Cupid gone weird, p.1
Cupid Gone Weird, page 1
Cupid Gone Weird (Holiday Business 3)
Stephanie Burke
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Copyright ©2023 Stephanie Burke
BIN: 06196-01990
Second Edition
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Changeling Press LLC
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Editor: Katriena Knights
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller
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Table of Contents
Cupid Gone Weird (Holiday Business 3)
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Stephanie Burke
Cupid Gone Weird (Holiday Business 3)
Stephanie Burke
Cupid only wants a little revenge on Chris Cringle, master of North Pole Industries and the bane of the Holidays’ existence. When he cracks open a bottle of stolen wassail, will one spilled drop give him everything he ever desired, or will it be a tool for Chris to gain more control over the wayward Cupid? No one can really tell what will happen when Cupid Goes Weird.
Chapter One
“Fuck Chris and his holiday wassail.” Cupid, otherwise known as Valentine, sneered down into the cup he held.
Usually Guy Fawkes was with him, but the timid Holiday had balked at breaking into Chris’s stash of holiday cheer, nearly fainting at the idea of doing something so rebellious. So now Valentine was left alone with a bottle. There was nothing worse than a depressed deity of love -- drunk off his ass.
But he was Valentine -- a rebel! Yeah, he was topical and exciting and dangerous. There was nothing stopping him from getting a little revenge on fucking Santa Claus. Even as small as this act of thievery and drunkenness was, it filled him with the energy of defiance.
Who the fuck cared if he was watching? With his little geisha ninja and their pack of pinstriped hyenas, Chris Cringle had become the bane of Valentine’s existence. He would love to see the man deposed and kicked out of North Pole Industries, but no one possessed enough power to do that. The other Holidays’ base of worshipers dwindled more and more every year as Chris’s power base seemed to have exploded.
Even Eve -- All Hallows’ Eve -- was finding it difficult to keep her power base intact and this year… This year Chris’s friggin’ Norman Rockwell image of the jolly old elf was even being sold during her time. This was the first time this had happened, and it had shaken up the Holidays more than anyone cared to admit. And Chris, that rat-bastard, was lording it over them like he was king of the fucking land.
Valentine took another swig of his stolen holiday wine and contemplated his bedroom. He was surrounded by the images that in the past had garnered him some powerful followers. There was the baby-faced image of him in a cloth diaper that he’d created to counter the Jolly Saint Nicholas crap, and for a time it had worked. He was cute, and school-aged children had made paper cutouts of him to give to their crushes. As time passed and society grew more desensitized, his image had gone from a chubby toddler to the more mature look that had romance writers making up stories about his prowess in bed and men lifting weights after the holidays to gain the ideal look Valentine had created.
Yeah, for a time, being big, blond, and buff was a major thing. It had dominated the eighties totally, and it still lingered in the minds of fashion-conscious folks to this day. But not now, for today he had seen something that had driven him into the bottle so fast that if Dionysus had still been hanging around he would have been embarrassed by his slowness to get to the good stuff. It was after New Year’s, and already Valentine was ready for the year to be over because he had seen a poster of Santa, dressed as Cupid, declaring it was Christmas in February.
Oh -- fuck -- no!
There was no hope for it. Chris was taking over the holidays, and there was nothing anyone could do about it.
Valentine looked down into his glass of red wassail and gave his goblet a swirl. It was empty, and life sucked. He reached for the bottle, tipped it to fill his glass once more, and cursed as some of the rich, red liquid splashed to the floor. “Fuck.”
He stared at the small pool of liquid, as bright as freshly spilled blood, then blinked as it began to ripple.
Could a few drops ripple? Maybe he was drunker than he’d thought. Chris sure had some potent shit --
But the drops began to swirl as an unseen wind whipped through the room. The red puddle began to expand and take on a solid form. Cupid leaned forward, getting closer to the now three-foot-tall pillar, because he could not believe what his eyes were telling him.
He lurched back, nearly falling from his chair as a perfectly formed set of red lips emerged and pressed against his mouth to steal a quick kiss. A light giggle, sounding of tinkling bells, filled the air, and he slipped from his chair to fall flat on his ass as the pillar took the shape of a beautifully formed, buxom female.
As he watched, the red began to fade into a rose-tinted gold. The creature threw back her hair, and the flung drops of spiced wine grew into a long mane of flowing hair.
“Are you my master?” Her voice was light and sweet, tinged with a bit of mischief and dark lust.
“Master?”
“My master -- the one true owner of my soul?” She rose to her tiny little feet, her naked, golden body shimmering with an inner light as she spun around to stare at the room she found herself in.
Her ass was heart shaped.
Valentine arched an eyebrow at that -- maybe it was a sign she was to be his -- and rose to his feet to introduce himself. He felt his wing-slits tingle and his kilt lift in arousal. Suddenly drinking up Chris’s private stock was no longer important.
