Windswept Geynelle (Patreon)

Windswept Geynelle
Written by HarmonyMotion
Commissioned by anonymous

Chapter 1

Geynelle sat at her computer, painstakingly drawing an animation, frame by frame, the latest in her long line of hobbies. In lurid detail, she sketched an artistic depiction of herself standing on the street, her summer dress billowing in a hurricane wind, animating the slow frame-by-frame rippling of her character’s fabric facing down a fierce torrential force of the elements. Every single flicker of her dress, the motion of her arms blocking her face, down to every last individual strand of hair… she left no detail untouched.

Saving multiple still frames now, she scrolled through the pictures that would comprise the animation. Three months of hard work… and the whole clip would last about three seconds. Three. Seconds. But it was among the most beautiful work she’d done before.

Her scalp tingled empathetically as she let the animation play on a loop. How she wished it were actually her in that beautifully crafted three second video! She could feel the violent phantom caress of that wind lapping against her calves, gushing up her skirt and stroking her thighs, while tugging at her tight ponytail and causing her to scream in simultaneous pain and ultimate pleasure…

Geynelle sighed and submitted her art onto the internet for her fans to see. She hoped it would be well received. Three months of near radio silence hard at work, all for a three second animated loop. Hardly seemed fair. But hopefully the quality of every last detail would come across.

Sliding back from her computer chair, she wistfully gave her long ponytail a tug, trying to manually reproduce the sensation she so fantasized about, but it just wasn’t the same. She’d stood in front of a mirror with a powerful fan on to blast her, trying to study the motion of every piece of clothing, her hair, her skin being violently flung by wind, but these piddling fans for home use were not up to the task.

Geynelle rubbed her eyes and stretched. The long duration of hard work hunched in front of a little drawing tablet and staring into a bright screen had left her muscles more twisted than she’d realized.

She craned her neck and rotated her shoulders as she walked through her small downtown apartment. Her bedroom was set up with high speed cameras that she had used to capture particularly gusty days outside, recording trees and leaves and passerbys surreptitiously, like a voyeur.

Every single inch of the wall of her bedroom was lined with art of all types, whether it be hanging wall scrolls, paintings, sketches, sculptures, what have you. Even pulling the clothes off of the hangers in her closet revealed ancient black magic rituals detailing the power of elements.

Geynelle made her way out of her busy bedroom. The open floor space of the rest of her apartment was cluttered with different art stations. A large, tilted desk with a bright desk lamp for sketches—she was drawing a comic about a young black girl like herself, obsessed and infatuated with wind-blown objects. Beside that, lots of sculpting clay for her to try her hand at, trying to carve out detailed lines of hair being stretched rigid by the breeze. Even a piano which she had picked up to dabble in, playing musical pieces dedicated to the ocean surf or fluttering snow. It was the only wind-adjacent subjects she’d found.

A enormous green screen with professional grade lighting sat in the corner. That was a fun acquisition.

She stopped and touched each station, feeling frustration that she could never experience what she’d dedicated so much of her life to. It’d gotten to the point where she wouldn’t leave the house unless it was a windy day. Her personal relationships, her career at an architectural firm, all suffered as she constantly missed appointments with her friends and deadlines at work.

It was an addiction.

She sighed as she ran her fingers over her little unpowered piano keyboard, the dull thud of the keys striking the keybed soundlessly. Geynelle sat down at her sofa and turned on her TV. She’d missed another appointment with a friend who probably wanted to stage an intervention. Well, whatever. It was a windless day anyway.

“This is an emergency broadcast! Some cyclone force winds have touched down in the rural countryside 100 miles west of Yorkmond. It’s been classified F5, the most destructive classification a tornado can get. These forces of nature can clock in around 400 miles per hour, virtually guaranteed to tear apart whatever it touches.

Meteorologists are tracking the movement of this tornado, and it appears to be heading toward the heart of our city. Police are coordinating evacuation efforts. Please, everyone remain calm, take only what you need, and evacuate the city. We are putting up detour signs to direct all civilians where to go.

This is not a drill. I repeat, this is not a drill. Please evacuate…”

Some footage of the tornado played on the TV. Geynelle watched in fascination as the tornado twisted, sundering ancient, thick tree trunks before sending them swirling in an inescapable funnel of destruction. Little human built shanties stood even less of a chance as they splintered apart and left the ground. Even the earth itself was pockmarked with widening holes as the powerful gust tore downward into it, turning rocks into deadly projectiles.

