways? She could kneel before their cocks. Pledge herself to them, to their pleasure. Be their fucktoy. Tell everyone about it after like a proud little Asian whore. Get money showered on her for fucking. Maybe Jerome and Scarlett would whore her out. Oh God...
“Me love you long time.” She whispered.
She came in her horror, an unsexy frog sound emerging from her throat. The pleasure reverberated across her, and she slumped over into the other bookshelf and onto the floor. She twitched, leaking into her pants and onto the carpet, her whimpers and the rustle of limbs against books deafening in the darkened upstairs.
Lucy took a long time to come back to herself, but when she did, her head was clear.
It was affecting her, too.
No red-blooded Chinese-American girl would be caught dead saying “me love you long time.” She loathed that phrase. Everything white boys projected onto her instead of seeing a person, wrapped up in a single line. She had no interest in the kind of nonconsensual, facefucking objectification that had just flashed through her head. Not in real life.
At least, she didn’t used to.
She felt one of her tits. It strained against her bra. She willed herself not to squeeze and caress any farther.
They were definitely bigger.
“Oh fuck...” She breathed breathily.
She stumbled downstairs on rubber legs, her nether-lips sliding against each other. She’d forgotten her pants upstairs, puddled over translations of classical Chinese porn and Lonely Planet guidebooks to the best fucks in Bangcock. Her little needy cunt still cried out for white or Black cock to fill it and make her complete.
Forever.