a Short Story
Copyright © February, 2001, Kellis
“In the history of the world, how many people have crapped off a cliff?”
With a laugh Colin asked the question aloud. His sightseeing stroll had brought him to the top just as a serious urge developed in his bowels. The path approached within six feet of the edge. A species of vine that loved salt air grew on the face and top of this cliff, with thick tendrils and a profusion of dark green leaves, fluttering and twisting in the strong onshore breeze, dangling over the verge all the way down to the beach perhaps 30 yards below. He looked around. Wind-warped bushes, some with wide leaves, grew inland of the path, shielding it from casual view, and no ship was visible on the seaward horizon.
“Let’s add one to that secret total,” he continued, stripping a handful of wide leaves from a bush. Picking his steps carefully, he moved to the very edge and looked down upon sand and surf. In the absence of any nearby hotel or other recreational facility he was not surprised to find the beach deserted. The vines descended the vertical cliff fully, presumably anchored in the soft sandstone wall. He nodded, understanding that the presence of the vines likely accounted for the endurance of this crumbly precipice despite wind and wave. He chuckled. “I may even do the vines some good.”
Facing inland, he lowered his britches below his knees and squatted. Bending to look past his testicles, he decided that he needed more clearance. Feeling with his heels, he moved one boot back a hand’s width, then the other. Now he could —
Vines accustomed to securing sandstone against the forces of wind and wave applied horizontally may be less successful against half a man’s weight applied vertically. The rock crumbled beneath Colin’s left heel. Because one hand was holding his britches away from potential defilement while the other clutched half a dozen loose leaves, he was too slow to grab the vines underfoot on either side. And as every board diver knows, the way to execute fast flips is to pull the knees into the chest as if squatting.
Colin was upside down and falling before he realized what had happened. His hands immediately flew wide, discarding the useless loose leaves. Fortunately his belt caught in a vine root before he had fallen his own length, bringing him to an abrupt halt because of the cloth enwrapping his boots. For a moment he stared at the upside down horizon. “Good god!” he exclaimed, taking a death grip on the vines dangling beside him.
Just as hope glimmered in his breast, however, the root that supported him, rotten because of its exposure, gave way. The vines in his hands ripped loose. Down he went amidst the crashing of torn vines, initially headfirst. One handful of vines snagged, slowing his fall. He held on long enough to spin both vertically and horizontally so that his head became uppermost, his back again towards the cliff, before his hand slipped and the fall resumed.
To his horrified eyes the sand came rushing up — until with a great jerk the back of his shirts caught on something, possibly another root. The garments, outer and undershirt, flew over his head, snapping his hands together above him. His still-clothed calves and feet, trailing the vines attached to the broken root, plunged into another nest of vines just as the unrent shirt terminated his fall.
When his dazed mind could at last apprehend the circumstances, he found himself hanging barely off the wind-cleared sand at the foot of the cliff, both hands bound securely in the shirtsleeves above his head, both calves and feet wrapped tightly in britches legs, all entangled impossibly in vines. But from elbows to knees he was stark naked.
He took stock. The skin smarted on palms and fingers, but they were well out of sight above him. Presumably if they were much abraded, blood would eventually run down his arms. His shoulders were sore and his back reported twinges along with both knees. But otherwise he appeared to have survived a nearly 90 foot drop down the face of a cliff, thanks mainly it seemed to the strength of his shirt material.
“Good god!” he murmured, now in a rather different tone. “Who will ever believe this?”
He set about freeing himself. Each of his four imprisoned extremities would move a short distance, though not in any manner that promised to release them. He turned and twisted, applied force this way and that in every combination conceivable, whipping his arms and legs back and forth, up and down with all his strength until his breath came in great gasps. All he seemed to accomplish was to tighten the vines’ grip.
Finally he desisted and simply hung in his vines. The breeze fluttered in his ears and cooled his sweaty torso. “Help!” he called. Drawing more breath, he screamed it at the top of his lungs. Across a hundred yards of sand the surf thudded in mockery. In the face of the relentless sea breeze his voice was less raucous than the gulls circling above.
Suddenly he was cold. The gulls! Their beaks routinely speared fish. What would they do to his soft parts, testicles, eyes, when they discovered his helplessness? And the crabs, if he should still be here at nightfall?
The flies alone could ruin him, he knew, and the blood they freed would attract gulls and crabs. Currently the onshore breeze was keeping them away, but at sundown it would die. Surely, surely someone would come along before then!
* * * *
“Mister, what in the world are you doing?”
