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Nanarie takes a quick look around to be sure she’s alone in the dark wood. The river before her looked inviting after a long day of slaughter, she drapes her robes over a near by tree and slinks into the chilling water, washing the blood from hands.

Hagane stalked through the river, chasing after eels He had to make some quick money, and he surfaced a few yards down the river. His eyes caught the supple form of his wife, he knew her from anywhere, so he slowly stalked over to where she bathed, moving with the deadly silence of a predator, unheard, and unseen.

Nanarie sinks lower in the water, bring it to her chin, closes her eyes enjoying the feel of it swirling around her, with a quick dunk she disappears beneath the surface. Coming up in a rush, her breasts bounding from the water, glistening, only to sink just below once more. She reaches up to wipe the water from her face, she lay back, eyes closed in the protection the waters depths. Hagane moved towards the bank as he sat upon it now behind her, in view. He smirked, he was the hunter of the two of them, and he watched her, a hungry look on his face as he grinned.

She was not alone, she quickly opened her eyes, dunking lower in the water, she was the slightest bit modest after all. What if they hadn’t spotted her yet, was it friendly or foe? She was completely defenseless, armor and robes upon the shore. She could only imagine how Hagane would react if he found her defenseless in unknown waters. She slowly turns her head to scan the waters surface, her eyes coming to rest upon the bank by her clothes. Her eyes widened fixing gaze with her husbands.

“Keep going.. I’m enjoying the show.” He said with a soft laugh.

He relaxed a bit, undoing the clasps of his band mail as he removed his armor slowly, getting down to his leather pants. She breathed a sigh of relief that he wasn’t upset with her. She could see what else he had in mind though, a devilish grin taking her. Slowly she rises from the depths, water pearling off her dark skin as inch by inch it is exposed to her waist. The breeze whistling by her budding nipples made them hard and tingle, her hair plastering down each shoulders.

“Coming to join me dear? I didn’t hear you come up.”

“Of course I’m joining you..” He said as he stood up, new great sword and armor on the gümüşhane escort bank as he wiggled out of his pants. His toned formed moved with deadly grace as he slipped into the water beside her, arms curling her supple form as he pulled her close against him, nuzzling her neck gently. His body was hot against her wet flesh, his strong arms the only thing holding her above the water as her knees got weak from his kisses upon her flesh.

“I slaughtered a croc for you today.” She quickly choked out, knowing it would please him to know she’d been hunting herself.

“Good… you’re getting stronger, that’s great. Soon we’ll be hunting side by side, like we were meant to be.” He softly, gently nuzzling her along the neck as he lead her out deeper into the water. He’d always wanted to try it this way… in the water… his dark hair was tied up today. Nanarie grasp upon him firmly, her legs frantically kicking, she wasn’t sure about deep water, who knew what lay beneath it. Her nails slightly grinding into his back as she clasp to him. She could feel his naked hips touching hers, his tones stomach pressed against her flesh, a deep stirring inside her awakened once again.

“I won’t let you sink.”

He said slowly to her with a dark, evil smile as he ground his hips slowly against hers, playfully at that, his cock rock hard, and waiting. He nibbled along her neck gently as he held her close to him.

“I know.” She whispered, despite her uncertainty of having nothing under her feet, she trusted her husband, with her life and more, he’d not let her go, a childish fear anyway. Her fear subsided to the feelings his was stirring inside her. She released her death grip upon him to wrap her arms about his neck, enjoying the feel of him around her. Her body ached for more than he was giving, and he knew it. He loved to torture her, as she did him, still had the robe marks from the torturous deeds the morn before.

“Wrap your legs around my waist.” He said to her with a dark smile. His hand caress along the supple curves of her body as he growled playfully to her, his hands gave her ass a playful squeeze.

She was weightless in the water, feeling free and buoyant, with a grin she did as he asked, her legs coming to lock behind his back, resting hatay escort just above his firm buttock. He was poised against her, she could feel his thick cock waiting to strike against her. She thought to torture him this time. She slipped her hips down slightly, to take the tip inside here, the cold water rushing up to playfully tease her hot sex. Hagane smirked softly as he let his hips grind up against hers as his hands rested upon her hips, forcing her to take him slowly inside of her cunt, filling her fully again as he smiled darkly to his queen. They always enjoyed the pleasures of the flesh with each other, they were dark elves after all… and married to boot.

“Who is torturing who?” She moans as inch after glorious inch spreads her lips, entering deep inside her. Tingles shiver up her spine as she longs to bring herself quickly down upon him, but forces herself to take it slow, enjoying every movement of his body. Hagane laughed softly, grinding his hips against hers as he was fully buried inside of her tight cunt. He grinds against her slowly, touching her in those spots only he could reach. His eyes locked with hers as he smiled lovingly to her. A dark elves love was a rare and special thing, for it didn’t come easily, especially from a hardened killer. She wiggles her hips, determined to quicken his pace, trying to force his hand, devious, she knew but she loved his primal desire. Her sex tightening upon him, squeezing him deep inside her, drawing him farther than she thought he could fit.

He smirked and continued to tease her nice and slow, filling her with his cock still as he ground his hips against hers. A dark smile spread upon his face as his hands moved slowly to the shapely cheeks of her rear which he grabbed and used now to guide her on and off of his cock. The strength of his hands upon her was glorious, she loved his control, his power. She felt the water rush around them as she rode him, in and out of her body, her lips come to meet the nap of his shoulder. Her teeth baring out to nibble his flesh.

“mmmm” He tasted so good.

He grinned as he slowly let her take over riding his hardened cock, he nuzzled against her neck gently. His hands gripped her rear firmly as he stared eye to eye with his wife, a smile on his ısparta escort face.

“I love you..”

Nanarie’s heart soared as her body clenched against him, she leaned in furiously to take him in a lustful, almost brutal kiss, tongue intertwining in his mouth. She pumped her hips, forcing his manhood deep inside her, allowing the water to slap between her breasts to splash upon his chest. Hagane kissed her back just as hungrily, his body would aid in bouncing her on and off of his hard cock, filling her over and over again, touching her in those special places which drove her wild. A smile on his face, he felt his release rising, and just waited for hers to come as well.

The waves of water about them seemed to drift into waves of lust, her body starting to convulse from the feel of him inside her. Her need getting the better of her she forces her self harshly down upon him. Her head thrown back, eyes closed, she could taste the blood upon her lip as she bites into it, a growing growl in her throat.

“Lets cum together..” He said to her with a soft, smile, hips continued to meet her thrust for thrust, bouncing her on and off his cock, touching her deeply inside and slowly grinding his hips against hers occasionally as they made love. His soft spoken words were almost her undoing.

“I’m loosing control!” She groaned out as her eyes met his to gain her restraint back, he was always in control, she’d never force him to give without him letting it happen. She wanted his hot seed inside her, spraying upon her sensitive parts where only he had explored before. Her body milked his shaft as if for a last dying breath.

“Cum with me my wife.” He whispered to her as he finally released inside of her, filling her with his hot seed as he grit his teeth His hips ground against hers as he filled her with his hot seed, inside of those silken folds, his hips moving against hers, they seemed like one when ever they did make love. With one body, one soul, she came with him, her moans echoing through the valley.

“So good.” She muffled out as her teeth sank into his shoulder, her hands grasping onto his back, clutching on to him. It took minutes before her body would start to relax, the water now feeling exhilarating rushing past them.

He brought a hand up to caress her cheek as he held her form against his, slowly bringing them back to the shore, they were screwing like jack rabbits, but he loved it… besides, Nanarie was hot, so, why should he complain? The other dark elf males were missing out on her, not him.

Who says she’d share her soul with other elves? It was this handsome warrior that had captured her in his enchantment.

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Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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Hello and welcome to my readers. Thanks for your votes, PM’s and e-mails on my stories. Legends have sprung up over the centuries regarding the origins of the elements and physical phenomena that surround us. They recount tales of mythical beings as being the sources of and controlling these forces. Zack Pearson discovers that these myths may in fact be reality.

——————————— ———————————

Threading his way through the charred ruins, Zack stumbled over a body.

What the…? I thought everyone was rescued…

He jumped back as the body sat up, sneezed and opened it’s eyes. He found himself gazing into red and pink orbs that seemed to glow from within. The soot begrimed face was that of a woman, who grinned at him showing perfect white teeth.

“You sure know how to awaken someone,” she purred in mock irritation, giving Zack an exaggerated wink. “Are you a man or a fish?”

Zack shut his gaping mouth.

“How did you…uh…ahh…” he sputtered as the woman stood up in one lithe movement, soot and ashes falling from her body. She appeared to be young with a shapely figure, hair a reddish-yellow waterfall over her shoulders and clad in a tunic the color of drifting smoke.

“Oh my, a conversationalist too,” she quipped. He would have sworn her voice sounded like crackling flames. “I stopped by to take a nap. I didn’t expect company. I’m sorry the place is such a mess.”

“Who are you? How did you survive the fire? We couldn’t get near enough to fight it effectively. The paint and solvents burned at over 800 degrees. The foam could barely…”

He stopped suddenly, realizing he was babbling while she looked at him; her head cocked to one side and an amused grin on her face.

“Would you like to see how it started?” she asked playfully.

“Uh…yeah…sure.”

“Follow me. No, wait a moment…”

A smoldering roof truss groaned and came crashing down before them in a blizzard of sparks. Zack flipped his facemask down as cinders peppered him. The woman stood calmly in the swirling cloud, unscathed.

“Now, it’s right over here,” she continued, stepping easily over the debris. Zack glanced down. Her feet were bare! Yet she walked through the glowing embers as easily as a cool green lawn. He shook his head and followed her, boots crunching, feeling heat through the thick soles.

“Here we are,” she said, stopping before a wall of electrical panels. With a screech of torn metal, she effortlessly lifted one and pointed to a small skeleton.

“It was a rat gathering wires to make a nest. Completed a circuit, shorted the panel out and the whole place went up. I felt it from where I was and decided it was time for a nap. I love sleeping in a roaring fire, don’t you?”

Zack lifted his facemask, stared at the skeleton, then at the woman, then at the jagged panel.

She pulled that panel apart as if she was turning the page of a book. What is she anyway?

The woman smiled at him again.

“I like you. You’re cute. You needn’t be afraid of me,” she glanced at his name stripe, “Zack Pearson.”

He felt sweat rolling down his spine.

“Who are you? What are you? I never…”

“My name is Mandy. I’m a Fire Elemental.”

“A fire what?”

“A Fire Elemental, remember the four elements Earth, Air, Fire and Water? I’m Fire, but I’m different from the other Elementals. I’m half human. My mother is a Sorceress, my father a Vulcanus…they fell in love and here I am.”

“I do not believe this,” Zack muttered. “I must have hit my head or something. I’m dreaming.”

Mandy reached out and pinched Zack’s nose. He cried out in pain. The touch of her fingers was like burning coals.

She pinched him again, and the pain was gone. He gingerly touched his nose it was unharmed.

“Okay, you’re an Elemental…you play with…I mean you’re fire. What are you doing here, besides taking a nap?”

“I played one too many pranks on the Lava Imps. They hate water balloons. The Supreme One banished me to this plane of existence until I learn to behave myself. I get my sense of humor from my mother, she’s always doing mischief. Father shrugs and tends to his volcanoes.”

Zack sighed; this was too much to comprehend. She wasn’t lying, that was certain.

“Now that you’ve done my job for me, I guess I’ll be going. Can I drive you somewhere Miss…um…Mandy?”

“You’re cute. I like you a lot. Can I go home with you?”