Geynelle’s heart was racing.

This was what she’d waited to experience all her life.

Chapter 2

“Wow, nice animation!”

“Is that all? For three months? I mean, it looks good, but three months…”

“Love it!”

Geynelle sprinted back to her computer to find her fans’ feedback awaiting her. Heart pounding in her chest, she hopped onto the windy chatrooms to announce the news.

“Did you guys see it on the news!? My county is being hit with an F5 tornado!” she typed.

Immediately, the other residents started chatting back.

“Whoa. F5 is serious. You need to get out of there!”

“I wish that were me
No but really be safe”

“Are you packing now? What are you going to do with all your stuff!?”

Geynelle’s obsession was infamous. She’d shared pictures of all the windy paraphernalia she’d collected over the years.

She had a stock photo of herself with her face mostly covered up in front of the green screen. The fans she’d bought for her attempted photoshoot were far too weak. Her dress was only barely fluttering, and her still-limp hair did not sell the illusion well enough. Still, she’d gotten a lot of fun out of it, placing wild background images behind herself.

Geynelle took footage of the hurricane out in the rural countryside of Yorkmond and placed it behind that stock photo. She uploaded it.

“Ha!”

“Nice one!”

“I wish that were me”

“Thanks everyone!” she typed. And then, more somberly, “I’m not going anywhere. I”m staying right where I am.” She hit the enter key with a finality that probably didn’t come across as dramatically as she’d envisioned. Still, she got the expected response.

“What!?”

“Uh, WindyQueen99, this is real life. You need to get out of there.”

“We care about you you need to run!”

“Do we need to stage an intervention…?”

“This is what I want.” Geynelle typed. “I’m too far gone, too obsessed with this stuff. I don’t get along with other people. All I want is to be windswept away. Thanks for all your support everyone. I don’t expect you to understand.”

And then she logged off.

“Shit, does anyone know where she lives!?”

“Well, she must be near Yorkmond. And they’re evacuating everyone already there. Hopefully the police will find her and force her away…”

The city had been fully evacuated. The stores had been raided, supplies and toiletries hoarded up. Canned food was no longer available anywhere. But all things considered, it was quite an orderly proceeding. All of the citizens of Yorkmond were now headed away to be with their families elsewhere, or checking into a shelter a thousand miles away.

But Geynelle had avoided detection. She alone remained in the city, holed up in her apartment, awaiting the fateful moment. Sitting with her legs up on the cloth cushion of her sofa, she nibbled at what remained of the pre-packaged food she’d managed to snag.

Fear gnawed at her, but she had passed the point of no return. The tornado was well on its path, predicted accurately by meteorologists, and the city streets were too disorderly with abandoned cars for her to make it out in time. But she thanked her helplessness. She didn’t want to buck and flee at the last moment due to her own cowardice.

Finishing off the last bite of her favorite chicken nuggets, Geynelle cleared her throat and stood up, dressed in a flowing silver dress. She fluffed out her dark, lustrous hair, feeling it glide against her soft, ebony skin. Geynelle took a deep breath, acknowledged solemnly that she was a slave to her sexual obsession with this phenomena of nature, and stepped outside.

She had to lean into her door so hard to shove it open! Hurling her entire svelte weight at it, she pushed with her arms as her long strands of hair began to flutter along with the hem of her short dress, rubbing against her groin as it tried to pull her backwards. Geynelle luxuriated in the gentle sensation, but she wanted so much more. Even if it meant walking toward her impending doom.

She growled with exertion as she redoubled her efforts, throwing her left shoulder into it. The door opened halfway, whereupon the wind suddenly caught hold of it, switching from resistance to assistance. Geynelle whooped triumphantly as she fought her way outward toward those ferocious, hundreds of miles per hour swirling gusts.

With her arms shielding her face, she took one arduous step forward after another, amazed at how her fantasy played out and felt in real life. It was simultaneously so much more difficult than she could have ever imagined, the invisible forces battering her, tugging and pulling with irrevocable force.

It was also even more thrilling than her wildest dreams.