“I am Cupid, but that is my title. My name is Valentine.”
“Valentine,” she repeated. “Are you my master?”
“I am whatever you want me to be.”
“I am all for my master,” she said softly, her eyelids drooping low as she tossed her hair over her shoulder. “My heart, my body, my soul.”
And suddenly Valentine’s addled mind came up with a perfect plan for revenge.
Obviously Chris had created this woman, this sexual goddess, to belong to him and cater to his twisted needs, but she had never laid eyes on the man. In fact, it seemed whoever partook of this particular vintage of wine got ownership rights to the beautiful… beautiful --
“What is your name?”
“I do not know.” Her eyes widened, and Cupid felt a delicious frisson of heat travel through his body. She was so needy and alone, vulnerable and innocent looking… “My master is to name me. Will you name me?”
Smirking, Cupid reclaimed his seat and spread his legs, pointing to the tent his rapidly swelling cock had made. “If you earn it.”
The woman licked her lips as she looked from his crotch to his eyes, her red ones glistening in sudden lust. “I was designed to satisfy the needs of my master, each and every one of them.” She stepped closer and dropped to her knees, licking her lips as her gaze shifted to his lap again. “I hunger for your cock.”
He groaned as she lifted his kilt out of the way. Her fingers were cool and soft as she gently pressed her hands to his balls. “Damn,” he moaned as her fingers danced over his sensitive sac, caressing its fullness and making his balls churn. “You do that so well.”
“I am here to please you,” she murmured as she trailed her fingers up to the base of his shaft. She softly combed through the neat thatch of pubic hair before gripping him tightly. “I am for you.”
Rising on her knees, she pulled his hard length straight to her mouth. She surrounded the head of his cock almost delicately, her tongue circling the glans and licking away the flowing precum.
“What did I do to deserve this?” He groaned, dropping his head back onto the headrest, his fingers burying themselves in her soft, flowing hair.
“Mmm.” Her answer was muffled by his cock, the vibrations of her moan shaking him to the core.
“Fuck.” He hissed, his hips jerking up and forcing his dick farther down her throat. She looked up at him, her bright red eyes glowing, and Valentine felt himself lose more of his control.
He gripped the back of her hair and began to really fuck her throat. Her hands gripped his thighs, her mewls becoming distressed as her nails dug i
In retaliation, he tightened his grip on her soft hair and jerked until her eyes flew up to his and spit ran down the side of her mouth. She was beginning to look desperate, her face flushed with more than arousal -- there was a taint of delicious fear in her now, and it made his dick harder.
And then there were her tears, her delicious, sweet tears.
Chapter Two
Valentine pulled her head back and let his cock slide out of her mouth before he slammed it back in, fucking her mouth, gasping out loud as she choked and gagged, the tight caress of her slick throat making him tingle all the way down to his toes.
“You like that?” he rasped, his voice hoarse with his growing arousal. “You like that, don’t you? Having a man’s dick down your teasing throat…”
She looked up at him and nodded around his cock, her hands loosening their grip on his thigh as she began to give in to his wants.
“That’s right, baby,” he cooed. “You are just a slut for a big old sloppy dick.” He stared down at her red lips stretched wide around his cock --”Fuck!” -- and had to grip and tug his balls down to keep from going over. Her glistening wet lips, so reminiscent of the lips of her pussy…
He pulled back with a jerk, the wet, slurping sound his dick made popping out music to his ears, and jerked her head backwards until her eyes met his. “You are mine?”
“Yours,” she choked out, the tears overflowing her eyes making her look all the more innocent.
“My cute little slut,” he purred as he rose to his feet, his kilt tenting out in front before he released her to tear it away.
She dropped back, her pert little ass resting on her bare feet as she stared up at him.
“I’m going to fuck you hard,” he informed her and watched as she licked her lips slowly. He reached for her, jerking her slight weight up, and slammed her onto the table. Her mouth dropped open at the maneuver, but she spread her legs widely, pressing her feet flat to the table, and waggled her hips, inviting him in. Her pussy was slick and wet, red and swollen with her arousal.
“Such a pretty shade of pink,” he praised, reaching out to run a curious finger over her labia. She jerked at his caress, her thighs trembling as her slick arousal leaked steadily from her.
He ran his fingers over her clit, watching as the pale white button grew even harder, pushing out of its protective cowl. “Oh, yeah,” he breathed. “I can’t wait to get into that pussy.”
“Please,” she moaned, dropping back to her elbows and letting her head hang.
“Slut,” he growled, and in a swift move, slapped her clit, watching as a small scream erupted from her throat before an even larger moan followed. So he slapped her again, watching as her hands looped under her knees to pull her legs wide. She drew her knees to her chest, offering her pussy up for more.
