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17 Şubat 2024, 17:43
Zumeryand was a world of decadent luxury, which made our pleasure cruise to the capital city of Zumervale a rare joy. We?d spent months, perhaps even years, following the trail of my father. Beginning with the dirigible the natives called a ?Beholder? in the alternate Medieval World?which Kayla nicknamed Ariel?s Ego Trip?we followed the alternate realities, spiraling outward from that world-line, into other, tangential alternate worlds.We fought large reptiles in the tropics, found diplomatic peace between warring nations in an industrialized world of bizarre, advanced technology, and blazed trails through worlds both alien and fantastic, eventually picking up his trail. A cast-off, damaged part of his Contraption here, some carved words on a cave wall there, proved that he had trod upon the same soil. Our family crest, a wolf with large, green eyes beneath an oak tree, emblazoned and immortalized on uniforms, sometimes as a sacred symbol of this or that city, nation, or tribe, gave us hope that we were drawing ever nearer.Zumeryand was, hopefully, our final destination. None of that mattered during that welcome moment of leisurely pleasure. The tongue in my ass, the multiple men surrounding me, stroking their cocks to the sight of my nude body, and the nude women fingering themselves as they rubbed the men?s cum into my flesh were infinitely more important.Our airship, a multi-decked Carrack, languidly floated a few hundred feet above the landscape. The symbol of Zumeryand, the Summerland family crest, was stitched onto the huge, balloon-like envelope, steam-powered hot air both keeping us aloft and driving the large propellers on the aft poop deck. If our family's heraldry on the myriad blimps that populated the sky wasn?t evidence enough, their designs were based upon my father?s. Likewise, the multiple murals, statues, and other likenesses of the benevolent ruler, Laird Zumeryand, were of my father.The young man paying attention to my ass plunged his tongue deep into my sphincter, snaking it around and sending shivers through my body.?I need somebody to fuck me,? I screamed. Multiple guests, also on the pleasure cruise to the Capitol, volunteered.?You,? I said to one of the men jacking himself over me, ?fuck my mouth. I want to feel you cum down my throat.?Hot, sticky spurts of semen showered my back, followed by the luxurious sensation of feminine hands rubbing it into my skin. I didn?t care if my father was here or not; we needed this diversion.?Where in blazes did you find green Phlebotinum? How do you ballast to keep this level? Who are the blood shirts? Go get me another Smothered Parrot, and I?ll let you lick my pussy.? Kayla Jenkins was in rare form, in her ?speed mode,? chattering in her typical, Church Bell manner. Her exuberance and excitement over this world had her mad as hops.I moaned as a large, thick cock entered my dripping pussy. The man belonging to that pleasure appendage was svelte, handsome, and knew how to fuck. I raised Sex hikayeleri (http://hikayemiz.net/) onto all fours, giving him better access, which allowed my other suitor, Hans long-tongue, to penetrate my asshole even deeper. My passionate cries were muffled as one of the staff thrust his cock into my eager mouth and pumped in and out, furiously.He only lasted a few strokes, and, then, a geyser of jizz erupted into my mouth. A few drops dribbled down my chin as he gasped in release, making my female attendants rush to lick it off my face. That set off an intense orgasm within me, causing the man inside my cunt to shoot deeply into my womb. It was a chain reaction of sexual overload, and I loved it.?Did you see the mural?? Kayla asked me, interrupting, a sly smile on her lips.?Fuck that. Did you see Hans? tongue? Show her that wonderful fuck-toy you keep in your sauce box, Hans.? He removed his talented tongue from my ass and flapped it at my friend.??This is important, Ariel. I think your father may be here. Come see.??I?ve already cum, three times. Alright, I?ll go.?I disentangled myself from the bevy of sexual suitors and followed her to the forecastle. Along the way, I admired the picturesque view beneath us. Rolling hills, serene fields, and quaint, dainty, chalet-style cottages dotted the landscape. It was a bird?s eye view of the perfect realm, made into a miniature diorama from our height. As if its creator had taken the best facets of our home world and mixed them into a mélange of perfection, this realm was far too scenic to not appreciate.The locals were also quite attractive; the women were the jammiest bits of jam, nothing but sexy, wanton women that were as sexually liberal as Kayla and me. The men were handsome, lean, and muscular, always gentlemanly and eager to lavish pleasures of the flesh onto any willing partner.?So, what?s so important about a painting on the sky-blimp?? I asked, a bit miffed that my sexual escapades were interrupted.?Mural, Ariel. It?s a mural. Just look for yourself.?I looked. Fuck.Painted on the front face of the ornate, central forecastle was a depiction of my father, an impressionist?s version of Kayla beside him, and, off to one side, was a depiction of me brandishing my favored parasol in one hand and my trusty cavalry saber in the other.?At least the artist got my umbrella correct,? I mused.?Look at the signature!? She pointed, briskly, her raven hair flopping about as her head turned.?Xavier Summerland, dad! Doesn?t that just bang up to the elephant???Yes,? she exclaimed, ?perfect. That?s just too perfect. I think we?ve finally found Professor Summerland.??Don?t you mean Zumeryand??A gentle hand touched my shoulder from behind. I turned.?Your clothes, Ariel, cleaned, mended, and neatly pressed,? the lovely, statuesque blond said with a smile. I accepted my clothes and tipped her, as is the custom in this world, with a hot, passionate kiss.By the time I was dressed, much to the chagrin of my suitors, Sikiş hikayeleri (http://hikayemiz.net/) Kayla was leaning over the