Zack hesitated, he spent little time in his apartment, usually taking his meals and sleeping at the firehouse. When his wife Sheila had left him five years ago to ‘find herself’, he continued the lease hoping she would return, but knowing deep down she would not.

In spite of his desire to be alone with his memories, there was something about this…this elemental…that intrigued him. She was happy and smiling, two things he seldom was or did. Why not, she’s beautiful…and she likes me.

“Sure. C’mon, I have to stop by the station for a minute then we’ll go to my apartment.”

She izmir escort flashed him a dazzling smile and her eyes glowed.

“Oh goodie, do I get to ride in one of those automobile things?”

“Haven’t you ever ridden in a car before?”

“No. The last time I was here, there were wagons and oxcarts.”

“Huh? Just how old are you,” he blurted, forgetting his manners.

She frowned.

“I’m not sure. Mother was a Grecian sorcerer when she conjured Father by mistake…I was born not too long afterward…I guess about a 1,000 human years or so. Time means nothing when you’re in the Supreme One’s Realm.”

“A thousand years? That’s impossible.”

“Hee…Hee…you’re doing that fish face again. Nothing is impossible in the Realm.”

Zack sighed. This was all too much. A 1,000-year-old woman who could sleep in a roaring fire seemed impossible, but whatever she was, he couldn’t just leave her here.

“Wait a minute while I take some photos, then we’ll go.”

While he was photographing where the fire started, Mandy amused herself by examining Zack’s red sedan, the words ‘Arson Investigation Division’ emblazoned in gold leaf on the doors. She looked curiously at the vehicles hood, then shimmered and disappeared.

Zack came walking up to the car wondering where she had gone when she reappeared, wiping a smear of grease from her cheek.

“I was curious about what made this thing go. It’s a series of rapid, constrained detonations. My father would be interested in this, being into explosions and all.”

Zach shook his head. This is not happening.

“You went inside the motor?”

“I didn’t touch anything, just looked around. Pretty dirty in there I’ll have you know.”

Zack pressed the lock fob and opened the door so Mandy could enter. She tripped delicately to the opening, peered inside and gracefully sat down. The hem of her tunic rode up revealing shapely thighs; Zack couldn’t help but stare. She saw him and winked.

He hurriedly closed the door and walked back to the car’s trunk, removing his helmet, fireproof suit and boots. His t-shirt and jeans were soaked with sweat, sticking to him like a second skin. Sliding behind the wheel, Zack started the engine and turned the air conditioning on full blast.

Mandy stared at the air conditioning vents, and then settled back in her seat, looking out the window. Putting the car in gear, Zack drove to Fire Station Number Seven where he parked, told Mandy he’d be a few minutes and left the car running.

When he returned, the car’s interior smelled of scorched plastic. Mandy was sitting innocently in her seat. The acrid fumes made him cough.

“Mandy, what did you do?”

She lifted in her seat showing him the melted cushion, her tunic unmarked.

“I was cold, so I warmed up. I didn’t mean to damage your car.”

“I guess I had the air on too high, huh?”

“Well,” she giggled, “Maybe just a little.”

They drove to Zack’s apartment complex with the windows open.

***

“What a nice home you have here,” Mandy said as she walked about the living room.

Zack was still trying to figure how he was going to explain the ruined car seat to the maintenance crew at the city garage. He mumbled “thanks” as he locked the door. Shelia had decorated the apartment and it was as she left it; Zack hadn’t changed a thing. One of the few women he’d dated had called it a ‘shrine’.

Mandy was looking at the volumes in the bookcase when Zack said “If you’ll excuse me for a few minutes, I need to shower.”

“Sure, no problem,” she replied and continued looking.

Throwing his sodden clothing into the wash hamper, he turned on the water and was soon luxuriating under the warm spray. The stall door opened abruptly and Mandy was standing there, her eyes softly glowing. She looked appraisingly at Zack’s broad chest, narrow waist and muscled legs, then at the thick cock hanging between them.

“Want some company?”

Not waiting for an answer, she pulled the tunic over her head and joined him in the shower. Mandy had a classic figure, reproduced in thousands of sculptures throughout history. Her breasts were plump and rounded, topped by nipples large as a man’s thumb and rosy pink. Her waist was thick; her hips ample, her legs long and shapely, buttocks round and firm, her skin like velvet and pleasantly warm.

Mandy began running her fingers through Zack’s thick chest hair, his stiffening cock twitching against her thigh. Neither had spoken, no words were needed. In one deft motion, she curled her left leg around his waist, gripped his shoulders and impaled herself on his pillar of flesh. Zack hugged Mandy, kissing her deeply as their hips moved in an easy rhythm. She leaned back on the wet tiles to brace herself, lifting her pussy to better engulf his throbbing cock as he thrust into her.

The bathroom echoed to the slap of wet flesh, gasps and moans, little shrieks of delight and throaty growls. Zack felt Mandy’s kahramanmaraş escort skin turn warmer, her lips hotter against his own, her pussy tightening on his cock in an ovening grip; yet he could no more stop fucking her than he could cease breathing.

In a final flurry of thrusts, Zack could control himself no longer. He erupted inside Mandy with an anguished cry, his knees trembling. It was as if she had been waiting for him to come as she shrieked in orgasm, her body jerking in a spasm of release. Locked together, they slid to the floor and lay panting, water cascading over them.

They lay entangled for several minutes, staring groggily at each other, overwhelmed by the intensity of their lovemaking.

“Water’s getting cold.”

“I’ll fix it.”

The showerhead glowed and the water ran hot once more. Zack grinned and Mandy winked at him.

“I guess we better dry off.”

“Okay.”

Zack shut off the water, opened the stall door and handed Mandy a towel. She shook her head, motioned for him to step out and became enveloped in a cloud of steam, then said, “All dry” as she fluffed her long hair with her fingers.

***

“What would you like to eat?” Zack asked, rummaging in the refrigerator, “We can always order in.”

“Let me think,” Mandy replied. “The last meal I had, I shared a roasted ox with some nice men in green uniforms…”

“Sorry, fresh out of ox,” Zack said as he closed the refrigerator door. “How about some barbecue?”

“Barbecue? Oh yes, Caribbean style cooking. That sounds good. I’ll have roast pig.”

“A pork platter? Sure, what do you want with it?”

“The pig will be fine.”

“Wait. You want a whole pig?”

“Why yes. You can remove the head, I don’t care for that.”

“You can eat a whole pig by yourself?”

“Of course, but I’ll share with you.”

“I don’t think a whole pig is on the menu, how about two jumbo pork plates?”

“I guess that would be all right.”

Zack began phoning in the order when Mandy pressed herself against his back, nuzzled his neck and began playing with his cock. He could barely get the words out to complete the order, and then dropped the phone. He turned around and they began hugging and kissing, rubbing against each other. Mandy’s skin was already growing warm with desire as he lifted her onto the kitchen table and entered her swiftly.

Moaning in pleasure, she crossed her legs around his waist and raised her hips to his matching thrust for thrust. Her fingernails dug into his shoulders as she begged him to go faster and harder. Zack pounded into her with all his strength, her moist pussy walls tight and warm against his stiff cock.

Mandy shrieked with pleasure as her orgasm racked her body, spraying Zack’s cock and thighs with her creamy juices. He joined her cry with one of his own as he erupted deep within her, spurts of cum bursting from him. Still embraced, they slid to the cool tile floor and lay exhausted.

“I knew you were a mighty lover the minute I saw you,” Mandy purred.

Zack could only groan in response. Then the doorbell rang.

“Oh goodie, the food’s here,” Mandy said excitedly. Before Zack could move she sprang to her feet, ran to the door and pulled it open, crushing the knob and tearing the latch and deadbolt from the door frame. An astonished delivery boy stood there, his eyes wide.

“Oh my, that smells good,” Mandy said, smiling at the gaping young man. “Does everyone do that fish imitation around here?”

She plucked the bags from his grasp and carried them to the kitchen table. Zack said, “Wait a minute, I’ll get my wallet.”

“Oh…er…no problem,” the boy replied. “Just stop by and pay us when you get a chance.” He stared at Mandy’s naked beauty once more and ran down the hall.

She was already devouring her plates of food when Zack sat down. She swallowed and said “This is very good, can we order some more?”

Zack nodded and grinned. She was an amazing…whatever she was.

***

“Zack, this is the fourth fire in a space of six weeks. Headquarters is convinced we’ve a serial arsonist running loose.” Captain Cartwright ran his hand through his thinning brown hair as he paced back and forth. “Every investigator in the department is looking for this person and we don’t have a single lead. There’s no trace of flammable liquids or materials, but three factories have burned to the ground… then, of course, there’s your rat, which makes four. How the heck did you discover that animal started the fire anyway?”

“I had some help…” Zack began, when a chorus of hoots and whistles erupted from outside the Captain’s office.

“What the devil is going on?” Cartwright muttered. He strode to the door in time to see Mandy strutting towards him, a crowd of firefighters following her like hounds after a fox. Zack looked over the Captain’s shoulder, smiled and said, “That’s my cousin, Cap’n. I asked her to meet me here for lunch.” Cartwright didn’t answer, manavgat escort just stared.

Zack had shown Mandy the closet full of clothes his wife had left behind and told her to help herself to whatever she liked. One thing was sure; Shelia had never looked as sexy as Mandy did in her clothes.

She had chosen the skimpiest of tops and shorts in bright red and yellow, sandals with high heels that emphasized her long shapely legs and round ass. She was not wearing a bra and her breasts bounced gently under the thin fabric. Mandy’s reddish yellow hair floated down her back as she smiled and winked at the jostling crowd of men.

As she came near she said, “Hi Zack. Who’s your friend?” She patted the stunned Captain’s cheek, “You’re cute.”

Zack could barely keep from laughing as he said, “Captain, I’d like you to meet my Cousin Mandy from New Zealand. She’s here for a visit. Mandy, this is my boss, Captain Cartwright.”

Mandy hugged the astonished man and kissed him. “Oh hello, it’s nice to meet you.”

Cartwright’s face turned bright red as the men made appreciative noises.

“Ah…ahem…a pleasure to meet you Miss…” He stammered.

Zack eased past him saying, “I’ll check on those factory sites after lunch, Cap’n.”

They drove away, leaving a fire station in turmoil.

***

“I really liked those taco things,” Mandy said. “There are so many interesting foods to try. What will we have for dinner?”

“Dinner? You ate two dozen tacos and you want dinner?” Zack replied incredulously.

“I have an extremely active metabolism,” Mandy replied primly. “That’s what that nice man in the laboratory told me.”

“Man? What man? When was this?”

“Let me see now, I’m not sure, it’s been so long…ummm…Louis…something. I forget. Anyway, I need a lot of food when I’m in this plane of existence. I’m thinking beef for dinner…”

“There’s the first warehouse that burned,” Zack interrupted. “Let’s check it out.”

***

“We’re the third team to investigate this fire and we haven’t found a trace of how it started,” Zack said disgustedly.

Mandy smiled at the word ‘team’, but said nothing.

“Zack, look at this. What an odd burn mark.”

She knelt next to a scorched area on the concrete floor, roughly circular in shape.

“I saw that before. What’s odd about it?”

“Whatever burned here was at a much lower temperature than the surrounding area. I’m sure this is where the fire started…”

“Hello Zack,” a voice boomed, “Are you looking this place over again?”

They turned to see a heavy set, balding man lumbering toward them through the debris.

“Keith Warner,” Zack said in an undertone. “Chief Arson Investigator. Wonder what brought him here?”

“I don’t like him,” Mandy replied, a frown on her face.

“Cap’n Cartwright asked me to look things over, Keith. See if we missed anything.”

“We’ve been over this place with a microscope, Zack. There’s nothing to be found here.”