Grinning, he hovered over her and slapped at her clit while his mouth dropped down to those massive tits of hers. She began to sound off as he sucked one hard nipple into his mouth, nipping at it with his teeth then sucking hard, laving her with his tongue.
“Keep them spread,” he ordered as her warm legs started to wrap around his body. That was nice, but it wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted her spread and eager for him, her pussy wet and open.
He switched nipples, giving the second the same treatment as the first, kneading the soft flesh of her breasts. Her whole body was trembling when he slid down her and buried his face in her pussy.
“Valentine!” she screamed, as he zeroed in on her clit, lapping at it slowly just to feel her fight to force her body to hold still and take the pleasure he was giving her.
Her legs dropped to his shoulders, and he was fine with that as he used his hands to cup her ass and lift her to his mouth while he sucked softly on her clit. He squeezed the softness of her ass as he supped, as he drank her down, nipping at her flesh as he spread her juices all over his face, loving the slick feel and the spicy taste of her. She smelled like cinnamon and cloves.
He pulled back to watch her tug at her own rigid nipples, her head lolling to the side, her mouth open and panting.
“Fucking slut,” he cooed and laughed as she winced, lolling helplessly up at him.
“Please?”
“Oh, no, bitch.” He chuckled darkly. “You are mine, right? Then your job is to please me. You will lay there and take it until I am done with you.”
At his harsh words, her eyes lit with an inner fire, and the hunger he could see in there grew. She was such a little slut. He slapped her clit again, just to make her scream; to see the fear come back and mingle with the want in those heated red eyes. It made him hard enough to fuck a hole through concrete.
“Spread them,” he ordered, pressing her legs farther apart, actually amazed she could keep them so wide for him. It was a show of flexibility and strength like he had never seen, but it appealed to him on such a base level. She was his; his to abuse, his to punish, his to take, and she had surrendered her body to him on a level he had never experienced before.
It was as delicious as it was powerful. “That’s my little bitch.”
He moved in again, this time bending to sample one more taste of her delicious pussy before concentrating on her ass. He spread her plump cheeks and stared at the tiny, virginal, pink hole that winked back at him. He smirked nastily as her breasts trembled with her heavier breathing.
“I think I am going to fuck this little hole,” he murmured mostly to himself, but loud enough for her to hear. “I am going to fuck that hot little pussy of yours and then I’m going to take this tight little hole.” He smiled at her as tears once again filled her eyes. “Hold it open for me.”
He felt a surge of strength and dominance fill him as she slowly obeyed, easing off her tortured nipples to grip the cheeks of her ass, spreading herself open for him.
“Very good,” he praised, reaching out to run a gentle finger over her pink, puckered flesh. “So very pretty.”
She moaned, her huge eyes staring up at him -- vulnerable eyes -- which made his next action all the more delicious.
He lowered his head and, before she could move, closed his teeth around her left cheek.
She squealed in pain, but he kept biting, sucking at her flesh, until he knew he had marked her. He pulled back and stared down at the one bite mark, at the perfect indentations of his teeth reddening on her pale flesh, and he laughed.
“I can do fucking anything I want to you, and there is nothing you can do or say because you are mine.”
Tears rolled down from her huge eyes, but she licked her lips and arched her body, offering her ass for more of his bites. She was so into this.
He lowered his head and gave her more, leaving her left cheek riddled with bite marks and red bruises until he pulled back and delivered a stinging slap to her ass. He watched as her flesh quivered, as she let out small shouts of mingled pain and pleasure, as her body begged for more.
He ended his assault on her flesh and began instead to caress her ass, to soothe the red skin even as her pussy wept in rapture, her slick moisture running down to coat her tiny little pucker.
“This is going to be good,” he declared, tapping at the tiny mouth with a finger. Then, with a smirk in her direction, he slid his finger in deep.
She moaned and writhed beneath him, her hands digging into her own skin as she spread herself wider, begging for more.
“Please,” she whimpered, throwing her head back and exposing her neck in submission.
In response, he began to finger-fuck her slowly, one hand going to the base of his cock, squeezing it to stave off his own explosion as he felt the heat of her body. Her ass was like the softest, sweetest silk he had ever felt. The muscles gripped him firmly, yet there was little resistance.
Either she had done this before -- a lot -- and knowing Chris it was entirely possible -- or she really was a gift perfectly created with him and his wants in mind.
As he slowly ran his finger in and out of her hole, he noted that she self-lubricated, making the need for prep minimal. She was like some type of hot, thick liquid, conforming to his every move and giving way against a greater force. He loved the fuck out of it. In fact, he was beginning to fall in love a little -- maybe… at least with her body. “You like that, don’t you?” he demanded. “You want to be stuffed full at both ends, don’t you?”