Her heart fluttered in her chest. The wind violently thrashed her beautifully combed, obsidian silken hair around, tangling her most treasured personal feature without a care in the world. The strands flew completely taut for the first time in her life, tugging at her scalp, straining her neck as it tried to pull her head back.

Geynelle moaned at the violent caress. The gentle burning pain sent tingles shivering down her spine. She grimaced, her dark lips parting involuntarily. The tornado invaded her mouth, flapping her lips violently.

She tried to scream and moan, but the thrusting zephyr swallowed her voice entirely. The only sound that could be heard was the howl of the cyclone, the crashing destruction of property, and the slapping of her fleshy lips against her teeth as they oscillated back and forth.

Meanwhile, her dress pressed into the front of her body, its loose hem molding to the perfect contours of her curves as the bottom of it billowed outward behind her. The vibrating fabric rubbed her tingling nipples, sending electric shocks of desire coursing through every inch of her aroused being, down to every extremity. Her fingers trembled, her toes curled.

Even her skin was being pulled taut! The flesh of her arms, the beautiful shape of her thighs all quivered and jiggled wildly. It was a full body experience unlike that which she’d ever experienced.

It was… wonderful. Euphoric.

The tornado was touching down closer to Yorkmond now. Squinting her eyes, Geynelle could see in fear that it had begun battering tall, twenty floor skyscrapers, which would eventually raze it to the ground. The winds began to lift cars off the ground. The symphonic roar of the tornado’s winds was interrupted by the cacophony of heavy man made machinery slamming into buildings, metal crumpling and glass shattering into beads.

Her sex was sopping wet. She looked at her jiggling flesh in pure lust. She rubbed her thighs together, feeling the expensive silky fabric of her dress caress her intimacy. She wished she could talk to her online following about just what a dream come true this was. She breathed the scent of the storm into her lungs deeply, wanting to experience these marvelous winds in every way possible.

Geynelle’s only regret was that this would probably be the end of her.

Chapter 3

The twister was advancing more rapidly now. It traveled steadily through the outside borders of the city, sucking all the leaves off of the treetops before shattering their branches, and ultimately inhaling even the trunks and its deep roots out of the concrete into its destructive wake.

Glass shattered as the shingles and tiles of roofs were sent flying. Entire homes were smashed back into its constituent brick and mortar before even those bits were inhaled and consumed. It almost looked as if the tornado was feeding off of the earth.

The pavement of the street surfaces began to crumble as well. Nothing could stand against the force of this tornado.

And that was exactly what Geynelle wanted.

She stopped shielding her face, spreading her arms wide as if to embrace her violent lover. She grooved with the wind, dancing as if no one were watching, actively fighting a battle with it by twirling in the opposite direction. It allowed her hair to tug even harder, sending thrills through her electrified body.

She wanted to be swept away, destroyed, her mind wiped clean of all sensation but pure euphoria from this divine act of nature. She had walked out of the little shelter of her apartment entrance and was now staring down the miles-wide cyclonic beast before her that was stoking her burning arousal to heights she’d never even imagined possible.

Geynelle just stared helplessly, craning her neck back and letting the wind tug her around by her hair. Every sudden change of direction threatened to yank her off her wobbly feet. Her chest was flush with arousal, feeling superheated despite the furious rush of cold wind that battered her body. Every time her now wind-blown raggedy hair whipped her own face, she quivered in dark arousal with a synchronized, lusty moan from deep within her throat.

The cyclone spun her around once more. She struggled to keep up with her almost ritual-like dance, but between her slick, aching womanhood and her rapidly weakening legs, she was on the verge of losing both sexual and physical control.

As if on cue, the tornado swept up under her, nearly sucking her off her feet and yanking her by her hair. Geynelle cried out, trembling on the verge of a budding orgasm that could not be denied. She tried to hold her ponytail down, relieving the pressure as she struggled to make her way to a lamppost. Her feet barely touched the ground as the winds threatened to pluck her from terra firma at any moment.

Just as she felt herself lose her footing permanently, Geynelle managed to grab onto a lamp post that was still rooted to the earth. And then, the torment of the winds really picked up.

Geynelle screamed in pain and pleasure as the winds lifted her off her feet entirely, dragging her parallel to the cracked pavement of the sidewalk. It caressed her entire body, massaging and vibrating her skin, pricking the stiffening peaks of her generous breasts. The pinching feeling across her erect nipples combined with the violently lover’s tug of her hair ignited the volcano of pleasure that had been building deep in her womb. She erupted, her overworked body finally exploding from the erotic pleasure that had been building inside of her this whole time.

