The idea for this story came from two
different thoughts. One was when reading
a woman's complaint that a certain shirt gets her "eye-fucked" so
much that she needs birth control. It
left me wondering what would happen if a man actually
COULD eye-fuck women. The other thought
involved my making fun of a certain media franchise set at a wizard
school. Once I had the title, “Merlin's
Magic Wang”, the story practically wrote itself.
The following excerpt provides a
representative sample of Merlin's Magic Wang
4: Fuck the News, Literally
It was now pretty much settled that the ring
did precisely what the old man said it would.
Whether or not Merlin was its actual creator, it certainly was
magical. Putting morals aside, I no
longer had to worry about finding a sex partner again. No woman would be out of my reach, unless I
decided she was. But morally? Well, there are many words for men who fuck
women without their consent, and none of them are nice.
I laid down on my bed and pondered things for
a while. I was a 23 year old guy, alone
in a dorm room. My mind kept going back
to what I'd just done, and I feel guilty about it. But going down that path always managed to
bring back memories of how it felt, and I got aroused, and then I started feeling
guilty again because I was aroused. I
wanted to use the ring again, right now, but I was trying not to.
In an effort to take my mind off of the
unlimited sexual opportunity sitting right over there, I turned on the TV to
watch the news.
At first, the news provided the soothing
distraction of politics and local intrigues.
That is, until Brianna the weather girl came on. She was in her mid-20s, with a spectacularly
well-defined rack and a blue dress with a plunging neckline which showed just
the right amount of cleavage. I've
always been a sucker for her look, too: mid-length blonde hair, sky-blue eyes,
and kissable lips. Before I knew it, I'd
unzipped my fly and had begun stroking myself while looking at her.
I was determined to just take the edge off at
first, but as I hardened, my thoughts were drawn inevitably to the ring. At first it was just a little thought, then
it became a serious question, and finally it became an all-consuming
compulsion. I whimpered a little as,
with my hands trembling, I found my hand reaching for the ring. I held it in my hand for a few seconds, my
eyes going first to it and then to her, and back. I fought the ring's temptation for what felt
like hours, but in the end the ring won in just seconds. My hand lowered towards my dick, positioning
the ring right above it.
Brianna was halfway through the weekly
forecast when she gasped in mid-sentence as I slowly, experimentally thrust
myself into her. She caught herself and
resumed talking, although her face wore a puzzled expression. I could almost hear her thinking, “Make it
through the segment, make it through the segment” as I started stroking myself
into her rhythmically. To her credit,
she managed to maintain her composure and chug through the forecast, although
she sounded more and more distracted as I went on. I could see sweat beginning to bead up on her forehead as she neared the end and I just
kept going inside her, sliding the ring up and down my shaft. I was getting close when her segment ended
and cut to a brief on-site piece.
Seconds later, I could feel my cock being caressed by her leg muscles as
she walked somewhere, then sat down. I
wasn't sure what was going on until the scene on the TV changed, putting
Brianna back on screen. She was at a
desk with the news anchors, with her hands braced in front of her on the desk
and an expression which betrayed just a little bit of panic. Seeing her face again was all that it took to
bring me to a climax; I thrust hard and pounded away inside of her, watching as
her face reddened and she clutched at the desk with both hands, gasping
“Are you all right?” the female co-anchor
asked Brianna. I felt bad for a moment
as the weather girl answered, “Oh, I'm fine.
It was just a leg cramp.”
The anchors moved back to their banter, which
neither Brianna nor I paid attention to.
Brianna's face showed wide-eyed disbelief as my cock erupted in a
volcano of cum, spraying inside the weather girl's pussy in the fulfillment of
our shared biological imperative.
Brianna's eyes widened suddenly, and I saw her hand go to her midriff as
my sperm saturated her vagina. Just to
be civil, I left the ring on so that the pent-up cum wouldn't distract her by
flowing out while she was still on the air.
Besides, I was still ejaculating once in a while, another pulse of my
sperm flowing into her pussy. I managed
to focus my attention on the news again just as their segment ended, and I
turned off the TV. I looked down at my wang, which presently looked like just a stump with the
ring on top.
When I'd fucked the girl in the parking lot,
the center of the ring had been black.
This time, the center showed a mildly unnerving pulsating green
glow. I gave one last thrust with the
ring, coaxing just one more pulse of sperm out of my member before pulling it
out. The instant it was clear of my wang, the ring's center faded away and it became just a
hollow wooden disc again.
I lay back in my bed, still panting from my
exertions and trying to decide what to do.
The right thing to do, of course, would have been to discontinue the
ring's use and dispose of it. Well
actually, now that I think of it, there'd be nothing wrong with using it on my
wife or eventually girlfriend, with her consent. Well, now that I think of it, in the name of
science I needed to figure out how this item worked... and actually...
Actually, the line of reasoning went on for
hours in my head, and the internal debate raged all day long as I unpacked and
settled in, then ate and went to bed.
The debate ended around 3am when I started getting unbelievably horny,
my testicles started to hurt, and I couldn't get the ring out of my head. I tried to masturbate, but I couldn't climax
no matter how hard I tried. I toughed it
out for fifteen minutes before defeatedly turning on the
TV and slipping the ring onto my dick. A
few minutes later, somewhere on the other side of the country, a model from one
of those 1-900 hotline ads screeched in surprise as her pussy was first invaded
by an invisible cock, then flooded with cum.
I drifted off to an uneasy sleep,
consisting of nightmares full of accusing stares and of my family finding out
what I was up to.