Primeval fic: Tu Eres Muy Sexy
Title: Tu Eres Muy Sexy
Author: SCWLC
Disclaimer: I don't own anything in this, and I doubt people would pay good money for it, either.
Summary: Helen captures Stephen, then Connor rescues him.
Rating: NC-17
Notes: In response to the badfic bingo challenge, I have tried to do the bottom row of the table. I don't know how well I succeeded, particularly with "your, you're, you are," and the OOC, but there you are. Also, the crossover's with this South American soap opera I used to tune into at two in the morning on weekends. It's a show called Latin Lover about people making a show called Latin Lover, and it was poorly acted and poorly dubbed and had some of the most baffling dialogue I have ever heard. "Shrimp make me horny!" "Really? They make me sleepy (yaaawn)." I watched it for the laughs. So . . . Helen's the 'Shrimp make me horny' lady. Just because. So, tentacles, "your, you're, you are,", random nonenglish words, crossover and OOC. Yep.
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Stephen stared. There was nothing else to do. He was trapped, held in place by the vines Helen had grown and given some sort of bizarre partial intelligence. What was more disturbing was the way that they were clearly trying to molest him.
"Yes, he is lovely, Florecito," she murmered to the plant. "Mi bello, Stephen."
It was as though crossing into the anomaly had dropped him into bizarro land. "What do you want Helen. And why are you talking to the plant in Spanish?" he asked afterwards, if only because he'd like an explanation for it if possible.
Helen looked at him, "Your face just looks more stunning when you're in shock - oh, yes you are," she corrected before he could ask what that meant. She shot a look at the giant pot where the plant rested. "Munequita? You know what to do." More vines crept forward, one sliding into his trousers and blatantly wrapping around his cock, the other, dripping with some secretion made its way behind him.
"Te necesito," Helen murmured, leaning forward and kissing him. She was still brilliant at it, and he couldn't help his response, which the vine around his cock seemed to cheerfully take advantage of. It was quite good at it, too.
Trying to distract himself from the secreting vine, which was doing something to his arse that felt far better than it ought, Stephen gasped, "You still haven't explained why you're speaking Spanish, Helen."
"Oh, that," she waved carelessly. "I spent a bit of time in South America. Tried to have a bit of a fling with a lovely gentleman down there." She reached over to one of those ridiculous supermarket platters of display food for parties, taking a single shrimp off the tray and sliding it bewteen her lips. She grinned around it at him, then sharply bit it off. It was timed perfectly, as two vines he hadn't even noticed in his shirt slid over his nipples, the one in his arse hit his prostate and the one around his cock slid and squeezed and Stephen shuddered because it was all so wrong and felt so good.
"As I told him at that dinner, shrimp do make me horny." She leaned in and kissed him again, and with that, Stephen was lost. More vines crawled up his body, and he bucked and writhed as Helen produced a knife, shearing off his clothes, leaving him naked and at the mercy of molesting vines. His world descended to a greenish haze of sensation, but also of mounting desperation. Because, as he managed to gather enough fortitude to look down, a smallish vine had wrapped itself around the base of his cock, tight and horrible. He could feel he was at the precipice, no longer caring what he looked like or if he was following Helen's plans, just bucking his hips, thrusting back to get that brush over his prostate and forward into the grip of the vines.
But he couldn't come. Not with the damned thing acting like a cock ring on him, and then he couldn't think at all anymore.
Stephen was brought out of his delerium as the plant faltered a moment. Amazingly, Connor had come bursting in, carrying a machete and sending the plant scurrying out of his way and the shrimp platter flying. The sight of Helen and Connor, wrestling for the small sword on the floor did nothing for his addled mind but make him wonder if she was going to fuck Connor and make him watch.
Helen was a fighter, and she shouted to the plant, "Chiquita, this one too!" It moved in, but Connor, it seemed, knew plant fu. He was diving and flipping about like an action hero, driving it off with the machete. Then with a single graceful move, he slammed a foot into Helen, who went flying into a wall, smacking her head and knocking her out, and plunged the weapon into the pot.
Stephen was freed, but so far gone, all he could do as the vine playing cock ring loosened was come, and come hard. He'd never orgasmed that hard in his life. Connor was at his side a moment later. "You okay, Stephen?"