Warner mopped his brow with a handkerchief, sweating profusely despite the mild temperature.

“I don’t think I’ve met the young lady.”

Mandy extended her hand politely, “Mandy Pearson, Zack’s cousin, from New Zealand.”

She grimaced as Warner’s sweaty palm met hers, but he was looking at her breasts and didn’t notice.

“A pleasure young lady,” he wheezed. “Did you find anything new Zack?”

“Nope, not a thing,” he replied, winking at Mandy. “We were just leaving.”

“Showing your cousin how we do our jobs, huh?”

“That’s right, see you later Keith.”

They walked to the car and drove away, Warner watching them quizzically.

“How the devil did he know we were re-investigating the factory fires,” Zack muttered. “I just spoke to the Cap’n not two hours ago.”

“That burn mark on the floor reminded me of something, I wish I could remember what,” Mandy said, brow furrowed in thought. “Are we going to look at the other fire sites?”

“Darn right. I wonder if Keith will show up there too.”

“I don’t like him,” Mandy said. “His eyes are sneaky.”

***

“Three fires, two of those odd burn marks. I’ll bet there was one at the furniture factory too, except the ceiling fell in and must have covered it.”

Mandy nodded. “I find it interesting that all the factories were manufacturing highly flammable products; plastics, furniture, canvas, very coincidental.”

Zack pushed the remnants of their fast food meal aside and opened his laptop.

“Let’s see if anyone else saw those marks.”

Mandy went to the counter for another hamburger. When she returned, Zack had finished scrolling through the reports.

“No one else saw them, yet you spotted them right away, I wonder…Hey, here’s something interesting. Guess who reported and then supervised the investigations of all three fires?”

Mandy grinned, “Keith Warner.”

“You are one smart woman. That’s some coincidence I’d say.”

She wrinkled her nose, “He smells funny.”

***

Zack dried himself from the shower, toweling his hair vigorously. He and Mandy continued to investigate the mysterious fires, but were no closer to determining how they started. Voices and music emanated from the living room, punctuated by Mandy’s infectious laugh; she delighted in watching television. Game shows were her favorites, as she liked watching the contestant’s antics.

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Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

After a series of letters guided her to build some kind of temporal cannon, Mariah finds herself elsewhen, and the world she has left behind thinks she is lost forever. The world she is in, is not a safe place to be, however.

…

“A Causal loop.” Ian determined with the help of some of the other physics team who were helping him. Mariah’s body now lay on a marble slab. Constantly radiating cold, her body was generating some type of field that kept it at nearly 200 below zero, at all times. Something was wrong, and she was caught in some form of temporal loop that could not be broken. Every once in a while, her body would flicker, as if it was being disrupted by static, but it always remained the same, frozen, a deep glowing blue colour, and unmoving.

…

Mariah felt very self-conscious walking down the streets of the University campus in just the portal suit. The silver piping which allowed for full conductivity of the energies and the thin lycra-neoprene material left very little to the imaginations of the people who she passed, and she was acutely aware that if challenged, she had no papers to identify her, so she would have to bodyslide again. Which would potentially cause a lot more issues. It was hard enough to have made the long slide from Tacoma to the Uwash campus, but she had no transportation, so she had to do something. Now, she was exhausted, but she had to find Ian.

She finally got to the Advanced Physics building, and went inside, then checked the directory. Yes, Ian Scott was still a Professor, and still taught the Applied Physics class. According to the directory, he was in class right now, but that didn’t matter, she had to talk to him today.

She stood outside the door and watched through the windows as he lectured on about different particle interactions, and she caught an error. He was talking about the Standard Model, but he only detailed ten base particles, not the twelve that she knew of. She opened the door and went into the classroom, he paused for a second to glance over at her, then he continued as she took a seat on the edge of the classroom to listen, ignoring the odd looks from other students.

Only about ten minutes later, the buzzer rang and the students gathered their notes and books, filing out as they said their goodbyes. Mariah remained sitting until the last student filtered out, then she was left looking at the Professor. He was busy cleaning the board and didn’t even notice anybody was left until she asked him, “Professor Scott, how many particles are in the Standard Model?”

“There are ten … who are you?” He said as he turned and took a proper look at the girl sitting in a chair wearing a skintight purple outfit that looked like something out of a British TV series.

“My name is Mariah Douglas. What if I was to tell you that there are actually twelve particles in the Standard Model, Sir?” She said, getting to her feet and walking over to stand in front of his desk.

He looked at her in silence, then walked over and firmly closed the door, then to her surprise he locked it, and went around closing all the windows, as she as about to speak, he put a finger to his lips to indicate silence, and finished closing the windows up.

He finished, then came to stand about two feet away. “What you speak of is treason, young lady. Confederate Physics teaches ten particles. That is in the law, and we follow the law. You are not from here.” He finished as a statement of fact, not a question.

“No, I’m not. I need your help to get me back to where I am from though.”

“Why my help? You know a lot more than I am permitted to know. Especially if you know what the true Standard Model is.” He said, looking at her keenly.

“Because, Professor. Where I am from, you helped me to build it before. I need it built here to make a bridge home.”

The Professor’s eyes went wide and he sat on the lecture stool. “You’d better start at the beginning, young Mariah. Tell me everything and then we’ll see what I can do to understand if I can even help you.”

Mariah talked almost non-stop for an hour, taking glasses of water from the Professor as she lectured him on the basics of the Dimension Cannon and how it operated. He would pause her here and there to get clarification, but overall he remained silent as she talked, just absorbing the information and collating it in his mind as he began to understand what she was explaining.

He finally stood and walked behind the desk to get his jacket and hat. “Come with me, I’ll take you back to my home and we’ll see what needs to be figured out. We’ll have to get you some other clothes though, that outfit is definitely not normal garb, even for university students.”

“You believe me then?” Mariah asked as he draped the jacket over her shoulders, and then unlocked and opened the door for her.

“I am unsure of what to believe, I am most curious though, and I enjoy a good mystery.” He replied, then taking her gently by the upper arm, they walked down the stairs to the main floor giresun escort of the physics building and then out the door where he turned her towards the parking lot.

“Professor Scott?” Came a voice, and Ian turned to see two uniformed FedSec officers walking towards them. “Go with my lead, Mariah.” he said quietly as they came up to the couple.

“How can I help you officers?” Ian asked.

“We are looking for somebody who matches the description of the young lady with you. She was spotted in Tacoma a few hours ago and caused a disturbance. We wish to ask her some questions, down at the office.” One of the officers told him.

“I don’t think this is the woman you are after. She’s been with me all day. I only just picked her up from the transit station this morning. As you can see, she’s not even properly dressed for our weather.”

“Do you have her papers, Professor?” The other officer said.

“Not with me, they are at my house. Is this interrogation really necessary, Officers? I was using her to demonstrate physics energy on the human body. I can assure you, she never left my sight all day. This chattel was not in Tacoma or anywhere else earlier today. She has been in my office, in my classroom. We really do have to go now.” He finished, and with a final nod to both officers, hustled Mariah over to his car and opened the door for her to get in.

He pulled out of the parking lot and drove slowly out of the campus, watching the two officers still standing there, conferring with each other and watching him until they were out of sight.

“I definitely got a bad vibe from those two, Professor.” Mariah said.

Ian sighed. “My dear, those were FedSec officers. Had they taken you to their facility. You’d be stripped, raped by any number of men, and interrogated until you told them everything about you, then raped some more, and finally, executed for treason, because you don’t have travel papers.”

Mariah’s eyes had gone wide. “This place is that dangerous?”

“Yes, most definitely. You have no idea what being under the rule of the Confederate states is like. It is totalitarian government. University types like myself get some more freedom of thought, but only within approved limits.” he pulled into his driveway and parked, then came round and opened her door.

“Let’s get you inside, then my girl can fix us a meal and we can see what needs to be done.” He said as he held open the door for Mariah to go into his house.

She knew this house, the layout was the same, but the fittings were different. What was on the floor by the front door also shocked her. The naked woman kneeling, waiting for Ian to get home was cafe-au-lait skinned, fine scars and marks of the lash all over her, from the roots of her deep brown hair right down to the palms of her hands. They were old scars though, nothing recent. Her face, always expressive, showed happiness and laughter, even as it was submissive.

“Welcome home, Master, and miss.” She said, then gracefully rose to take Ian’s jacket and hat which she hung for him as he slipped out of his shoes. He leaned over and kissed her cheek.

“We have a house guest, Trisha, please set another place at the table and brew some fresh coffee. This is going to be a long night.” He told her, then guided Mariah into the living room and sat down in his leather chair as she took a seat on the couch.

“This looks familiar, and yet is so different.” Mariah finally muttered.

“You have been in my house, in your world?” He asked.

Mariah smiled softly. “In my world, Professor, we are lovers. I have shared your bed on many occasions. This had become my second home, before.”

“Before?” Ian prompted.

“Before everything went to hell, Professor. As I told you, I began to get letters. Letters which were sent to me from me, but postmarked twelve years in the past. They gave me the knowledge required to build the cannon. We built it, back in my world. I stepped through the portal, and was outside my house, in Tacoma. But it was today, not twelve years in my past. I slipped sideways.” Mariah explained, looking at his face for any change in expression.

Trisha came into the room with a tray and set it on the table, then proceeded to pour them both a cup of coffee. Once she had served them, she went to leave but was stopped by Ian’s hand on her hip. “Trisha, sit with us.”

“Yes, Master.” she replied and sat on the couch beside Mariah but not really close to her.

“This is Mariah. She will be staying with us for some time, I am not sure how long, but she must be kept safe, just as you are safe.” Trisha nodded, and smiled at Mariah. “He is a good man, he took care of me after my old owner lost custody for doing this to me. Professor Scott healed me and has kept me from harm for eight years now.”

A buzz from the kitchen made Trisha look up. “Dinner is ready, Master. Do you wish to eat at the table?”

“By all means. Come, Mariah. You must be famished.” yalova escort Ian said and gently guiding her, the three walked to the table where they sat and enjoyed a meal of pot roast, mashed potatoes and fresh corn.

“Being my property, Trisha has learned a great deal about physics as well, Mariah. Feel free to give her your insight as she has a different way of looking at things than I do. She has helped me greatly in the eight years I have known her company.” Ian explained as he finished his plate.

Mariah nodded and finished her plate as well, it had been her second helping, and although she felt full, she still also felt hungry. Trisha rose and gathered the plates off the table, then put them in the sink and turned on the water to wash the dishes.

“Are you always naked?” Mariah asked her.

Trisha laughed. “It is the way Master likes me. I certainly don’t mind, he is a good man, miss. The best I have known.”

“But you have scars, all over you.” Mariah said, a finger gently tracing the line of one that wrapped from Trisha’s left hip up her back.

“Not from Ian. No, he bought my writ at a rescue auction eight years ago. My former owner liked to cause pain, a lot of pain. I still have nightmares of the pain he would put me through. Ian got me after he was finally reported when I was delivered to a hospital to recover from a broken arm and broken ribs. It is against the law to do this type of damage, but it has to be reported. I was put up on a list of girls needing to be rescued and cared for, so the list of eligible owners was very select. Ian chose me, and he took very good care of me. He nursed me back to health, and I have since nursed him.” Trisha explained with a smile.

Ian had gotten up and put his arms around the curvy Haitian woman who he owned and cared for very much, then he kissed her on the top of her head as they both looked at Mariah.

“We will need to find her some clothes, can you take care of her and get her measured up so we can get some clothing organized?” Ian finally said.

“Of course, Master. Where will she sleep? The spare bedroom, or with you?” Trisha asked.