bow, her behind looking scrumptious in her new attire. A few worlds ago, she traded in her polonaise for a rugged skirt that hung straight over her body. Made of a thick, but soft, blue material that resembled canvas, they called it ?den-man? or something. Regardless of what the material was named, her ass looked appetizing and inviting beneath it.I sidled up behind her, wrapped my arms around her waist, and felt those firm buttocks pressing against my newly-clothed body.?Look,? she pointed, leaning over the bow, her posture almost mimicking the pose of the figurehead. ?Is that your father?s contraption way over there??I looked, scanning the horizon with my hand shielding my eyes from the warm, summer sun. Off in the distance, barely a reflected glimmer of the sun, a bulbous, metallic object, too far away to discern any details, rested atop a stone pillar.?It?s too far away. I can?t make out any details. How can make you that assumption from this distance???I helped build the Contraption II; I recognize the profile. See how it slants oddly on the right side???All I can see is the blinding glare of the sunlight reflecting off of it.?Wordless, we stared as the airship neared the Capitol. One of the servers brought more absinthe, and we clinked our glasses together as my father?s wrecked and mangled Contraption came into detailed focus.?We found him!? I cheered.?No,? Kayla interjected. ?We found his machine. Of course, the odds of him being here, unless he built another one, are approximately,? she paused and squished up her face in her pensive, calculating expression, ?eighty-two-point-zero-three-one-four-nine percent, or so.??We found him!? I repeated. My sexy, intellectual lover just shook her head.We waited along with the rest of the passengers as the anchors were lowered. They clanked and clanged downward, airship men on the ground coupling them to docking pillars. Most of the steam in the balloon-like mass that kept us airborne was diverted. The hot air and steam vented out with a dramatic ?whisshhh? and gurgling, as some clicking, ratcheting cranks beneath the decks wound up the anchor chains, pulling us slowly back down to earth.Disembarking, it didn?t take long for us to find our way to the main square; a broad, paved road led from the bustling cultural center to the castle. Arm in arm, Chuckaboo cavorting by our side, we ignored the stares of the locals and trod towards the castle.?Kayla, people are staring at us.??Of course they are. We seem to be mythical figures, here, ingrained into their lore.??Did you just call me an ignorant whore???Ingrained, lore. It seems this world, like your ego trip, was ready-made for your father to swoop on in and be heralded as their Lord King Protector, or weren?t you paying attention???I was. Mostly, I was trying to figure out what they were saying with their strange speech.??Good Erotik hikaye (http://hikayemiz.net/) thing you have me around. Zumeryandian is very close to our native tongue, except there?s no ?S? sound, only a ?Z?. Furthermore, like some other languages, they add a hard sound, an elongated ?Z?, in front of some words that begin with a vowel. Otherwise, it?s mostly our language with an odd, Germanic accent.??Whatever,? I replied, showing my lack of interest. ?It sounds to me like they?re all half-rats.??Sure, a drunken slur works just as well.??Let?s get back to us being gods, here.??Mythical figures, Ariel. A god is immortal; we?re legendary. They?re all enthralled. My guess is that your dear old dad added us to the mythos he created.??Huh???Worlds of possibility, Ariel. In all infinity, there has to be at least one possible universe where your father is the benevolent king, and we are legendary persons of some sort or another.?We arrived at the castle. The crenelated, hewn stone walls reached more than twenty feet high, the thin spires of the inner towers stretching far beyond, seeming to touch the clouds. The portcullis was down, armed soldiers in livery guarding it. They wore no armor but had gruff expressions.?Look at that,? I pointed to a large, ornate carving on the castle wall, my face alight. ?Upon this rock, I make my stand, beneath this tree I celebrate; in this ground, I shall lie.? It?s some of Vogon Summerland?s, poetry, my grandfather.?I know,? Kayla exclaimed. ?I love his work.??I never liked Vogon?s poetry, myself. All that church bell prattling on about life, the universe, and everything.?Kayla began to say something, but one of the guards interrupted.?How is it that you know the sacred tongue of kings?? he said in a stern, commanding voice. ?Where did you learn that language?? His accent annoyed me.?In grammar school, you Mutton Shunter, Meater,? I countered.My defiant posturing seemingly irked him, putting us on an even keel. The guard lowered his barbed spear and pointed it at me, threateningly. ?State your business.??We?re here to see Xavier Summerland,? Kayla said, giving me a stern look. It was her, ?stay quiet before you start another fight,? scolding gaze. ?She?s his daughter, and I am his lab assistant.??You know the true name of the king?? He dropped his spear. The guard captain turned to one of his men. ?Alert King Zumeryand.?We waited, not speaking to the surly guards. Chuckaboo harangued the guards, following them, mocking their movements, then running away as soon as they?d turn.?Leave them be, Chuck. They?re not enemies, yet.?After what seemed like hours, we heard some commotion from the interior. When I saw the king, my heart stopped. It was my father, and he hadn?t aged a day since I saw him so long ago. Kayla and I exchanged elated, confused glances and rose to our feet.?Ariel! Kayla! I thought you both were long dead!? For the second time in my life, I saw my father cry. The only other time was my mother?s untimely death. ?Open the gate, you fools,? he snapped.The reunion was filled with both tears and joy. From his point of view, my father had been stranded in Zumeryand for almost two centuries. He was stunned to discover that he?d been gone for a tiny fraction of that time.