“Thank you, Madame Pearloiner,” said Lila. “Zilka and Cheyenne will fix your hair and dress you for the Sherry Cobbler and Farewell Handjob Festival. As a first step, we must forgive.”
The two lovely almost-naked women washed and blow-dried the Pearloiner’s hair and dressed her in a white shirt and a flattering navy-blue linen jacket. They left her naked down below.
“Now, Madame, you know what you must do,” said Lila. She put the clitorises in the Pearloiner’s open palms. “Cup their pussies and reinstate their joys. Only you can give back what you took away.”
The Pearloiner cupped the women’s crotches and jiggled her hands rapidly, saying, “By the power and the authority of the federal Transportation Security Administration, Eastern Region, HQ, I hereby give you back your clits and humbly ask your forgiveness for being so greedy to possess them.”
“Oh, ooochie,” moaned Zilka, feeling her tender stem re-connecting. Moments after, Cheyenne’s clitoris went live. Her face cleared, and she beamed. “Finally!” she said.
“Now down on the pussyrug, you two,” said Lila. “You must fix the repairs in place by gently grinding your gorgeous twats against each other.”
Zilka and Cheyenne scissored themselves together and humped and ground, clit to blissfully reanimated clit.
“Sealing it with a crimson pussy kiss,” said the Pearloiner, visibly moved.
Lila opened a drawer and pulled out a large smooth wooden dildo, which she handed to the Pearloiner. “Madame, put this handmade Dendro wherever you would like it to go,” she said.
The Pearloiner threw her strong tanned legs open and steered the dildo deep into her fur. She shook her head. “It’s good, but it’s not what I need,” she said. “I need live dick.”
Lila pondered, then smiled. “Zilka, Cheyenne, take Madame P. to the pussywall and strap her so that her pussy and fanny are exposed for all to see. The last batch of Deprivos are arriving. They’ll take care of her hungry twitchet.”
“Oh!” said the Pearloiner, feeling ripples of arousal.
Shandee Goes to the Festival
Shandee got up late and wasn’t sure what to do with herself. She walked through the Cockstorm Room blindfolded and held about seventy stiff and semi-stiff cocks. Then she washed her hands and sat for a while in a darkroom talking to a nice couple who ran a vegetarian restaurant. She went outside and had a sherry cobbler at the Sherry Cobbler and Farewell Festival. It was a fine end-of-summer day; the Garden of the Wholesome Delightful Fuckers was crowded with celebrants, and many brightly painted pedal-powered Masturboats were out on the White Lake. Luna and Chuck churned by, circling each other. There were screams and splashes from the pussysurfers.
As Shandee came closer to the dock and the tent, she heard Lila’s loudspeakered voice announcing the handjob cumshot contest. She paused to watch a little of the proceedings. The contestants stood on a raised dais dressed in crotchless tuxedos, their arms tied at the wrists behind their backs, while Lila, pacing with her cordless microphone and her wild hair, urged on the strokers, who knelt in position beside or behind the cocks they stroked. Women who wanted to be jizz-splashed stood in the shallows of the lake wearing waders with blue butterflies painted on them, holding their mouths open, making beckoning gestures. “Okay, we’re in the final ejaculatory launch window,” Lila was saying to the cheering audience. “Our contestants must shoot hot sauce within the next ninety seconds. Lift your tops and show them your titties, my friends, floof out your hair, stick out your tongues, and let’s get some nice moneyshots out of these bad beautiful cocks and these gorgeous sexy hardworking cockstrokers. Because, boy, are they at it! That’s it, my lovely strokers, jack the big dicks off, work them, bring that cream to market, don’t hold back, jack them harder, that’s it, Trix, honey, jack Pendle off, come on, Jessica, closer, closer, really fast now, that’s it, wank those hunky spunk pipes!” There were male groans of amplified pleasure. “And here goes Pendle first, oooh, lovingly stroked by the delightful Trix — well climaxed, you two, and let’s hear it for the Heftyshot bathing suit that’s down around Pendle’s ankles!” Applause, followed by another moan and more airborne come-drops flying through the air. “And now our Kathy’s got Ned launching — there it goes! And Hax, oh, my goodness, three big squirting jizz bombs from Hax, our tattoo master, smoothly cockstroked by Jessica — thank you, Hax and Jessica, with your beautiful smiles! And now comes Wade and Crackers, what a team — look at her fist fly on that eye-popping pink dick — ah, out it tosses!” More applause and cheering, and several women who’d been splashed jumped up and down flashing peace signs. Then there was a trumpeting noise. “And, oh dear, there goes Friggley, our pornmonster. Yeek, I don’t even know what that was, pumped off by Rhumpa, the Pearloiner, Donna, and Polly, all together. Very good effort, women — not at all disgusting. Let’s hear it for these resourceful jerkoff artists!” Lila turned and held a hand out. “And now — ah! — a tremendous sideways splash of semen from handsome Ruzty’s banana dick. Has he, yes, he’s taken the lead with a long arching slider. Ruzty’s ahead now. But now, last but never least, here’s Marcela, our dazzling heavy-dicked ladyboy, stroked by Dune. She’s new to having a penis, and it’s a biggie, and she has obviously taken to it in a major way. But she’s almost out of time. Will she get there? Will she shoot? She’s working her hips, she’s almost — now”—suddenly an enormous “Graaaawh!” was ripped from Marcela’s throat—“blowing a — whoa, shit! — a glorious spunkbomb of Elmer’s goo from that prodigious transplasmic dick of hers! My gravy! Stroked by Dune, like the master cockjerking bad boy you are, Dune. Mwah, blow you both a kiss. An absolutely amazing cumshot by Marcela and Dune!” Zilka gave Lila a piece of paper with some numbers on it. “And the official results are in: I declare Marcela and Dune the winners of the Sherry Cobbler Handjob and Massive Cumshot Contest. But all you jizzblasters deserve a prize.” More cheering, whistles.
Shandee applauded briefly and turned back toward her hotel. Sad about Ruzty, she thought. Maybe if she’d been stroking him he would have won. She got in bed and turned on a house-fix-up show and watched a man repair a screen door. She got Dave’s arm out and fed him and changed his liquid wastes, and they lay together and looked at the ceiling fan. Dave’s arm tweaked her nipple solicitously. She reached a moment of decision. “Come on, honey, let’s go,” she said.
Dave Gets His Old Cock Back
Shandee went to Dave’s room, number 434, and knocked. There was no answer. “Probably out carousing,” she said to Dave’s arm. “Would you feel comfortable writing him a note?” Dave’s hand took her pen and wrote this:
Hey Dave, I’m not feeling too good. Shandee has been taking care of me and showing me some of her kind and loving ways, but I miss being attached to you and doing all the fun things we could do together. I want back on. Shandee will be in her room, 676, tonight after seven. Do not miss this opportunity. Signed, Your Arm.
Shandee folded the note and held Dave’s arm as he slipped it under the door. They went back and took a nap together. At 7:15 there was a knock on the door.
Shandee straightened her skirt and checked her lipstick before she answered.
“Hi, I’m Dave,” said Dave.
“Oh, hi, Dave,” said Shandee, as nonchalantly as she could. “I’ve got your arm for you. I found it in a quarry.” She kissed Dave’s arm softly on the knuckles and handed him over, and as she did she took a slow second to look Dave up and down. He was wearing a soft nubbly greeny-gray shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and he needed a haircut. She saw his stump, which ended smoothly and tastefully just below his elbow, and she felt tender stirrings in her nethers.