“I think that would be up to Mariah now, Trisha, stop being so bold or I’ll have to spank you.” Ian said gruffly, but with real affection in his voice, Mariah could tell. Trisha giggled and nodded.

“Come on, Mariah – we’ve got some comfortable robes and sleep wear, once I’ve got your measure I can order some proper clothing for you.” Trisha said, rising to her feet and holding out her hand. Mariah placed her hand in Trisha’s and let the other woman lead her off into the back of the house where the bedrooms and bathroom was.

She was exhausted, emotionally and mentally. Her body seemed to ache as well, but she was not sure if that was a physical ache or just more mental exhaustion.

She allowed Trisha to unfasten and peel the bodysuit off her and stood there while the other woman quickly took her body measurements. Then she was hustled into the bathroom and Trisha had her lie down in a tub already full of sudsy water. Then to Mariah’s surprise, Trisha slipped into the water as well and expertly washed her, paying additional attention to her breasts and pussy.

She lay back as Trisha’s soft slippery hands ran a cloth all over her, cleaning the sweat and body oils off of her, and before she really realized, she was getting quite turned on by the attention, especially when Trisha’s fingers found her clit and began to rub and massage it.

Mariah writhed as Trisha’s fingers danced a tattoo upon her mons, rubbing, flicking and massaging her clit and lips as her body responded the way it always used to when her Trisha would do much the same thing.

As Mariah began to gasp, she felt Trisha’s lips upon her own, muffling her cries as her body bucked and she came, pressing her mons against Trisha’s hand as her body quavered through a rolling orgasm.

“There now, now you’ll sleep much better.” Trisha said with a smile as she finished rinsing Mariah off, then helped her out of the bath and towelled her dry, keeping one hand on the other woman who was now quite unsteady.

She wrapped Mariah in a soft robe, then escorted her into the spare bedroom where Mariah gratefully crawled into the bed and was asleep quite quickly.

Trisha finished drying herself, then walked back to the main room where her Master sat, now smoking a pipe and reading his daily letters.

“Our guest settled?” He asked without looking up.

“Yes, Master, How do you want me?” She replied.

Ian smiled at her and lifted his arms to reveal he had already slipped out of his pants. “Make me a happy man, my Trisha.” He said quietly.

She smiled and sunk to her knees, leaning forward, she began to give him oral attention as he continued to read, enjoying her attentions on his erect shaft as he reviewed the letters. Trisha bobbed her head up and down on his shaft, licking around the head and sensitive underside, tickling the yozgat escort opening of his cock with the tip of her tongue and licking the length of his shaft as she sucked him expertly.

He finally finished reading, and put one hand on the back of her head, pulling her closer so she allowed the head of his cock to slip down into her throat, and Trisha focused on swallowing action to give him the sensations he wanted. She could feel him begin to stiffen so pulled back slightly and used her tongue on the sensitive underside of his cock, and as Ian grunted and shot sperm into her mouth, Trisha lapped it up and sucked on him to bring him to a very satisfying orgasm.

He released her head as she licked and kissed his softening cock to clean it up thoroughly, then she sat back on her haunches and waited for further instructions.

“I think you best prepare for bed, Trisha. I will be using you quite a lot tonight.” He said quietly.

“Yes, Master.” She replied, and rising, kissed him on his cheek, then walked out of the room and into the main bedroom where she turned down the sheets and got things ready for what would be one of his longer sessions with her willing body.

Ian did not disappoint her. Trisha was thoroughly fucked that evening. Ian’s hard cock drilling deep into her pussy from many different positions, and he was expert at bringing her to orgasm as well, which was what had enamoured her to her Master in the first place. Ian cared about her.

Even as he gasped and moaned on top of her, his cock deep inside her wet slot, Ian continued to massage and kiss her breasts and nipples, nuzzle her neck and behind her ears, and kiss her lips which were hungry with need for his affections.

He rolled her over and pulled her up so she was on her knees and proceeded to slam into her with a force that belied his gentle nature. In bed, Ian was a strong man, his iron hard cock plunged Trisha’s depths regularly, and he was always focused on making sure she enjoyed it as much as possible. She had felt a lot of pain in her life, until she had been bought by Ian. He was determined that she not feel any more pain again, and he made that his goal when he had purchased her writ so long ago.

He finally rolled her onto her side, and she helped him to slip out of her pussy and then with a gasp, more for his benefit, his cock slipped into her tight ass. She knew to bear down and tighten her ring of muscles to give him more intense sensations, and as with everything she did, she was thoroughly cleaned by enema before he had even come home. Trisha knew how to keep her Master happy, and with his cock buried deep into her anus, she knew he wasn’t going anywhere, except to fill her with his cum.

After the long fucking he had already given her, it did not take long before her tight ass brought him off to unload his seed into her bowels as he gasped out, holding her in his arms, hands gripping her breasts tightly enough to leave bruises while she pressed back against him to give him the full benefit of the deep ass fuck he had just finished.

He finally rolled slightly and his long softening cock slipped out of her while he lay on his back, almost asleep already. Trisha gently got to her feet and with a washcloth and bowl, cleaned his emission that was leaking from her bottom, then gently cleaned his cock until it was all good, before suckling it to give him a last good feeling before she went into the bathroom to properly clean herself.

Trisha came back to the bed a few minutes later and cuddled up to her Master, who although he was asleep, still held her tightly to him so she could feel the strength and comfort of the good man who owned her.

…

“Time Travel was a myth, until this young lady determined how to make it work, by using a blend of Cerenkov radiation and high energy particles sent through a matrix of microwave energy.” Doctor Ian Scott explained to the class. On the screen was a picture of his Mariah, in happier times, laughing as she had her picture taken in front of the first portal. So very long ago, he sighed and continued.

“Seven years ago, Mariah Douglas determined how to devise a method of capturing what we now call the Cerenkov flash, a burst of radiation that includes temporal wavicles. The first crude portal was able to generate a doorway six feet high and about two feet wide. Enough for somebody to step through. Where they would go, we had no idea, only Mariah did.”

…

Dressed in much more conservative clothing, with Trisha beside her, Mariah went with Ian back to the University. They did not go to the Applied Physics building, but to one of the many warehouses that were on the Uwash grounds. Mariah recognized it as the same building, where in her reality, the Cannon had been built.

Ian opened the doors and they walked into the cavernous building, which had various experiments set up, mostly disused and dusty. Some looking clean and fresh, but nothing looking like it was actually in use.

Mariah walked into the building and up to a seemingly random spot on the floor. “Here, this is where we have to build it. Do you have tape?” She asked. Trisha handed her a roll of masking tape. Mariah knelt and began to tape a layout on the floor, a circular ring, then another ring around that, and cross bars. Three rolls of tape later the basic floor design was complete.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Editor’s note: this story contains scenes of non-consensual or reluctant sex.

*****

PROFESSOR Eneccor

Exobiology Lab,

Semut University, Untull City, Gork Prime

(Translated to English from Gorkian)

Eneccor had been the top science professor at the university for exobiology for nearly 10 solar cycles. He knew that the rampant disease would stop all reproduction, and eventually cause extinction of the whole of the Gork race. At the King’s insistence he had sent his students across the galaxy to find the one bipedal intelligent creature that might be able, to not only take eggs, abut also handle the insemination process. They would have to carry a fetus to term, so size of the alien would be an issue. They would also have to have a very inefficient digestive system as to feed the Gork child blocking their colon.

Intelligence was the key, as all newborn Gorks bond instantly with their birth parent. Only an intelligent life form would have the instincts to raise an alien child born from their body.

Eneccor also knew that the diet of a fetus had to be just perfect in the alien host, as it grew in their bowels. Gork fetuses needed the rich diet only found in large intestine, of the third gender, the Nanny gender.

The neighboring race nearby on Hanbiss, had called the Gorks “shit eaters” and had started many wars, trying to keep the system for themselves. The Hanbiss people, and others were less then friendly to the Gork in any place of trade.

The Gork only fed from the colon during the incubation of the fetus. Once born, the children ate just like any other race. Cooked meat, grains, and leafy plant matter. Yet, because the young were born from a colon, the race will always have the moniker of “shit eater”.

To other races, most Gork look like they are all males. But that is not the case. Even though females and males have a penis, the females eject an egg into the host, and the male then fertilizes the egg inside the host, or the 3rd gender, the smaller penis having, “Nanny” gender.

The pandemic disease was killing the nanny gender widely around the world. Only the nannies had the colon, and rich nutrients to carry a Gork child to term.

Professor Eneccor received a transmission.

“Blue, water covered planet, 5 billion intelligent life. Harvesting 10 males of the species.” The student reported.

“What is the size of the race?” Eneccor asked.

“Smaller then us, by almost half.”

“Grab them anyway, run tests to see what quality their diet is!” Eneccor ordered.

DEREK

My back was killing me from the move. Luke had asked that I help him move from central Phoenix to the ranch he had bought outside of Flagstaff. I agreed to help with the driving, but thought I had I had made it clear that I couldn’t do a lot of heavy lifting, as my knee was dicey. I ended up favoring my knee while helping, putting extra pressure on my back muscles.

I was too tired to drive back to Phoenix.

I decided to find a cheap motel on the outskirts. As I hit the county highway that would lead me to the interstate something blinded me. A brilliant white light completely engulfed my truck…

When I woke, my 32 year old body felt like I had been run over by my own truck…twice. Every part of my body hurt. I felt nauseous, and realized I was cold. My eyes opened and my hands rubbed the sore parts of my body. My legs, arms, gut and neck had long scabs, as if I had been cut days ago.

My asshole was throbbing, and my guts were sore, as if I had been punched in the stomach repeatedly. I had no bruises on my midsection.

“Hey you awake over there?” I heard. A voice with a upper Midwestern accent. Wisconsin, maybe Minnesota.

“Yeah…where are we? The air smells weird.” I asked.

“No idea. I can’t see anything. Any light near you?” The man asked.

“No, pitch black. I can barely move, my whole body hurts.” I commented.

“Yeah, feel like I just had surgery…” The man commented, then, “…Like diesel and lilacs mixed.” He was commenting about the smell in the air.

Our voices had to be raised to hear each other. So when he touched my foot and I recoiled, we knew something else was odd about the place we were in. We figured out slowly that we were in a small closed room, and the reason we couldn’t move was because we both felt very heavy compared to normal.

“Milwaukee, I’m Bobby, good to meet you.” The Wisconsinite said.

“Phoenix, I’m Derek. Wish we had met in different circumstances.” I said.

“Are you naked?” Bobby asked.

“Yeah so don’t go roaming hands in my direction.” I weakly chuckled.

“Me too. I won’t.”

“I have like, three day old scars all over my body. You?” I asked.

“Yeah scabs, they are itchy, so I would say more like mine are a week old, but I don’t remember getting the wounds.” Bobby recalled.

“Do you remember how we got here?” I asked, just as a beam of bright light hit our bodies, blinding me. The light stayed on and was still erzurum escort blinding me though I had my hands over my eyes. When it was turned off, all became black again, and

a few seconds later I felt lighter. I could sit up.

My eyes felt snow blind as I tried to recover from the luminous assault.

“Hey Bobby?” I reached out for him in the blackness. “Bobby?” I walked around the entire room, feeling normal for the first time since my arrival to the room.

Bobby was no longer in the room.

I began feeling for seams in the smooth walls indicating a door of some kind. After 4 slow passes around the square room I could find none.

“BOBBY!!”

PROF ENECCOR

While the animals spoke to each other in the holding cell, I set out translation computer loose on them. These beings had a very high vocal vocabulary, compared to our race. They were also quite resilient. I had tried to infect the first 4 with the crippling “Nanny Virus”, and thankfully, they had all been immune.

