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Menage of the Red Lantern update
🕑 Added 2021-03-08 00:00:02 +0000 UTCSkyclad, Zatanna knelt with crossed legs in the center of a pentagram, the only light the candles circled around her, the only feeling the breeze from the Watchtower’s air conditioning, keeping her at a comfortably balmy temperature despite her nudity. There was a reason Zatanna wore fishnet stockings besides them looking good. The key to magic, at least for her, was to separate the intuitive, free-thinking side of her from the restraint of logic and rationality that, while useful, would hamper her spellcasting. Part of that inhibition was represented in the taboo against normal, natural nudity. The worry of being considered lesser because she wore a revealing costume, or indeed nothing at all, was exactly the kind of neurosis she needed to surmount in order to do magic.
So, actively facing her trepidation about nudity to go naked, becoming comfortable with it, leaving that taboo far behind, Zatanna was better able than ever to meditate on the cosmos. And to consider how much her idiot ex John Constantine was missing out, because she could feel the room’s warm air all over her naked body and she knew every inch of it was perfection. Her soft, pillowy lips—her decadently rounded breasts—her trim waist with a taut hint of abs in her otherwise voluptuous body—then, finally, her plump hips and ass, sitting on top of the long, long legs she knew looked even better than Black Canary’s in her fishnets.
Wait… there… she could feel something, a spirit, an energy… some sort of being on the astral plane. Potent, but… desperate… such desperation… an anxious worry that drove her to offer help…
“Are you alright?” she asked, knowing her physical voice in the empty room was echoing onto the spirit world. “Do you need help?”
Help… yes… help… need…
For a moment, Zatanna’s sense of caution railed against this. There were a lot of entities in the astral plane, not all of them friendly, many of them not above posing as a friend, loved one, or simply a victim in need in order to get what they want. But, she assured herself, her wards would be able to handle any malevolent entity with little enough power to fly below her radar. She could sense no real strength in this being, and truly feverish desperation. And she was on the goddamn Watchtower, after all. If she was too suspicious to answer a cry for help, then she had no place on the Justice League.
“I’m here,” she called, both hearing the sound of her own voice and the reverberation it had metaphysically, deep and resonant. “Come to me… I’ll help you… oh!” Zatanna gasped, feeling a prickle of sensation rush her body.
Her comfortably warm body was now full of heat, feverish, a little overwhelming, but not unpleasant. Was it the presence of the entity doing this? Her nipples throbbed with hardness. Even her slit felt slick with sparks of liquid feeling. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to do these rituals naked…
“Calm down,” she urged the entity. “You’re… having an effect on me. You have to restrain yourself. I can’t have you… ooh!” She felt it like a physical touch, caressing the insides of her thighs, the curves of her prominent breasts. It felt nice. It felt really nice. While she was hot all over, most of her body was still warm enough to be comfortable, like she was getting a suntan. It was only in her privates that she felt these… flames. “Are you trying to… oh my God… you’re trying to turn me on!”
Help. Need. Yes.
“You can’t just—“ Zatanna gasped, no, mewled, feeling a flickering flame of touch against her mons, licking over her nipples. The sensations had progressed to full-on foreplay—really good foreplay—the kind she never would’ve gotten from Constantine—but still, it was wrong. She couldn’t just let some spirit feel her up… or even more. Its efforts were clearly intensifying, growing more bold, making her feel more and more. “You can’t just start fucking me out of nowhere! This is way out of line!”
Yes. Help you. Help you.
“I know you want to help me, but this… I didn’t ask for… God, this can’t feel so good… not when I don’t want you to…” Zatanna went cross-eyed, her plump lips gaping, then her thighs cording with toned muscle as she felt a slick touch between her legs, pressing into her, entering her, touching her at her core. “This is too much!”
Too much?
“Yes! It’s too much!”
Help you. Need.
“It’s too much!” Zatanna repeated, but now her voice had lost its note of protest, gained a breathy appreciation. It was still too much, but too much in the best possible way—too much of what she wanted, what she needed.
Too much was still not enough for her.
Yes.
“Who are you?” Zatanna moaned. If it were an entity she’d heard of, maybe she could gauge whether it was malevolent or as good as it felt—seemed. And if it was just a spirit that wanted to fuck, well, what was the harm? It wasn’t as if she’d be the first woman to take a supernatural lover. At the very least, it promised to satisfy her, which was more than she could say for some human guys…
Parallax.