“Ahhhhhh!” Her voice caught deep in her throat.

Geynelle’s orgasmic explosion actually helped her to hang onto the lamp post more tightly, her entire body clenching with the flush of ecstatic release. Her long, toned legs twitched and spasmed even as the tornado wrung her out. The zephyrs traced down her tingling, hyper-sensitive skin from head to toe, massaging her shoulders and grinding against her glistening, leaking dark folds of her nether region.

Geynelle luxuriated in the feeling of coursing pleasure igniting her veins. In that moment, she couldn’t even register the burning strain of her muscles in her arms, hanging on for dear life. Her entire awareness was consumed by the joy of a true orgasm, one that eclipsed anything she’d ever experienced.

Just when she was about to come back down and regain her senses, the winds picked up again. Before she could even react, they tugged even harder on her hair with renewed effort, craning her neck back forcefully against her will. Her aching, overstimulated clit radiated with nonstop pure pleasure, protruding out from underneath its wet sheathe. Not missing its opportunity, the tornado twisted and swirled around it, causing Geynelle to suck a deep breath in involuntary ecstasy.

It was relentless. The tornado continued to pull, twist, tease and grind. Geynelle would have been covered in a thin sheen of sweat, if the wind hadn’t blown it away as well. It was taking everything away from her. Her social acquaintances, her unsteady career path, and now even her life… replacing it all with burning, gusting pleasure.

Geynelle welcomed it. She revelled in it.

With another powerful yank, her rapidly fraying hair tie disintegrated against the pressure exerted on it by her wind-blown hair, sending her long strands splaying wildly.

She exploded in another powerful orgasm. Her pleasure-weakened body began to lose its grip on the lamp post, but all she could do was cry out with fierce, mind-melting ecstasy as her entire body went rigid while her elated soul celebrated…

Chapter 4

All of the relics inside Geynelle’s apartment began to glow. The runes of her manuscripts lit up, her expensive telephoto cameras whirred to life, the wall scrolls tucked deep in her closet began to flutter, clattering loudly.

The plastic material of her green screen began to tremble, its fastenings rattling against the wall before the whole sheet blew away. Even her little digital keyboard began to dance, playing the ocean tidal and dancing snow music that Geynelle had managed to teach herself. Her little clay sculptures came to life, their frozen poses suddenly fluttering in an enormous storm.

The swirling, multicolored energies of all of her objects streaked out of her apartment and enveloped her in a warm glow of power.

Geynelle’s hands slipped off the lamp post. Still in the midst of the titanic throes of her sexual ecstasy, she was blissfully unaware of her imminent doom.

But before she began to twirl helplessly in the winds, those mystical energies from her personal artifacts, gathered and stored up from years of Geynelle’s obsessive devotion, flowed into her body. She began to turn upright in the storm winds, coming to a gentle stop back on solid ground, feet first.

Geynelle’s orgasmic trembling finally ceased. She opened her eyes, not knowing what she expected to see.

But she definitely didn’t expect to be standing right in the midst of the swirling cyclonic funnel,  the most violent part of the storm. And even more, she could barely feel its forces at all! Her dress, her hair, her skin, all of it stood serenely still even as the environment around her crumbled and withered away.

An airborne car was on a collision course with her. But she didn’t panic at all. With a simple glance and a sweep of her arm, she diverted its course entirely, flinging it over her shoulder with a surge of air that she somehow knew she was capable of manipulating.

What was happening?

Geynelle walked around freely, completely unaffected by the buffeting air. Her hair was frazzled from its previous beating, but otherwise it lay in place down her back. She strutted around, footsteps unencumbered, arms swinging freely. She could still feel the wind tugging on her body, but it seemed to be Geynelle’s conscious decision whether or not it affected her…

Experimentally, she raised her arms, her new wind-infused body thrumming with the inconceivable power of a goddess, commanding the air to pool beneath her and gently elevate her to the skies. Two small eddies conjured out of nowhere began to swirl around her ankles, blowing faster and larger, before they coalesced into one large conical shape, sending her rising into the air!