The most vocal were number 5 and number 6. These two “males” were seen to have submissive personalities according to my interns and students. So I performed the necessary surgeries on these two first. Human 5 was implanted via injection. Human 6 had been bred properly.

Human 6 had bled from his rectum during the breeding process. Their breeding hole is quite small and tight. Human 6 had torn flesh while our female implanted the eggs, and then when the male tried to inseminate the eggs a day later, the human had to be repaired extensively.

Both of the Gork test subjects begged me to sell this alien to them, as it was very sexually alluring, and was very tight at the point of breeding hole. I had to reassure them, that if the test worked they could own thousands of human males, for pleasure and breeding.

That reassurance seemed to be enough.

I went to the science lab on board, and saw a living female human being dissected. These creatures can create a lot of noise when alarmed or in pain. When I got through the door, the sound overwhelmed my ears instantly.

“Xumnt kuquit unrerequint lank?” I asked frustrated. The interns disgusted me with his lack of professionalism!

“Sorry professor, We were allowed this prisoner and thought we might test it’s pain tolerance.” The taller one seethed.

“Professor, we think the females of their race will not be able to handle the hormones injected during breeding.” The shorter intern informed me.

“Oh?” I asked.

“Seems that our semen causes changes in their females that causes them to die before they can carry to term.” The intern said and handed me a chart.

“85% death rate upon the second stage of growth in the colon.” I read out loud.

“Yes Sir, it is frustrating, as their females are actually built to carry large offspring!” He informed.

“How big are their offspring at birth?” I asked as I read the reports from the human female testing.

“About 6.75% of the mothers weight.” The intern read off of his report.

“What would be the comparison, of an adult male human with a Gork child?” I asked.

“Professor, it is nearly 10% of a healthy humans body weight. They are just too small. I’m not sure this is the race to enslave as Nannies!” The intern pleaded.

“Noted, and you are dismissed from the campus. Pack your belongings and leave the campus.” I said quietly, yet sternly.

“But Professor!” He yelled.

“Security!” I responded louder than his voice.

The tall intern watched as the other was dragged out of the lab.

“They are immune to the virus, we have to try to see if a live birth is possible.” I said, looking over older reports on this human race from when they had discovered agriculture. I shook my head. They should have been enslaved as a whole before they developed nuclear weapons.

“Bring me human number 6.” I ordered.

DEREK GOLDSMITH

I felt much lighter. I realized I was hungry and thirsty. I called out to anyone. Bobby had disappeared with only a slight sound. I was being held captive and naked. It was clear that SOMETHING had been done to my entire body. The wounds were all over me from being cut.

I needed to shit..badly. Seriously. I had something in me that was making me need to fart, or shit, but no matter how I moved, the air or solid would not escape. It was getting annoying, and frankly, quite painful. I was fairly certain I was constipated. I felt slightly high, however.

When I woke the next day, there was a bowl full of liquid, and a bowl of something that looked like butterscotch pudding. I was very thirsty. I grabbed the bowl of liquid and drank all of it down. It had a strange after taste.

I woke with a raging hard on that only seemed to get stiffer after I had drank from the bowl. I wondered if I had been drugged.

I decided I was too hungry, no matter what might be mixed into my food and water. The dark yellow mass in the second eskişehir escort bowl smelled of barbecue pork but had the texture of squash. Slimy and mushy. It was like eating wet bread. I was too hungry to complain, and I was not sure how long I had been in this box, let alone when I would be fed next.

I was singing “People are Strange” by the Doors, when I felt my body get grabbed and lifted. I had never heard them coming for me. What I realized after I was cuffed and thrown over something..someones shoulder? This being was nearly 7 foot tall. His skin was very warm to me.

I was carried quite a while, down corridors and through sliding doors. I was taken to what looked like a surgical room and set, face down on a cold metal table. My hips were elevated so my ass hung high in the air. I thought maybe the creatures were going to cure the pain and discomfort I was feeling deep in my bowels.

The one that carried me left and a slightly smaller being bent down and placed something in my ears. He began to speak and I understood him.

“I am your doctor, a fertility doctor. That pain in your abdomen is a Gank child. It will grow in your colon until it is ready to be born from your rectum. This will take about 8 of your weeks, as it feeds from your digestive system. After the child is born, you will be bred again. Our kind has lost our third sex to disease, and you human males will take the place of our nanny gender.” He stated coldly.

“I don’t want this, take it out!” I shouted from my locked down head. I could finally see this naked being. It’s light blue skin was tight against muscles that looked much like my own. It had a large penis that swung freely and what looked to be small testicles on either side of the penis. These were encased separately, unlike a humans. For some reason, the sight of it made my mouth water.

“I will be clear, You are a slave. You have no choice, nor will any other of your race. Upon several successful births, our warships will re visit your planet and harvest millions of your kind, and a half million females to produce more male slaves for our couples. Upon marriage each will receive a human male to carry their children.

Your females become ill and die upon being bred, so your males are the most important.” He explained. A screen appeared in mid air and it began to show pictures of the Gank biology.

“Our females have penises slightly larger then yours, that over the course of 30 or so of your minutes, delivers a single egg which attaches it self via membranes to the walls of a colon. Within 48 hours the male must then penetrate the nanny with it’s larger penis and in the course of an hour or so of copulation, delivers it’s semen to inseminate the egg.”

The screen changed as I felt something go into my ass. It went quite deep, and I could see a camera chronicling it’s progress as it came to a wall that blocked and had stretched my colon.

“Upon insemination, the egg quadruples in size to block the colon of the nanny, to capture the food it needs to grow. As the fetus grows, the nanny will need to increase it’s intake of food. When it reaches about 15 pounds it will begin to use its hands and feet to emerge from the rectum. As it moves down the colon it must stretch each section of colon to proceed. This can take up to a day.”

The video changed to a Gork nanny giving birth. The nanny had no penis, only an anus. It must have pissed and shit from this hole. I realized I hadn’t had an urge to pee since I had been here.

“Soon a hand will penetrate the rectum, then the second hand. It will stretch out the rectum begin to pull itself out from the nanny. Pushing out the head and shoulders needs the help from the nanny. Gork nannies experience incredible pain and pleasure during this. It is guessed that you and the rest of nanny slaves will experience more pleasure then pain, as you have a gland in the place where the child will be pushing against the colon for traction. I believe you call it a prostate.”

I was horrified, scared and crying. I didn’t want to be a slave, let alone one that was used for breeding. My cock was disagreed with my emotions. Yet he wasn’t done speaking. Something akin to Gork porn was now on the screen.

“The nanny race is used for pleasure to the other two sexes with the female using the throat of the nanny to achieve orgasm planting an egg into the stomach of the nanny, while the male is in the anus and colon of the nanny. It is hoped that they reach orgasm together. This normally takes about an hour. With simultaneous orgasm, a romantic feeling is transmitted to the nanny via hormones. This also causes the nanny to orgasm via it’s lubrication glands, which have been introduced into your breeding hole, by emptying all four glands at once. Your species may also express semen from your limp tiny penis.” He seemed to laugh at this.

I was curious about the orgasm I would have as a sex and breeding slave. Through gaziantep escort my fear, and yes, even tears I could only manage one question.

“Why?” I asked. His facial expressions seemed nearly human as it looked as he was frustrated and confused at the same time.

“Your kind has the right type of food source for our developing children! Your bodies are very inefficient compared to ours. Humans do not absorb but 50% of the nutrition from the food you eat! The rest is WASTED!” My captor barked. He paused and collected himself.

“Your kind is very talkative, and inquisitive. It is annoying. You are a slave. You need to be silent.”

“Good luck blue giant, you will find out that my race does not enjoy slavery.” I stated. Yet I was getting turned on by it. The pain in my lower abdomen began to back off after watching the Gork porn. My ass seemed to be leaking lubrication.

“Yes yes, your kind has this nasty free will. I am working on that. Soon I will have a medicine to clear your small brain of all of that clutter. You will want to be a nanny!” The doctor had an expression on his face, I would almost call a smile. His mouth was much smaller for his head size, so I took the twitch the edges gave, as a smile.

“For this week though, you will sleep. When you wake maybe I will have fixed these problems slave.” He said as he grabbed something with his hand and placed it on my neck.

I began a dream, from my past.

I was sitting at Colby’s Cocktails at my usual stool. Classic Iron Maiden was playing on the jukebox. Tammy was pretty smashed, and had her head down on the bar. Her sister, Kelly, had come from Arizona to visit and was trying to help me get her out of the bar.

We got her outside and I looked for the cab the bouncer had called for us. It hadn’t yet arrived.

I felt my chin get pulled to Kelly’s face and she kissed me.

“I jus’ wanted to know what I was miss…burp…missing out on, We should…uh…” She looked down at her sister, my fiancee, and when seeing that she was nearly passed out, finished her thought.

“We should fuck.” Kelly proposed. I rolled my eyes.

The last thing I should do ever is fuck the hotter sister of my fiancee.

She kissed me again this time grabbing my cock, and shoving her tongue in my mouth. I didn’t resist.

I must have been drunk as I don’t remember getting into the cab, nor how I was naked in my fiancee’s bed with Kelly. I could hear her yell as the glass broke across my head. Tammy had hit me with something heavy made of glass. My head was in blinding pain!

I woke up in the dark. Something was down my throat. It was warm here. I couldn’t talk. I couldn’t move. I was on my front side, Laid down so my arms hung chained, my ass was in the air, and my legs were spread wide and locked into place.

Was I dreaming of home? I never fucked Kelly! Hell we had never been to a bar together.

It had been a dream.

I heard a hiss then a “glug”. I could feel something being pushed into my esophagus. I was on a feeding tube. From the burps that escaped I could taste that barbecue pork flavor.

The pain inside my colon was different. It wasn’t quite pain anymore, it was warmth. I could feel the heartbeat of the alien inside of me. I could feel it moving inside my colon.

“I’m going to be a mother.” I thought. I felt pride and love for the life inside of me even if it was not my species.

“How long had I been asleep? Is this too a dream? Did Tammy bash me with a wine bottle and that is why I’m dreaming I’m a breeder for an alien race?” My mind asked.

GLUG HISS

Belch.

No this is real.

The lights came on. I hadn’t been moved from where I had been before I had fallen asleep. The doctor noticed my eyes blinking to handle the sudden bright light.

“Oh! It is awake. Welcome back! Your baby is almost ready! We are going to get you ready to give birth. Sorry I put you to sleep for the entire pregnancy, but I didn’t want you to hurt the child.” He said as he stuck a long finger up my ass.

“Yes, yes. Your baby is already climbing out. His fingers grabbed mine! This is good news. I am going to be very rich thanks to you slave. Now lets take the painkillers off so you can experience child birth shall we?” He said with what I can only describe, as gleefulness.

Instantly, I was in earth shattering pain. My whole lower body screamed in agony. I tried to breathe like I had seen my sister do while she gave birth. This didn’t help. The body of the Gank child that was moving out of my colon was the weight of a bowling ball. It’s head was the size of a softball.

“Now slave it is time to help the child. Push it out of your incubation chamber.” He instructed.

I could feel one hand leave my rectum, and then grab on to the muscular ring. It pulled it self out slightly. I began to push. I wanted to see my child as soon as possible. I could feel the other hand leave my body. It grabbed my rectum and pulled it wide ripping the flesh.

The pain was exquisite at my rectum, but as the aliens feet gripped for traction, It was stepping on my prostate. I came hard and pushed harder.