Zatanna’s eyes shot open. She started to scream, but a pressure—a glowing yellow tentacle—stifled the sound. A whole swarm of them were now undulating in the room, surrounding her, pressing in on her, slithering over the exposed flesh of her naked body as though she’d fallen into a box of snakes. And yet, there was something unmistakably phallic about how they felt, how they moved, the musky smell permeating the air. They were like cocks! She was being groped, touched, fucked by hundreds and hundreds of cocks!
“This can’t be,” Zatanna whimpered with what little breath the tentacle around her throat let her have. “Parallax is an embodiment of fear. This isn’t…”
Fear that I’ll stop. Fear that I won’t help you. Help your need. Yes.
Zatanna opened her eyes again—they’d been closing with the feelings of lust and pleasure whirling inside her. Now she saw the tentacles more clearly… how they shucked back and forth in the air, acting out paroxysms of rutting as they waited to fuck her. She felt her pussy jerk with need. Just being surrounded by all these willing sources of pleasure almost brought her to orgasm.
“You’re all going to… going to fuck me?” she panted, her voice trembling with emotion.
One cock-hungry cunt we have here.
The voice seemed to whisper directly in her ear, sounding almost like Hal, who she’d always had a crush on—but she could imagine him speaking in that rough, demeaning way, dominating her, making this like a dream come to life… something out of her sickest, darkest fantasies, now really happening. She couldn’t resist any more than she could resist a dream.
More tentacles wrapped around her arms, her belly, hoisting her up. Others spun around her thighs and spread her legs. She suddenly felt a stab of penetration between her buttocks—a tentacle full of wet heat, turning and twisting at her anus to lubricate it, while pressuring the tight sphincter to let it into her bowels.
Want this sweet asshole. Fuck it any day of the week.
Despite the primitive attempts at lubrication, Zatanna was on the verge of crying out in pain, even if it meant using up the little oxygen her stranglehold allowed her. Then her mouth was filled by another thick tentacle, its head brimming with liquid flame, seething with a heat she could only think of as lustful. It didn’t just want to silence her. It wanted to fuck her face, penetrate her, occupy her, own her—dominate her so thoroughly she actually enjoyed it. She could imagine a leering smile on Hal Jordan’s face as the phallic intrusion pumped deep into her mouth.
“MMMFFFH!” Zatanna choked, her lips stretching painfully. Thankfully, the tentacle stopped thickening at a certain point, its girth only so wide past the head, but it still drove that fat length into her throat with one big thrust, demanding and getting possession of her gullet.
Zatanna gargled automatically, feeling her throat roiling around its penetration, clenching and tightening on the intruder she couldn’t expel, and the tentacle shook with gratification. All she could think was that, like it or not, she was sucking it. Like she was bred to be a cocksucker—meant to be this thing’s cock holster.
Take it, whore. Suck my cum right down to your belly.
With the leash-like tentacle around her throat holding her head still, the tentacle between her lips pumped several times into her mouth with obscene delight, her throat bulging, Zatanna gagging and sputtering, barely able to breathe. The tentacle around her throat thankfully relaxed its grip, allowing her nostrils to flare and bring her just enough breath to stay conscious, but it stayed a tight constriction around her neck, like a collar.
Then she felt another one wrap around her hair, pulling it, jerking her back so that her glistening cunt was thrust up into the air. Open. Exposed. Zatanna knew what was coming next and her mind reeled with protestations. No—not there—it seemed so much more intimate than her mouth or even her ass. It seemed to make her ravishment real.
“Zee? Are you alright? I thought I heard… something…”
Zatanna’s eyes widened. That was Jessica Cruz’s voice; she was right outside Zatanna’s door.
Obviously, before she’d begun her meditation, Zatanna had engaged the privacy lock, but if she could find some way to let Jessica know she was in trouble—Zatanna was torn between that and trying to warn Jessica to stay away. Even if Jessica could help her, Zatanna didn’t know if she wanted to be seen like this. The embarrassment of being seen in the middle of this gangbang would surely be worse than the pain—she could take that—so many of the sensations were good, in fact, even worth the strain.
Before she could make up her mind, force any thoughts through the haze of delirious, pained lust that these tentacles had her in, one of the tentacles reached for the control pad beside the door. It toggled the button to let Jessica in.
“No! Jessica! Get clear! It’s a trap!” Zatanna tried to say, but the tentacle throating her made a more than effective gag, only letting out the sound of its plunges into her gullet: “GGLK! GGLK! GGLK!”