He had thought he heard girlish voices, but dismissed them as vagaries of the wind. Now his eyes flew open. The sun had risen but little higher. Two big girls stood on the sand before him, staring up wide-eyed. Each wore a shirt much too large, probably a man’s, tails dangling past her knees. They were pretty, the same size and build, though one was blonde while the other was brunette. They were both well tanned. He guessed their age at twelve, the curious age in girls, as he recalled from his childhood. The shirts were open in front. Both girls were wearing bikini bathing suits. Both were barefooted, coated with sand below the knees. They had been wading. Each held a handful of sand dollars as trophies.
“See, Melly, I told you he wasn’t dead,” the blonde observed with satisfaction.
The brunette craned her head. “Then what’s he doing?” This was the voice he had heard first.
Colin breathed a great sigh of relief. “God, I’m glad to see you girls!”
Apparently the blonde expected some such declaration. Her voice rose triumphantly. “I told you! He’s a ferpert. Let’s get out of here!”
She grabbed the brunette and pulled her back a step. But the brunette resisted, shaking her hand off. “Wait a minute, Tess! Something is wrong with him.”
“Yeah! He’s a ferpert! He’ll jump down on you and —”
But the brunette Melly wasn’t listening. She stood directly before him and asked seriously, “Mister, are you a ferpert?”
“I … What’s a ferpert?”
“A man who does nasty things to kids.”
“Oh. A ferpert! No, Melly, I’m not a ferpert.”
Melly cocked her head. “Is that the wrong word?”
He almost smiled. “Perhaps you mean pervert. I’m not one of those either. I don’t hurt kids.”
Melly sneered at the blonde. “Ferpert!” But her head snapped back to Colin. “Then why are you letting it hang out like that?” Her gaze dropped, as if her meaning might be otherwise ambiguous.
“I’m sorry, honey. I’d turn my back if I could. You shouldn’t be looking at it.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Why don’t you just let go and straighten up your clothes?”
He sighed. “Because I can’t.”
“You mean …” She took a step back, craning her neck to look up at his arms disappearing into shirtsleeves and the tangle of vines.
The blonde Tess stepped close again, drawing her own conclusion. “Who tied you up like that?”
“Nobody,” he admitted. “I guess I caused it myself.”
Melly concluded, “You’re all tangled in the vines, aren’t you? How did it happen?”
He shook his head. “I don’t expect you to believe it, but in fact I fell down the cliff.”
Both girls stared. Melly leaned far back, peering at the greenery far above. “Yeah, I see where you tore out some vines.” Her wide-eyed gaze returned to his. Suddenly she emitted a single bark of laughter. “You were pooping off the edge, weren’t you!”
He turned his face away, gritting his teeth.
Tess giggled and pointed out unnecessarily, “He’s blushing!”
The brunette commented with a touch of awe, “I didn’t know people blushed all the way down their fronts.” She took a resolute breath. “Let’s see if we can get him out of there.”
They started at his feet, trying to spread the vines enough to untwist the cloth of his britches. But the tangle was woven too closely. The only difference they made was to cause coins to fall from one pants pocket and his wallet from another.
“Ouch!” cried blonde Tess, holding up a finger. “I broke my fingernail. We’ll never get him loose without something to cut these vines with.”
With a sigh Melly straightened, too. “We’ll have to get help, mister, ah … What’s your name?”
He opened his mouth to reply, but Tess was rifling the wallet. “He’s Colin J. Walker, and he’s 26 years old.”
“Let me see.”
Tess surrendered the wallet, except for the paper money that she had removed and was counting.
Melly studied the driving license. “Are you married, Mr. Walker?”
“To a girl in Richmond?”
“No. That’s my old address.”
“It must be. You look younger in this picture.”
“$345 dollars!” Tess breathed, staring up at the man’s face. “Are you rich, Mr. Walker?”
“No. But I’ll give you half if you’ll go get somebody to cut me out of here.”
“Half of it?” She smiled at him in calculation.
Melly held out her hand. “Give me the money.”
“Huh! You heard him. Half of it’s mine!”
“Give it to me!”
“What will you do with it?”
“Put it back in the wallet where it belongs.”
“Oh.” She surrendered the money without further argument. She watched as Melly returned it to the wallet and stuffed the wallet back into the pants pocket.
Tess’s eyes rose. His midsection hung at her eye level. Her gaze was almost intense enough to feel. He twisted his hips defensively. Suddenly her hand came up and lifted the withdrawn head of the penis lightly in her extended fingers. With a gasp he jerked himself away, but she immediately caught it again, this time more firmly.
“Don’t do that, honey,” he complained, pulling away again, but now she would not be dislodged.
Melly, trying at least to unravel his belt from the tangle, looked up. “What’re you doing, Tess?”
The blonde’s voice betrayed fascination. “Remember what you said about your brothers?”
“What about them?” The brunette stood up also.
“When they played with each other.” Tess had a good grip on the skin behind the pink glans. Slowly she moved it back and forth. “Isn’t this what they did?”