Now the pain was subsiding, as I felt it’s head leave my passage. Soon the shoulders were out and then I shit out the rest of him into life. I heard a weird alien cry as I passed out from exhaustion.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Author’s Notes:

Walking An Endless Path: Part 3 is the epic conclusion of the prequel trilogy for the Jack Danner Universe. Think hundreds of years before Jack finds his way into the Altarian Trade Commission waiting room.

But without this, he’d never get the chance.

-=-

This trilogy is dedicated to my brilliant and beautiful wife, whose support of my passion for writing and drive to keep me healthy keeps me balanced, productive, and happy.

I love you, lady!

********

Walking An Endless Path: Part 3

********

Chapter 1

Joe was dying.

He’d been captive of the Greenies, as he’d come to call them, for roughly three weeks, and they were slowly starving him to death.

The injuries he’d sustained from falling from the sky at home slowly healed, but his energy levels were dropping due to insufficient food, and his body wasn’t coping well.

The mad rush the aliens had been in when they stole him from his protectors back home hadn’t ended when they pulled his unconscious body through the portal in Russia. After he awoke on the other side, they immediately set a brutal pace and traveled overland to reach another location where another portal was promptly opened and entered.

Most of the time, the land on the other side of the portal looked identical or at least similar, though the time of day and the temperature often changed. At first, he thought that maybe they were just moving from place to place on the same world, but then he began to notice that he felt lighter or heavier after passing through some.

Once, they stepped through a portal, and the Greenies crashed to their knees as the gravity was much higher. The pressure was hard on Joe’s injuries, and they’d barely made it back through before he passed out. There had been much angry warbling between the Greenies after that event. When Joe finally realized these portals were taking them between worlds, he was grateful that the air was breathable on each.

The Greenies had two more Tik with them, but they weren’t familiar to Joe and always stayed near the front of the group. As he and his three Tik were always at the back of the group, he had yet to see how his captors triggered the portals or set their destinations. He was thoroughly discouraged that he would ever see home again.

The green-skinned aliens either hadn’t noticed that Joe still had his cell phone, or they didn’t care. Joe couldn’t call anyone, but he could look at the few pictures he’d taken of his home. He was careful not to take it out of his pocket when they were paying attention to him, which wasn’t often. For all the effort they’d made in kidnapping him, they’d shown no interest in speaking with him or even looking at him.

The three cylindrical hovering mechanisms he’d named Stinky, Hack, and Slash were his faithful companions throughout the journey. The latter two bore Joe’s damaged body in a rough hammock they made between them with the prehensile metallic cables they used as arms. Stinky tracked Joe’s physical condition by scanning him with a green light, making him nauseous. When he grew too weak, Stinky would signal the group had to stop for a break. Food and water would be provisioned at these times. The Greenies loved the rations, but Joe found them flavorless and unsatisfying. He grew weaker by the day.

The Greenies avoided direct sunlight due to their wet skins and took opportunities to dunk themselves in any bodies of water they came across. This avoidance of the sun prevented Joe from absorbing direct sunlight, which he’d found energizing in the past.

Joe was always hungry and had taken to foraging whenever they would stop for any period of time. He was set down within arm’s reach of some berries once and managed to clear the area within his reach. It wasn’t a lot of extra food, but it definitely picked up his energy, and the Greenies made more progress that day. Joe tried to get them to understand the benefit of feeding him, but they refused to pay any attention to him other than to direct the machines to bring him along.

On a subsequent world, Joe was delighted to find some nuts, but Stinky slapped them away painfully before he could eat one. Joe hated the machine very deeply at that moment. On the next world, he found some more nuts but wasn’t prevented from eating them. This made Joe wonder if the previous nuts had been poisonous. To this point, Stinky’s role had been to keep Joe healthy. He supposed eating toxic nuts was contrary to that set of instructions. Joe watched the machine from that point on when he foraged and waited for the telltale signs of getting a smack from the unit. This augmentation of his diet slowed his weakening somewhat, but Joe needed some substantial food soon, or he’d lose consciousness permanently. His frustration at being unable to communicate with the Greenies grew daily.

They had been traveling for roughly a month when they stepped through a portal from grassland into tekirdağ escort a deep jungle. The two lead Tik were sent off with a gesture from the lead Greenie. They flew straight up and disappeared. The jungle was so overgrown Hack and Slash had to put Joe down on the ground and use their cable arms to cut through the vegetation to make a path to a nearby beach.

While Joe rested on the ground, he spotted a large plant that looked like a mushroom. With a shaky arm, he reached over and carefully broke it from the ground. He lifted it up towards his face, his hand trembling with fatigue, and watched for Stinky’s response. The metal coil shot out of its compartment and snatched the mushroom cap away. Joe was left with the meaty stem in his hand, but he wasn’t sure if he should eat it. Maybe Stinky just missed grabbing the whole thing away. At least it had stopped slapping him. Joe’s fingers weakened, and the stem dropped. Stinky caught it in its coil and slowly lifted it to Joe’s mouth. Joe bit into the fleshy plant. He almost cried with joy as the rich flavor of freshly baked bread exploded over his tongue. The coil delicately pressed the remaining chunk into Joe’s mouth. His mind flashed to a memory of the delicate fingers of Safa Neema. The Forensic Pathologist had fed him pieces of bread by hand when he flew to Washington, DC, after he’d been shot. Tears came to his eyes as he remembered that kindness. He chewed slowly and swallowed the delicious food. When he looked back, Stinky had prepared a second one. Joe opened his mouth, and the coils dropped the entire thing inside. Joe did his best to chew and swallow the large mouthful. He looked over at the machine in wonder. It had never fed him before, and he wasn’t clear on why it was now. Maybe his condition had reached some critical low?

Some of the Greenies were quite excited and ran down the path the machines had cut. The others screeched at them but gave up when they were out of view. Hack and Slash returned and scooped Joe up in their coils. When the group stepped out onto the sand of a beach, Joe was dazzled by the bright sunlight. He realized they were out in the open, and the Greenies actually looked relaxed for the first time.

The beach faced an enormous expanse of water that splashed over a series of tidal pools when it reached the shore. Joe saw the earlier group of Greenies diving into the water. He didn’t see them resurface. The group he was following was heading in the same direction. Joe started to feel a sense of dread. If they were taking him under the water, he would drown. He tried telling them that, and his voice grew louder and more panicked the closer they got to the water. As they moved over the water, Joe felt his body locking up to prepare for immersion. He had no idea why he couldn’t tolerate getting into a body of water since he had no issues with showers, but his body went into total shock when submerged.

He’d fallen in a lake a few years back and nearly drowned. He felt the panic set in.

Stinky scanned him and chirped. The three machines stopped and backed up to the dry sand. Joe was hyperventilating but started to calm down when they reached the shore. The lead Greenie turned and started to warble loudly at the machine. Stinky simply chirped again. The other Greenies kept walking, and soon, they were all below the water. The leader screeched at the machines, but they remained where they were. With what sounded like a frustrated gasp, the Greenie warbled something at the machines, then turned and dove beneath the waters.

Stinky chirped at the other two, and they carried Joe up the beach and set him down on the hot sand close to the spot where they’d exited the jungle. The heat felt wonderful on Joe’s skin, and he basked in the sunlight. He was still hungry, but this was a major improvement. His sentries took positions around him, and Stinky took one more scan before chirping to the others. Joe swore it sounded satisfied.

Joe rested there on the sand, waiting for the Greenies to reappear. He waited for hours and watched the sun set. Aside from the ridiculously enormous moon hanging in the sky, it reminded him of the sunsets he’d watched back in Santa Monica, which made him think of his sister, and the tears came. God, he missed his family! This was the longest he’d ever been apart from them.

Finally, he fell asleep.

Morning came, and Joe was still on the beach. The sun returned to the sky, and Joe felt it rejuvenating his body. He was so hungry. He gestured to Stinky, making eating motions, and was surprised when it actually moved off into the jungle. It was the first time he’d successfully communicated with anything since he’d been abducted.

A few minutes later, Stinky returned with six mushroom stems, a short, slim stick, and a large yellow orb that made a sloshing sound. Joe put his hands together like a bowl, and Stinky dropped the stems into them. tokat escort Joe immediately began eating and, in a few minutes, had eaten his largest meal in weeks. Stinky punched a hole in the yellow orb with the point of his coil, then passed it into Joe’s hands. He took a sip of the liquid inside and was surprised by its sweetness. Just the mildest flavor of melon but almost overpoweringly sweet. Joe drank until the orb was empty. Next, Stinky handed him the stick. He assumed that he was expected to chew on it. He managed two bites on it when it burst open and oozed into his mouth. Joe gagged on the awful flavor and texture. He spat the contents of his mouth out onto the sand and saw movement. The stick was filled with some kind of insect larvae, and he’d just got a mouthful. He continued to spit until he was sure he’d gotten it all out. Joe threw the stick away and glared at Stinky. “No bugs!” he growled. He felt queasy, so he rested back against the sand, which was already growing hot.

Aside from the stick, the meal was excellent, and he felt almost full. He rested and waited for the Greenies to return.

As the sun set, Joe wondered what the hell he’d been abducted for. The sunset colors were spectacular, so he took a few pictures. He wondered how much money he’d get for them back home. Not that anyone would believe they were taken on an alien planet. He flipped the phone over and tried to take a selfie like his friend Craig had suggested. He smiled when he saw his face lit up with the day’s last rays and Stinky floating behind him.

He was feeling much better. He was still hungry, but the sun and the heat soaking into his body did wonders for him. He nodded off, guarded by his sentries.

The next morning, Joe tried sitting up. It was excruciating, but he finally managed to get onto his butt. Stinky scanned and chirped at him, but he ignored it until a coil wrapped around him and gently forced him back down. Next came breakfast: three mushroom stems, another yellow orb, a stick he quickly tossed aside, and three bumpy fruits that tasted like chicken. Weird but filling.

The tide had gone out, and Joe watched the tidal pools. His mouth watered at the idea of seafood. It was the protein he was after. What he really wanted was a big steak. After being injured, he found that eating high-protein meals assisted his healing process the most.

Joe heard splashing and saw what looked like a fin thrashing around in a shallow pool. He pointed at the fish and made the eating gestures, but Stinky was back to ignoring him.

The pattern of recuperating on the beach continued for a week. Joe was going out of his mind with boredom, and his three sentries sucked at playing I, Spy. By the end of the week, Joe was able and allowed to sit upright. He looked back at the jungle and wondered if there would be any way for him to make a spear for fishing. The damn tidal pool teased him with a protein buffet every day, and Stinky continued ignoring his gestures to get the fish!

Joe worked on getting his body back into some kind of condition. Initially, that meant some reclining exercises until Stinky would interfere. Push-ups, sit-ups, crunches, and he worked up from there. By the end of the second week on the beach, Joe was allowed to walk along the water’s edge with the machines. He’d hold the coils of Hack and Slash like he was holding their hands, which he was, and wobble down to the water’s edge and walk back and forth, looking into the tidal pools. Initially, he’d barely make it back before sinking exhausted to the sand to rest.

He needed those damn fish.

After a few more days of this, he walked into the jungle with his mechanical companions and looked for a sapling from which he would make a fishing spear. He found a likely candidate and showed Hack what he needed it to do. He mimed the cutting he’d seen the machines do when they arrived, and soon, he had a long, straight stick. He used it as a walking stick to make his way back out to the sand.

On the way back, he found a sharp rock on the side of the trail and picked it up. By the time he returned to his usual place on the beach, he was seeing spots. He sat on the sand, collapsed onto his back, and promptly passed out.

When he awoke, Stinky had brought him some mushroom stems and one of the yellow orbs. He ate and drank, and as the sun had just about set, he rested his eyes and allowed sleep to take him.