All the while, she was still standing in the most violent part of the F5 tornado that she thought she had resigned her fate to.

The weakness of her soul-shattering orgasm was leaving her body. Geynelle felt refreshed, renewed, and ready to go another round. She felt powerful. Brimming with energy. As she floated toward the eye of the cyclone, her new goddess’ body carving through the city-destroying winds as if they weren’t present, she closed her eyes and focused on the new, swirling sensations thrumming in her soul. The ebb and pull of the breath of life was hers to control. To command.

She breathed deeply, sucking up a large portion of the vicious tornado with her easy inhalation. A keen eye would have visibly noticed the inexplicable shrinking of that all-destructive F5 cyclone.

Geynelle exhaled for a long while, a powerful breeze escaping her parted lips. Her gentle breath refueled the cyclone she had siphoned off and then some. The F5 tornado increased in power dramatically, defying all known human categorization as it burst to life once again. It was as if she had thrown a tanker’s worth of gasoline on a raging fire.

And there was no end to the powerful zephyrs inside of her. She could have sucked up the entire tornado with one, endless breath. No, more than that. Far more. Geynelle could inhale all of the world’s air currents at her playful whim. As easily as a kitten curiously swatting objects off a table.

When Geynelle finally opened her eyes once again, she was floating in the eye of the whirlwind. Her eyes twinkled with power and understanding. All of her sexual fantasies of the squall were hers to command and explore now.

Her hair was a disgraceful mess. With her body fully recovered and rip raring to go again, a furnace of arousal reigniting deep in her womb, her disheveled tresses were a sign of her former mortal weakness. It should be as perfectly pristine, matching the matchless power she felt inside herself as she explored her new ascension to windy goddesshood.

Soft, gentle tendrils of air blew into existence around her head. It pressed firmly and deeply into her scalp, like a caring lover’s massage. Geynelle moaned at the soothing touch of her power.

Those ethereal fingers began to flow down her loose strands of her frazzled hair, restoring it to full luster and health. It looked as if Geynelle had just come out of the shower after treating it, her strands thick, silky, and warm to the touch. Carefully and lovingly brushed, her mane would send delicate, aching tingles to anyone’s hands lucky enough to trace through her midnight black yarn.

Geynelle revelled in the feel of her hair swishing across her voluptuous, feminine arched back. She felt fantastic! More beautiful than ever. She looked down her front, seeing the earth hundreds of feet below her. The spectacular sight made her laugh out loud, her voice somehow overpowering the howling bluster of the tornado she was flying in the middle of.

Somehow, all of her features had subtly shifted. Her voice was a silken purr, enhanced by the power of the wind brimming inside of her. Her whisper could tickle the ear, sending shivers down someone’s spine with her seductive siren’s song.

Experimentally, Geynelle willed the winds to tease, squeeze, and pinch her tingling peaks. Her pussy contracted violently as her windy lover’s caress sent violent bolts of pleasure coursing through her new, enhanced body. An enormous gush of wind blasted out from her intimate core, shattering the earth hundreds of feet below, leaving a tremendous impact crater!

This was more like it!

Geynelle moaned, the throaty sounds of her whimper entrancing even her own senses. The sound of her voice whispered in her ear, promising untold pleasure the likes of which she’d never experienced. And now, it was all at her fingertips.

Her body spasmed in pleasure once again as her invisible lover continued to whisper sweet nothings in her ear. Geynelle’s new svelte, longer legs trembled and contorted rigidly as she enjoyed the soul-shattering pleasure that only her new body could endure. After a few minutes of trembling in pleasure, she began to kick her new sinuous stems, flying around freely as a breeze, with no sense of direction or urgency, merely drifting in the bliss of the moment.

Then, a satisfied sigh, which intensified the tornado up another impossible magnitude.

Pursing her dark lips, Geynelle blew gently, unleashing a infinitesimally small fraction of the power of the goddess inside of her. The blustering squall of the tornado grew to a deafening howl as it doubled in power, then doubled again, every second of Geynelle’s breath growing the unstoppable beast to epic proportions that had never been witnessed before.

The crater created from her easy orgasm widened as concrete and earth were drilled away by her hyper-fueled tornado. It defied classification as it twisted, its area larger than the entire city that had been evacuated. Every single structure was crumbling in its wake, steel beams rent asunder, bent and battered as they swirled and crashed into each other.