“Theirs were bigger than this one.”
“Look! It’s growing.”
Colin drew a breath. “I can’t believe this! What are you girls doing? You know girls can’t fool with a man like this!”
The blonde’s eyes glittered. “Even when he can’t stop them?”
“You, you —” he stuttered. “Cut it out! Right now! You should be ashamed of yourselves.”
But the blonde only smiled confidently. Her other hand lifted his testicles.
The brunette’s eyes twinkled up at his. “We’ll be ashamed if we get caught, just like you for pooping over the cliff.”
“But, but —” He almost demanded to know what might prevent him from informing on them. But suddenly he feared that a good reason might occur also to them, which prompted the question, “Aren’t you going to get help?”
“Oh, we’ll go in a minute.”
The blonde added, “What’s your rush?”
“Like this,” advised Melly, guiding the other’s hand so that remnants of circumcised foreskin were rolled partly over the glans. “That’s the way they do it, only faster.”
Colin stared down at the intent faces, his eyes popping in disbelief. “You’ve actually seen boys do that?”
“My brothers,” admitted the brunette, not looking up. After a moment, she added, “Wow, it is growing!”
“I can’t believe brothers would show this to a sister.”
Melly flicked him a grin. “I spied on them. You know what’s going to happen, don’t you, Tess?”
“You said it spits.” The girl’s hand was moving swiftly but jerkily. “Wow, how big does it get?”
“I don’t know!” breathed Melly. “It’s already bigger than my brothers’.”
The man groaned. “You bad girls! You’re about to make me come.”
“Faster!” urged Melly.
Colin had visited his aging parents after departing his fiancée. He had been without relief for almost a week. Involuntarily grunting and thrusting his hips forward, he expelled squirt after squirt of pent-up seed. Despite her claimed experience Melly was standing directly before him so that the strong first spurt laced the center of her face from hairline to neck before she could duck aside.
“Oh, my god!” Colin cried, panting. Tess ceased to pump as the spurts became a dribble. Laughing, she raised her hand to point at the brunette. Her laughter choked off when she noticed the slime dripping from her fingers. Melly gathered a shirt tail to her face, wiping away Colin’s trace, but not before her tongue probed the coating on her lips.
“Yuck!” exclaimed Tess, wiping the soiled hand on her own shirt. But her attention was on the other girl. “You tasted it!”
Melly shrugged. “So what?”
“What … what does it taste like?”
The brunette sniffed. “There’s some!”
Indeed the tip of the glans dripped with the residue. Tess’s fingers gingerly gripped the shaft well behind it. “You mean …”
“I dare you. And it doesn’t count if you put it on your finger first.”
Tess took a breath. Suddenly she raised her face and licked the tip once, smacking her lips over the result. She stared at Melly. “I don’t taste anything!”
“Right,” the other agreed, adding matter-of-factly, “Now you know all about it.”
“Not quite,” Tess argued, holding the turgid organ higher. “It’s a lot bigger than it started. Where does all the extra meat come from?”
Melly chuckled. “That’s a good question. Where does the meat come from, Mr. Walker?”
He sighed. “You girls! God, I can’t believe you!”
“Don’t you know?”
“Yes, I know. It’s not meat, it’s blood.”
“Blood!” cried both girls in harmony.
“In what they call ‘erectile tissue.’ The penis is full of it. You have some, too, in your nipples. Don’t they feel harder when they get cold?”
“Oh, yeah!” breathed Tess.
“And one other place,” suggested Melly thoughtfully.
“I really can’t believe this,” Colin announced, shaking his head.
“What’s that?” asked Tessy.
“To fall down a cliff and get jacked off by two little girls in aid of their sex education.”
Both girls laughed gently. “Well, I did learn something!” noted Tess. She looked at Melly. “Okay, let’s go get it.”
“Get what?” he asked.
Melly smiled lazily at him. “Wouldn’t you rather no one else heard about you trying to poop off a cliff?”
Colin had to chuckle. “You know it! But the main thing I’d rather is to get out of here. Unfortunately you girls can’t free me by yourselves.”
“Yes, we can,” said Melly. “Tess’s dog got tangled in there last month. We know how to get you out.”
“You … you do?”
“Yeah. Tess’s dad has a set of loppers that can cut right through these vines. Why don’t you run and get them, Tess?”
“Me? How about you running with me?”
“Look there.” Melly pointed to the man’s armpit.
“At what? You mean those two flies?”
“I mean the flies. Your dog was covered in them, and he had fur!” Melly slipped out of her shirt and swung the garment at the man’s body. “You can bring the loppers. They’re not so heavy. I’ll stay here and keep the flies off him.”
“I guess you’re right,” Tess admitted grudgingly. She turned away to pace up the beach.