The next day, he worked on his fishing spear and carved a rudimentary barbed point at one end with his sharp rock. The following day, he had Hack and Slash walk him down to the tidal pool. He wrapped their coils around his waist until they got the idea and held him in place. He leaned out over one of the pools and watched for any sign of one of the fish he’d seen the previous day. He held the spear point above the water’s surface and kept as still as possible. After a few minutes, he trabzon escort heard the telltale splashing of the fish struggling from one tidal pool to another. The sound got closer, and then he saw it. Black with white streaks down its sides, a wide scoop of a mouth, and fairly thick in the middle. Joe prayed it was edible. It squirmed into the tidal pool next to the one he was in and sifted through the sand before turning away and heading back out to sea. Joe’s hand shot forward, and the spear’s point glanced off the fish’s slippery flank but pierced the side fin. In desperation, Joe heaved up on the spear and flung the fish onto the sand behind him. He tried to turn, but Hack and Slash were still doing their best to keep him upright, and it took him precious seconds to get them to understand he needed them to loosen their grip.

As soon as he faced the beach, he saw a shadow pass overhead, and a large winged creature landed on his catch. The thing had leathery wings and a serpentine neck, which ended with an ugly toothy head. It dug its claws into the fish and hissed at him.

“No fucking way! That’s MINE!” Joe yelled and heaved his spear at it.

This time, the spear hit true and sunk a few inches into the creature’s chest. Unfortunately, that just made it pissed off, and it roared its anger before it launched itself at Joe.

Stinky, Hack, and Slash fired their weapons simultaneously at the incoming beast, scorching it right from the air and tearing it into pieces that fell into the hot sand. Joe was dazed by the firepower display, but he hobbled up the sand with the support of the machines until he got to his fish. He picked it up and moved it to his mouth, but Stinky took it away.

So, the fish he fought for was poisonous to him. Figures.

He picked up his spear and saw a chunk of the flying beast was still stuck to its barb. It was almost cooked by the machines. He lifted it to his mouth and was delighted when Stinky made no move to take it from him. He bit into the flesh and felt his taste buds celebrate. It tasted like steak! While he chewed, he collected the other pieces. By the time the sun set that evening, he was basking in the glow of complete satisfaction. He was almost bursting from the amount he’d eaten, but he already felt so much better.

He stacked up the offal a few yards down the beach to see what else he might catch with his sentries. He rested his head back and slipped into a sated sleep in the protective circle of the three machines.

He was jarred awake by the ripping sound of the sentries firing their shock cannons at something approaching them on the dark beach. It was terrifying! Joe peered into the gloom and saw the rough outline of an enormous crab-like creature. Steam hissed and popped from its cooked interior. He struggled to get back to sleep, but it was a fitful night from that point on.

He finally decided to get up with the sunrise despite being tired. Joe found his energy levels were much improved from the day before. His pain was greatly reduced, and he walked slowly down to inspect the crab thing. It was the size of a small Volkswagon! There was a gash in its side from where steam had exploded. Joe took a picture of himself standing next to the massive crab and wished he could send it to Agent White. She would seriously lose her shit! He grinned at the thought.

After securing his phone, Joe reached inside the gash, tore a piece of the flesh out, and held it up to his mouth, watching Stinky. Not a budge. He put the flesh in his mouth and immediately gagged at the salty flavor. Still, it was meat. He cracked open the shell and pulled out a long rope of steamed flesh. Seafood for breakfast. When he was done, he frantically mimed drinking from one of the yellow orbs.

Thankfully, Stinky picked up the clue and brought one back to him. Joe tried to counteract the severe saltiness of the meat with the intense sweetness of the orb’s juice. It didn’t work. Instead, he just felt nauseous. He walked away to lie down in the sun.

By mid-afternoon, the nausea had passed, and he felt much better. Protein had been the missing element in his diet. He tried thinking of ways to collect more.

There was a sudden splashing noise, and Joe saw four Greenies burst from the surf to run toward him. The one in the lead was the only one he recognized on sight. It was the only one carrying a weapon, too. Joe had taken care to memorize the markings on its face as this was the one who had struck him on his chest when he was lying crippled on the ground back in Russia after falling from a great height. That face showed a wild expression, and the club raised in its hand wasn’t meant as a friendly gesture.

Joe stood and faced the rapidly approaching Greenie. Just before it swung the club, Joe stepped inside its reach and punched the jerk square in the face. He felt the bones in its face shatter and drive inwards. It immediately collapsed on the sand, quite dead.

Joe was stunned by how easily he’d just killed the alien. He stepped back and prepared for the other three, but they came to an immediate halt and warbled uncertainly to each other. They kept glancing between Joe and the machines which hovered a few feet behind him. Come to think of it, why hadn’t they stopped him from attacking the Greenie?

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

This series started from a prompt in the Forum by ScrappyPaperDoodler: “As Many Tropes as Possible (A Tribute to Literotica and Smut in General):… a guy… who’s hung like a horse and inherits a billion dollars from a father he never knew he had. He falls in love with his sister… after somehow winning… a game of poker… here’s the twist: the sister is an alien-vampire and all the friends are cyborgs (see ‘fem-bots’)… his high school bully ends up banging the hero’s mom… we all know revenge is a dish best served anally… the use of a time-machine…”

Me being me, I took the absurd as a challenge, and with a lot of help and ideas from Scrappy I’ve written an amusing tale of wishes and wanton lust.

Content Warning: All characters are at least 18 years old.

*

Carl woke from a particularly delicious dream. A deeply erotic dream most frustratingly interrupted, and one that had his cock throbbing with urgent demand for attention. Wrapping a hand about the hard shaft, he stroked gently while trying to lose himself in dream once again. He was round at the nerd’s house again, John’s MILF of a mother bent over the kitchen table, her sweet pussy heaven for Carl’s plundering length.

That had happened for real the day before. Carl had been flirting with her for months now, and claiming her at last had been the perfect way to humiliate John on his birthday. John the nerd, the loser, the dickhead. He deserved whatever he got. That was the way of the world. Carl came from a good family and had practised hard to be an athlete, and that’s why he got to date a hot cheerleader like Tiffany Thomas, and that’s why the local MILF was just gagging for his meat.

Such a sweet dream. Such a sweet memory.

Sighing, he stopped. He was too close to finishing, but there was no sense doing it in bed and having to clean up the mess. He’d finish in the shower instead.

Carl pulled the sheets away and made to stand up, but sat again with a shock and a startled cry. Sitting at his desk was a girl – or a young woman, perhaps – with long, black hair and pale skin. Her dark eyes studied him curiously and there was no doubt she had watched him masturbating. “Who are you?” he demanded, gathering the bed sheets around his waist and his prominent cock – although part of him was tempted to leave it on display. His was a good cock, above average in length and more than enough to satisfy his cheerleader girlfriend and John’s horny mother. It would be good enough for this girl too, whoever she was.

“A better question,” she said, “is who are you? Are you Carl the Asshole, Fucker of Women? Or are you Carla the Cheerleader, MILF in the Making?”

For a brief, anxious instant, Carl worried that this strange girl – strange in both senses of the word – knew somehow of the perverse, secret thrill he got sometimes out of imagining himself as a cheerleader. But then he stamped down on that absurdity. He was a man, damn it, and no one was allowed to question that. “Get the hell out of my room,” he snarled, pointing the way.

The girl laughed and made her way out, pausing briefly in the half-open doorway. “Let’s find out,” she said, and was gone.

Carl locked the door behind her, glad that his was an ensuite room and that he could shower and change without worrying about bumping into her again. Something about her really upset him, maybe the way she seemed to be gently mocking him the whole time, maybe the way she didn’t seem at all interested in him as a man. No doubt she was a lesbian. Carl never liked lesbians. They always acted so superior.

His erection had subsided completely and now just hung there leaking a string of precum that stuck to his thighs. Her fault again – but as he imagined himself forcing her onto his bed, spreading her legs and thrusting his aching cock into her virgin lesbian pussy, showing her that nothing was as good as a man’s cock, that nothing was as good as his cock, he hardened again and his good spirits returned.

In the shower he brought himself to a welcome climax, and imagined the girl on her knees worshipping his cock, telling him that she adored him and that he was so much better than any of her girlfriends.

*

In the wake of that orgasmic release, a dizziness overcame her, and for a long time she just sat against the wall beneath the shower with her eyes closed. Her thoughts were muddled and her feelings chaotic, and slowly it dawned on her that something was very wrong. It didn’t make sense that her blonde hair was so long, and it didn’t make sense that she had breasts – at all, let alone such huge and perky breasts that were bigger even than Tiffany’s – and it really didn’t make sense that between her legs there was no cock, and no balls, only – yes – a virgin pussy amidst trimmed blonde pubes.

“The fuck?” she shrieked, stumbling out of the shower, out of the bathroom with its overpowering floral scent, into a bedroom with pink walls and posters of BTS. It was definitely her room. The view bilecik escort from the window was the same. The shape of the room was the same. But pink and K-pop? It was a girl’s room!

Just as the reflection in the floor-length mirror was a girl’s reflection. Or a very sexy young woman, rather, sexy despite the soaked curtain of blonde hair that framed a face that resembled her own in an attractive but feminine way… but, sexy or not, it wasn’t her. It wasn’t the man she had been only minutes ago. “Fuck!” she whispered. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”

And as if that wasn’t bad enough, she burst spontaneously into tears, and sobbed helplessly as she studied her transformed self in the mirror. It made no sense. None of it made sense. People don’t just change sex between one moment and the next, and rooms don’t redecorate themselves either.

*

A little later, a little calmer, a lot dryer and wrapped in a silvery silk dressing gown, she conducted a quick search of the room, uncovering credit cards and ID that reflected her new reality as Carla, not Carl; a calendar with what she guessed was Carla’s monthly cycle marked; drawers and wardrobes full of girl’s clothing, including a cheerleader’s uniform; a box under the bed with a pink vibrator concealed beneath an assortment of pom poms in different colours; and a smartphone that she didn’t recognise but thankfully her fingerprint unlocked.

There was a message from Tiffany, but it was just about practice being cancelled. She was sure there was something special about the day, an anniversary dinner or something, but there was nothing in Tiffany’s messages to suggest any sort of relationship between them. Carla’s message history with her best friend Jake, on the other hand, was flirty as hell.

A thrill of subtle excitement stirred an unfamiliar tingling within her. (Why did the thought of being Jake’s girlfriend have that effect on her?)

Everything in the room suggested that she had always been Carla, that Carl had never existed. Either this was all a grand and impossible trick being played on her, or this was some kind of alternate reality. (Wasn’t there a Star Trek thing about an alternate universe where everyone had an evil twin?)

It had to be something to do with that girl, the one she had wanked over in the shower… Carla squirmed uncomfortably. She remembered clearly having a cock, but was oddly relieved not to have one any longer. She remembered fucking that MILF the day before, but found herself wondering instead what it must have been like for John’s mother, how it felt to have a hard cock ravishing her like that with youthful vigour.

Carla stared at herself in the mirror. Her hair was a tangled mess, but her body was both toned and athletic, and gorgeously curvy. She just needed a touch of makeup and all the boys would be after her – an idea that somehow failed to disgust her the way it should.

She finally did what every boy does when magically transformed into a girl. She cupped her breasts with her hands, weighing them as if to measure them for pure sexiness. She had breasts! She had fucking breasts! Beautiful and amazing, with thick nipples that were sensitive to the touch and incredibly erotic. The tingling heat within built as Carla lost herself in self-adoration, massaging the flesh that had the potential even to make milk one day, and were certainly big enough to wrap about the hard cock of a well endowed lover. “Ugh!” she said, and burst out laughing.