The door slid open and the tentacles struck as one, dozens of them wrapping up Jessica’s arms, legs, going for her throat.
Thankfully, Jessica was well-trained and quick on the draw. “Lantern emergency! Distress! Distress!” she cried, her power ring flaring with the order before a tentacle slipped it off her finger. Without it, Jessica was powerless. Worse, she was naked, her curvy brown body spread-eagle from the tentacles pulling all four of her limbs taut.
The door slid shut behind her.
To Zatanna’s surprise, the tentacles didn’t start in on Jessica as they had her. They simply held her in the air, watching, not even gagged as she saw how Zatanna was being ravaged. In its sadism, Parallax got to both of them. Jessica was forced to watch her friend being brutalized, while Zatanna had to let Jessica see her enjoying it.
Another serpentine tentacle poised itself at her wet pussy, waiting for a few moments as if seeing how her womanhood writhed with lust, then it pressed its tip into her slit. Probing its way into her as had the tentacle at her backside. But she was much wetter here, much looser, and the tentacle jerked inside her with a steady motion, feeding its length into her until Zatanna felt it must surely be rubbing up against her womb. She wondered how there was room for her innards when it seemed like all she could feel was these two tentacles in her holes, when they seemed to fill her up absolutely. And then she felt a few more inches be crammed inside her pussy.
Can you take it all? Three big cocks at once?
Zatanna could only shake her head. No, she couldn’t, not without being split apart. One tentacle was fully inside her ass and another was halfway down her cunt and she knew she couldn’t take another fraction of an inch down her throat.
“Then let me have it!” Jessica said quickly, pulling forward against the tentacles holding her voluptuous body in place. A sensual jiggle ran through her curves with the force of the motion. She must’ve heard Parallax’s voice just as Zatanna had. “I want it! Fuck me!”
Zatanna shot a look at the Green Lantern, thinking what a fool she was. She didn’t know what it was like—she couldn’t. Three monstrous slabs of phallic meat filling every hole, it was horrible, irresistible.
Then Zatanna realized the truth. Jessica was trying to spare her. Shoulder the terrible burden Zatanna was being forced to bear. And Zatanna had assumed… had actually thought that Jessica wanted to be assaulted as she had been. It was insane. Unforgivable. She was so consumed with the pleasure these tentacles were inflicting on her that she was seeing everything in the obscene terms of fucking and being fucked.
Soon enough. Parallax’s voice was thick with lust. A tentacle slid between Jessica’s full breasts, another between the thick cushions of her buttocks, both burying themselves in the supple flesh. Jessica’s face screwed up with the combination of violation and pleasure, the first taste of what Zatanna had been feasting on for what felt like hours. First, see what you’ll look like when you give in. When you’re my whore as she is.
Another tentacle went to Zatanna’s breasts—it had a kind of mouth at the end, like the glans-hole on the phallus it so resembled, and it pushed into her left tit, smothering itself in the ample flesh of that hill, while that… mouth… sucked at her taut nipple. Zatanna gibbered, drool running down her chin. She could not pretend there was any pain going along with that feeling, nor any sense of being despoiled. She was simply enjoying it.
Her eyes rolled back in her head. She was enjoying it more and more. She loved being fucked.
“She doesn’t like it!” Jessica cried, and Zatanna thought that she was protesting too much on her behalf—Jessica wishing it were true instead of admitting what her eyes were telling her. “I will! Don’t fuck her, she hates it, I’ll love it!”
Zatanna could no longer think, wasn’t really objecting, only making noises of sensation as she was triple-teamed, further distorted by the ongoing rutting into her throat. “GGLRK! GGLRK! GGLRK!”
“Hurry and fuck her!” Jessica breathed, and now Zatanna could hear the heat in her voice, see the sweat glistening on her body. “God, if I don’t get some of those cocks inside me soon, I’m going to lose it!”
Jessica’s nipples were standing up on her heaving breasts, over her clenching abs. Her leg muscles corded as she tried to rub her thighs together, relieve some of the itch in her pussy, but the tentacles around her ankles held them fast. Oh God—she was turned on. She was actually getting off on this. She actually wanted to be fucked like Zatanna was getting fucked.
“Star Sapphire, Starfire, and Supergirl within range. Routing distress call now,” the ring enunciated from where it’d been dropped to the ground, but neither woman was listening to it now.
Comments
Shendude
Well, that was unexpected