Melly watched for a minute before turning back to the man. “That’ll take her a while.”
He studied her suspiciously, temporarily unappreciative of her slender budding beauty. The bikini top was almost flat on her chest, but the bottom accentuated the pudendal bulge and well-rounded hips. Full buttocks thrust backwards below a narrow waist.
He noted, “You have something in mind, don’t you?”
She smiled demurely. “I didn’t tell Tess everything about my brothers.”
“You … left something out?”
“Yeah. My part!”
He watched her step out of the bikini bottoms. As expected, she was yet unfledged. “You did more than spy on them, did you?” He stared at her. “You jacked them off!”
She licked her lips. “I did a lot more than spy! For example, when their things got soft, I did this.”
“Good god!” he declared in additional disbelief as, stretching upward, she slurped his rapidly softening organ into her mouth. She threw her arms behind his hips and pulled herself higher.
“I can’t believe you sucked your brothers!” he murmured. Shortly, watching her expertly bobbing head, he added, “But I guess I have to believe it!”
After a bit she backed off enough to raise her head and grin up at him hugely. “There! Does that work on all you guys?”
“I think so,” he admitted. “What else did you do with your brothers?”
“I let them fuck me.”
“You did? One after the other?”
“And all together, too.”
“How many brothers do you have?”
“Three older and one younger. He’s next.” She had selected a strong vine hanging from the tangle above. Gripping it where the leaf stalks protruded, she simply walked up his body, lifting her torso hand-over-hand on the vine. After a few hand changes she was high enough to clamp her knees on his hips and her arms around his neck, releasing the vine. From inches away she grinned into his face. “That’s how I’ll get high enough to cut your hands loose with the loppers.”
“Hey, you’re really good!”
Her face was suddenly serious. “Kiss me like a woman, please, Mr. Walker.”
But her face was advancing, lips puckered, eyes closed. He kissed her, admitting her tongue when it probed his lips. He felt her hand between them, grasping his painful erection. She sagged lower, working her hips side to side, and admitted him with little difficulty. Sighing, she laid her head on his neck. The spicy odor of her hair filled his nostrils. Compressing and releasing him with her legs, she began to raise and lower her body upon him. “I wanted to feel a man,” she explained.
He asked quietly, “Is mine truly larger than all your brothers’?”
“No. It’s about the same as the oldest’s. But Tess doesn’t know I’ve ever been with him.”
“Melly, you know you’re too young for this!”
She chuckled. “Well, it’s too late to talk me out of it.”
She moaned as her body stiffened. Shuddering, she clasped him tighter and resumed the bounce. After her third climax, which nearly fetched his accompaniment, she simply sagged loosely upon him, making him believe she would soon get down. Experimentally he began to twist his hips, somewhat in the manner that women had done for him in the past. It revived her and finally his second orgasm occurred in time with her fourth.
When her breathing had recovered to normal, she kissed him once more and slid down his body. Sitting on the sand, she put two fingers into herself and held them up glistening. “I thought you did!”
“I did,” he agreed, adding with a sigh, “Now I’m a child molester.”
She sniffed. “You couldn’t help it. Wouldn’t it count as rape?”
“Yeah. Statutory rape.”
“Oh. You mean they would hang you anyway?”
She shook her head. “You adults sure make screwy rules, you know.”
“You think so? No one would believe this story, Melly. No one would believe you might do this to me. What are you, about twelve?”
She nodded. “I’ll be thirteen next week. My brothers would believe it.”
“I suppose so. Plan to tell them?”
Slowly she shook her head. “Not for a long time.”
“Well, put your bottom on before Tess gets back.”
She obeyed languidly. At last she smiled up at him contentedly. “You got to admit, it worked.”
“You don’t see any flies, do you?”
* * * *
When she had freed one of his hands, Melly let herself and the loppers drop to the sand in front of him. She stood up, reversed the tool and put one of its handles into his hand. “Brace the other handle against your arm,” she told him, “and you can finish the job.”
He slipped a cutting edge under the thickest vine around his still captive arm but looked around at the girls, now backing away. “I was hoping to walk you home,” he suggested.
“Oh, no,” Tess answered. “You might tell on us. Just drop the loppers in the sand. We’ll get them later.”
They continued to walk backward until they saw his other arm free. When he looked again, they were running up the beach, their shirts flapping behind them. Taking a breath, he attacked the vines holding his legs.
Fully freed at last, he removed the boots to shake out vegetable matter. Having made himself presentable, if no longer pristine, he marched up the beach, seeking a path back to the cliff top. He smiled wryly. The urge to defecate, though never relieved, was gone.
He shook his head. The smile became a laugh. “I’m surprised shitting off cliffs isn’t more popular!”
Stories Gratis at http://www.dhp.com/~kellis