Smiling at the destructive forces that she so casually commanded, Geynelle raised her hands to the sky, eyes glowing with power. The twisting winds spun even faster, blending the city into unrecognizable bits of dust with every passing second.

Then, tingling with anticipation, Geynelle let her immunity to the windy forces she controlled drift away into nothingness.

Immediately, her body was sensually assaulted by forces never exerted on this planet before, let alone a human. Only her new goddesshood allowed her to survive the experience. What should have shredded her voluptuous, perfected female form into pieces instead now satisfied the sexual longing she had fantasized about for so long!

Her straight-as-an-arrow ebony hair turned into its own black whirlwind as the F10+ tornado spiraled around her. She screamed in ecstasy as her violent phantom lover clawed and ripped at her lustrous mane, rapidly twisting her around like a spinning top.

Geynelle's flowing black dress was stressed to its limit, constantly whipping against every inch of the luscious curves of her body. Overtaxed and begging for relief, her garb began to rip and tear at the seams, falling apart as it repeatedly slammed and pressed into the wide, outer curve of her flared hips, her tight, pert rear, or the dramatic swell of her full breasts.

The frayed threads began to rip, exposing more and more of Geynelle’s dramatic naked glory. Her whipping gale tore straps over the shoulders, snaking underneath and into the tiny gap between her body and the fabric, billowing it out like a balloon before violently popping it. Geynelle’s dress burst apart into tiny little pieces, swept up by the F10 tornado that had now leveled the entire city of Yorkmond.

She moaned in pure, unadulterated pleasure as that battering, savage wind assaulted her naked skin. Led by her taut hair, the ghostly fingers of the gale tugged her along, spinning every which way, thrashing in an out of control midair ballet.

Geynelle’s overflowing well of pleasure finally burst as she roared in ecstasy.

Her body clenched as she saw stars underneath her closed eyes. Rapturous delight coursed through her needy, aroused goddess’s form, all originating from the harsh and aggressive erotic tug and forceful yanking of her cherished hair. Her ragged, orgasmic breathing overpowered the torrential tornado that was giving her such untold pleasure, causing it to waver in and out of existence with every outward pulse of air and every inward raggedy breath.

Her aching core continued to radiate pure pleasure as her pussy lips spasmed, seeking something, anything to fill her, to grip onto. As Geynelle continued to erupt in neverending bliss, she began to hover gently toward the pockmarked, destroyed earth, as gentle as a feather. The entire scene was a painting of contradictions: Geynelle, beautiful and untouchable, completely unharmed, serenely falling back to earth while enjoying the apocalyptic winds that had decimated the entire city and its surroundings.

As she swayed back and forth, cradled in comfort by her ghostly lover in her relaxed, post-coital state, the tornado withered away, blinking out of existence. She had sucked it all up with her orgasmic detonation. It belonged to her now, fully at her beck and whim.

Her recent sexual release wasn’t nearly enough. Not even close. Geynelle wanted more! She needed more. Her womanhood was slick, dripping her sweet nectar as she touched down into the deep crater of her making.

Standing perfectly still, Geynelle levitated back up into the sky on a soft bed of air. She marveled at the spectacle of a city reduced to rubble—all that power, all that wanton destruction, and the only effect it had on her was to give her a life shattering burst of goddess-fueled ecstasy. She drew upon that power once again, power that she had condensed inside of her impossible body, and breathed life into a ghostly apparition made of air.

The masculine form, barely visible to the naked eye, whistled through the air ominously as it charged into Geynelle at full speed. Infused with the full power of an F10 tornado, it barreled into her torso, tackling her viciously. Geynelle giggled as she soared for miles in her aggressive lover’s embrace, cooing and wrapping her arms around his airy yet solid torso.

She pressed her fingers along his muscled back, delighting in his superhuman strength as he continued to shove her back, propelled by a powerful funnel of wind at his feet. Experimentally, Geynelle allowed her fingers to sink through the boundaries of his shape. His harsh exhalation was a personification of a ragged gasp of pain. His super powerful shell was so easily and effortlessly penetrated by this goddess!

Refusing to give up, it reached out with its arms, morphing them into mini tornados that extended to Geynelle’s most erotic, vulnerable weakness. Sweeping her loose hair up with the twisting funnels extending from his torso, he yanked her hair back, eliciting a shockingly powerful gasp from his mistress.