He couldn't keep from saying it. "Best sex I've ever had."
Return to Primeval archive
Author: SCWLC
Disclaimer: I don't own anything in this, and I doubt people would pay good money for it, either.
Summary: Helen captures Stephen, then Connor rescues him.
Rating: NC-17
Notes: In response to the badfic bingo challenge, I have tried to do the bottom row of the table. I don't know how well I succeeded, particularly with "your, you're, you are," and the OOC, but there you are. Also, the crossover's with this South American soap opera I used to tune into at two in the morning on weekends. It's a show called Latin Lover about people making a show called Latin Lover, and it was poorly acted and poorly dubbed and had some of the most baffling dialogue I have ever heard. "Shrimp make me horny!" "Really? They make me sleepy (yaaawn)." I watched it for the laughs. So . . . Helen's the 'Shrimp make me horny' lady. Just because. So, tentacles, "your, you're, you are,", random nonenglish words, crossover and OOC. Yep.
****************************
Stephen stared. There was nothing else to do. He was trapped, held in place by the vines Helen had grown and given some sort of bizarre partial intelligence. What was more disturbing was the way that they were clearly trying to molest him.
"Yes, he is lovely, Florecito," she murmered to the plant. "Mi bello, Stephen."
It was as though crossing into the anomaly had dropped him into bizarro land. "What do you want Helen. And why are you talking to the plant in Spanish?" he asked afterwards, if only because he'd like an explanation for it if possible.
Helen looked at him, "Your face just looks more stunning when you're in shock - oh, yes you are," she corrected before he could ask what that meant. She shot a look at the giant pot where the plant rested. "Munequita? You know what to do." More vines crept forward, one sliding into his trousers and blatantly wrapping around his cock, the other, dripping with some secretion made its way behind him.
"Te necesito," Helen murmured, leaning forward and kissing him. She was still brilliant at it, and he couldn't help his response, which the vine around his cock seemed to cheerfully take advantage of. It was quite good at it, too.
Trying to distract himself from the secreting vine, which was doing something to his arse that felt far better than it ought, Stephen gasped, "You still haven't explained why you're speaking Spanish, Helen."
"Oh, that," she waved carelessly. "I spent a bit of time in South America. Tried to have a bit of a fling with a lovely gentleman down there." She reached over to one of those ridiculous supermarket platters of display food for parties, taking a single shrimp off the tray and sliding it bewteen her lips. She grinned around it at him, then sharply bit it off. It was timed perfectly, as two vines he hadn't even noticed in his shirt slid over his nipples, the one in his arse hit his prostate and the one around his cock slid and squeezed and Stephen shuddered because it was all so wrong and felt so good.
"As I told him at that dinner, shrimp do make me horny." She leaned in and kissed him again, and with that, Stephen was lost. More vines crawled up his body, and he bucked and writhed as Helen produced a knife, shearing off his clothes, leaving him naked and at the mercy of molesting vines. His world descended to a greenish haze of sensation, but also of mounting desperation. Because, as he managed to gather enough fortitude to look down, a smallish vine had wrapped itself around the base of his cock, tight and horrible. He could feel he was at the precipice, no longer caring what he looked like or if he was following Helen's plans, just bucking his hips, thrusting back to get that brush over his prostate and forward into the grip of the vines.
But he couldn't come. Not with the damned thing acting like a cock ring on him, and then he couldn't think at all anymore.
Stephen was brought out of his delerium as the plant faltered a moment. Amazingly, Connor had come bursting in, carrying a machete and sending the plant scurrying out of his way and the shrimp platter flying. The sight of Helen and Connor, wrestling for the small sword on the floor did nothing for his addled mind but make him wonder if she was going to fuck Connor and make him watch.
Helen was a fighter, and she shouted to the plant, "Chiquita, this one too!" It moved in, but Connor, it seemed, knew plant fu. He was diving and flipping about like an action hero, driving it off with the machete. Then with a single graceful move, he slammed a foot into Helen, who went flying into a wall, smacking her head and knocking her out, and plunged the weapon into the pot.
Stephen was freed, but so far gone, all he could do as the vine playing cock ring loosened was come, and come hard. He'd never orgasmed that hard in his life. Connor was at his side a moment later. "You okay, Stephen?"
He couldn't keep from saying it. "Best sex I've ever had."
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