Her breath pierced the skies and heavens above, scattering all of the clouds in its wake. To have such concentrated power pulling so viciously at her new body which could withstand unthinkable levels of strain, only serving to fuel her lifelong sexual obsession and desire to be wind-blown…

Geynelle latched onto the thick trunk of a tree, hanging perpendicular to it as her little windy puppet continued to tug at the only weakness she’d shown. She giggled at its helplessness, knowing that it affected her only as much as she allowed. And she would definitely allow this.

The swirling winds latched on tightly to her hair and continued to pry at her hair. She let it flow freely, getting pulled wholly rigid by her pet tornado’s embrace. But his superhuman tornado strength did nothing to damage her hair’s beauty and luster. He only served to bring his goddess of power closer and closer to yet another orgasm.

“Harder!” she ordered.

The masculine wind form whined, already stressed to the limits of its power. It hissed a whistling exhalation as it attempted to pull her hair even harder. The thick bark of the tree trunk Geynelle was hanging onto began to strip off. Huge chunks of the forest behind that began to bend and sway.

“More!!” Geynelle cried, at the brink of another ecstatic explosion.

The apparition tried to redouble its efforts, but it could do no more. The hundred-year-old sturdy tree trunk creaked before finally snapping. The pair of lovers crashed through the forest behind them, leveling it as easily as it had the city.

Suddenly, Geynelle refused to move any further, and they hovered in complete stillness in midair. She was still lying horizontal on her back as her tornado continued to blast thousand mile an hour winds over and through her prone body.

She spread her legs, her sex vacuuming his entire ethereal being into her immaculate, waiting pussy. Her dark folds beckoned him in, and he was powerless to resist. He vainly struggled to pull his hips back, but inch by inch, he inexorably felt his essence getting sucked deep inside her longing core. His hips slammed into her powerful thighs as his attached wind rammed into her pelvic floor. He was buried to the hilt, and he could not extricate himself, hard as he might try.

Geynelle whimpered as she felt herself filled so fully, her little F10 tornado pet vibrating so satisfyingly inside of her, rubbing her urgent, needy flesh. Her tight coils squeezed and gripped the airy dildo, more solid than any man made material. And yet, she threatened to shatter and dissipate his turgid erection into nothingness with just an easy flex.

Suddenly, her lover found himself drawing back out of her. Was she losing her control over him?

He struggled to remove himself. Just when his tip was near her entrance once again, her slick folds rubbing over that hyper-sensitive incorporeal bit of his anatomy, he found himself plunging back into her moist heat once again.

Geynelle was pushing him out and sucking him back in!

The power of her perverted pussy forced her little pet to pump in and out of her slick depths at her command. His powerful wind-formed phallus glided back and forth, in and out, bursting penetrating wind from his tip that hammered Geynelle in all the right spots, with all the right touches.

Every single, powerful thrust caused him to emit even more wind from his violently shaking erection. Every time his hips slammed into hers, he disintegrated even further, blasting his very essence into her as he struggled to contain his shape.

“More!!” Geynelle screamed, half begging, half commanding.

The torrential winds picked up once more as he found himself unable to control his motions any longer. Everything he had, all of the city-leveling energy contained in his hard shell hammered into her, shoving him in and out so quickly that he looked as if he were vibrating. The rest of his body funneled all its energy into his swirling cones for arms, pulling Geynelle’s hair back twice as violently as he blasted inside of her hot folds.

“Yes! Yesss!” Geynelle cried.

Her face was contorted in a grimace of pleasure as her pristine, silken hair received one last, final tug. He burst inside of her, rubbing her molten core in just the right way.

Geynelle’s body clenched furiously, her legs shearing his body in half, her inner folds clamping down on his sturdy shaft until it dissipated into thin air. She screamed as she bent in half, coming more violently than she’d ever known after being literally fucked by the wind. Finally, his arms gave her hair one final, withering pull before vanishing into nothingness as well.

When she came down off her orgasmic peak, she opened her eyes to survey yet another mile wide crater beneath her. Splintered wood and war-torn earth were all that remained. Not even an F10 tornado had survived her endless lust.

She smiled. All it would take to feel like this again would be a simple snap of her fingers, or a little puff of her breath...