Sitting on the floor in front of the mirror, Carla spread her labia wide and examined the entrance to her vagina. How deep had the transformation gone, she wondered. Did she have a womb? Could she get pregnant? Was she still technically a virgin and was her hymen still intact? Would sex hurt? Did she have a clit?

That last was easily answered, with some clumsy prodding of her fingers. And she wasn’t wet. Weren’t pussies supposed to be wet? They always were in porn.

Carla sighed irritably. Who knew girls were so complicated. What she needed was an instruction manual – or, better, a YouTube video.

Snatching up her phone, she jumped into bed and typed ‘how to be a girl’ into the app.

*

Simple hunger for food induced Carla to emerge at last from the safety and sanctity of her room. First, though, she had to get dressed, and if the simple act of looking through a drawer full of girl’s underwear felt erotically charged, that was nothing compared to sliding the chosen black, lace knickers up her legs and into place. Figuring out the bra, on the hand, was a serious pain, but with determination she managed at last to fasten it at the back. She was sorely tempted to skip the bra entirely, but knew her mother disapproved of even the suggestion of nipples.

Taming her hair was another whole ordeal that required wetting it in the shower and then brushing the knots from it. It sucked just how much time and effort it took compared to the short hair she was used to as Carl, manisa escort but in the end it was worth it and it was easily tied back into a ponytail. After that it was a case of jeans and a T-shirt. Though she was tempted briefly to wear the cheerleader outfit, she wasn’t quite ready to brave the world in a skirt.

She hesitated at the bottom of the stairs. Her dad was watching sports on television and her mum was in the kitchen. It was exactly the picture of her normal life. What if they were part of her old world? What if they had a son and not a daughter? How would they react to her?

But the smell from the kitchen was too good. Garlic bread and bolognese, and Carla was starving. She had to find out. “Hi Mum,” she said uncertainly, walking into the kitchen.

“I thought you had practice today,” her mother said after a brief, critical glance at Carla’s choice of clothing.

“Cancelled.” Carla relaxed a little, but she was startled by the different dynamic between them. She was used to her mum being proud and affectionate, not this sense of reserved judgement.

“Lucky for some,” her mum muttered. “I suppose you’ll be out with Jake later?”

Carla really hadn’t thought that far ahead. As Carl she would naturally have hung out with Jake and her mother wouldn’t even have thought to mention it. The implication was clear, though. Jake was supposedly her boyfriend, and her mother disapproved. And as much as Carla wanted to hang out with her best friend Jake, her boyfriend Jake was a whole other realm of complication. “Maybe,” she said.

Jake would want to kiss her. Maybe he would want to do more. (Of course he would.) Maybe he had already done more. Maybe Carla was a total slut.

The idea of sex with a man confused her. It excited her the way it had always secretly excited her but had seldom dared to admit even to herself. As Carl, the idea of being attracted to men was completely wrong and gay. As Carla, it would be completely expected for her to be with men, despite the worry that it might go all wrong and she might end up pregnant – and Carla certainly wasn’t ready for that development.

Being a lesbian would be so much simpler… She frowned in sudden thought. “Was there a girl here earlier? Long, dark hair.”

“Just the florist.” Her mother pointed to a vase with a dozen red roses, a card beside them. “Beauty must be rewarded,” the card read. The only indication of who they were from, or indeed for, was the signature ‘V’.

*

Feeling much better for having eaten, but also resentful of the emotional distance between her parents and herself, Carla locked herself in her room once again. Where she had felt free as Carl, more or less able to do as she wished, as Carla her parents seemed to view her as trouble waiting to happen. The way her dad kept staring at her tits was disconcerting also.

Not that Carla could blame him, but it was still weird.

Jake had sent a text asking her out. A cinema date. It was sweet and tentative in a way that suggested they weren’t an official item – yet – which took some of the pressure off her. Learning to be a girl was hard enough without navigating a relationship she had no memory of. And while she wasn’t really in the mood for watching a film, it was a dark and controlled space in which to get used to being a girl on a date with a boy.

No doubt there would be kissing, and of course he would be all over her breasts… but what if he wanted more? Should she play hard to get? What if the reality of being hit on by a boy was nothing like the fantasy? What if he forced himself on her and she couldn’t get away?

It was all so complicated!

Stripping out of her jeans and T-shirt, Carla reached instead for her cheerleader uniform, a red, white and blue ensemble that had always excited her. In a skirt at last, and with pom poms in her hands, she danced in front of the mirror, the movements coming naturally to her as if her body remembered what her mind did not. Her phone was paired with the speaker in her room, and the dance playlist filled the room with energy.

It was a dream come true. She danced for hours, or what seemed like it. Exhausted at long last, she collapsed onto her bed laughing, increasingly aware too of a throbbing urgency within. Her fingers confirmed it. She was aroused, and wet now too.

Pulling off her lace knickers, she massaged her pussy with curiosity. Penetration proved uncomfortable, but circling her clit gently with her fingertips sent shivers of electric pleasure through her whole body. For a while, it was enough to tease herself like this, but it wasn’t getting her to where she needed to be.

Reaching into the box of pom poms, she grabbed hold of the vibrator and switched it on. “Let’s see what you can do,” she whispered, and pressed it carefully against her clit – and cried out in astonishment. Thankfully the music was still loud enough to cover it, and soon she was moaning repeatedly as the tension built to breaking mersin escort point.

Music or not, she covered her face with a pillow as she climaxed with a scream of ecstasy, waves of pleasure like nothing she’d ever experienced before, washing out from within her as the vibrator hummed determinedly at her clit – until she was done at last and so over-sensitised that she couldn’t bear to be touched at all.

“Fuck,” she said, laughing. “Fucking amazing.”

*

Carla’s initial plan to wear high heels and stockings was quickly abandoned. She was too unstable on the heels and they were painful to wear, and she ended up tearing two pairs of stockings in the attempt to get them straight. “Fuck it,” she muttered, and settled for jeans and trainers. Putting makeup on in a way that didn’t make her look like a clown proved to be an ordeal, despite helpful guidance from a dozen YouTube tutorials.

Jake was ten minutes late picking her up, much to her annoyance. Carla had made the mistake of waiting downstairs, and had to put up with her mother’s disapproval, which ranged from, “Are you really wearing that?” to “You could do better than him,” via, “You’d better be home by eleven.”

Carla fumed silently. Why were rules so different for girls? As Carl, she could have worn whatever, got away with brushing her hair and teeth, and borrowed the car for the evening. Her dad had laughed at her earlier when she suggested that.

But at last Jake was there, and Carla dashed out, away from the suffocation of her home and into the passenger seat of Jake’s car, her heart pounding with excitement. It was so weird to be thinking about boys and not worrying about how gay it was. Still, as soon as her seatbelt was fixed, Jake was right in her face, French-kissing her. The seat prevented her retreat and she had to push him away.

“What’s wrong, babe?” he said, puzzled.

“My makeup,” she said, thinking quickly. “You’ll ruin it.”

Carla could still feel his lips, like an echo, and the scratchiness of his face that needed a shave. He was entirely unlike a girl, firm and rough instead of gentle and smooth. He smelled of sweat, antiperspirant and minty freshness. He grinned at her and she smiled back, thinking it would be fun to kiss him again, properly.

The film was The Suicide Squad, which Carla had watched with Tiffany the weekend before, and which Tiffany had only agreed to see because of Harley Quinn. In the back row of the dark theatre, Carla was only interested in kissing Jake. She loved how much she loved being a girl, and how natural it felt to run her hand down Jake’s chest. She loved teasing his tiny man-nipples, and she loved his clumsy attempts to squeeze her new, thick, sensitive nipples through the materials of her shirt and bra.

When he pushed her hand down to his crotch, she didn’t resist, and she felt the heavy, swollen bulge of his cock beneath the denim. It was fun to tease him for a while, but they were only halfway through the film and she was impatient. “Take it out,” she whispered.

“Here?” he asked, confused or maybe just shy.

“Here,” she said. His reluctance amused her. She had often tried to persuade Tiffany to do this, and had assumed it was just something boys wanted and girls refused to do.

Self-consciously, Jake shuffled his trousers down about his knees and freed his cock from his Y-fronts. Carla wrapped her hand about it, thrilled to finally hold a cock that wasn’t her own. Jake’s wasn’t as long as hers had been, but its thickness was astonishing.

She rested her head on his shoulder, half-watching the film while stroking her boyfriend’s erect member. It was almost like a pet, a living creature that pulsed and twitched and wept as she gave it the attention it craved. “Are you enjoying this?” she whispered in his ear.

As if in answer, he stiffened abruptly in her hand, and she laughed hysterically – but as quietly as she could manage – as a seemingly endless stream of cum splashed across the seat in front.

~~~

Three words echoed in Tiffany Thomas’s head.

Worst. Night. Ever.

Bad enough that she had been stood up; worse, it had to be obvious to everyone else in the restaurant. Bad enough that she had just been dumped – by fucking text; worse that this was a special occasion – their anniversary dinner! Bad that that shithead Jake had dumped her for someone else; worse, it was that fucking bitch Carla, of all people. Fuck!

“If you had three wishes…”

Tiffany looked up, startled. There was a waitress looking at her, no doubt impatient to take an order or free up the table. It was a different girl from before. This one had a gothic vibe, what with her near-black hair and pale skin. “I wish my boyfriend’s cock would shrivel up and disappear,” Tiffany said bitterly, but too quietly to be heard. Louder, she added, “I think I’ll just go.”

“I think you should stay,” the waitress said. “I promise you won’t regret it.”

~~~

In the park, behind a bush, Carla paused and regarded the cock she had been happily sucking. All the times she’d had her own cock sucked, back when she had one, she’d never imagined she would enjoy giving as much as receiving. She loved the glide of a hard shaft through her lips and the impatient thrusting of the lover it belonged to. She loved the interplay of control and desire.

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The year was 1955, and the world was in danger. This danger came not in the form of the atom and its radioactive caprices, nor from the pernicious touch of Communism. This danger came from beyond the stars, from the surface of Venus, and it came in sleek, metallic space-ships.

— — —

Rick Sullivan, square-jawed hunk and former GI, strode through the guts of the Pentagon. The darkened hallways through which he walked laid far below the earth’s surface in the hopes that the depth would protect the secret projects contained within from potential attackers, but against their current foe, the United States could scarcely imagine how their defenses would hold up.

He shook his head, recalling the fateful day their enemy had made itself known. One month ago, an idyllic Sunday in Springfield, Illinois, had turned into something out of an H.G. Wells novel. The clouds had parted to reveal a shining cylinder of what appeared to be metal…though there was no way something as massive as that could float if it were. The cowering citizenry had run, screaming, but even over the din of their panic, the strange vessel’s message could be heard for miles.

“B R I N G U S Y O U R H U N K S.”

What they’d meant, no one could figure out, but a few days after the first contact between the alien aggressors and the people of earth, a private line of communication had been established through unknown means, connecting the President and the mysterious visitors. Similar ships had appeared over nearly every major American city in the days that followed. New York. Washington, DC. San Francisco. Chicago. The list went on as the weeks did the same, and soon the entire country was practically swarming with the damned things.

The government had been quiet on the subject, issuing little more than a few token acknowledgments of the strange objects. Didn’t do much to quell the public’s mounting uneasiness, but it was after one such scripted announcement that Rick had been called to the nation’s capital.

Why he’d been called, he couldn’t say. Heck, he was just an American everyman. Rough and tumble during World War Two, mellowed a bit when peacetime’d finally come. He’d reached lieutenant back in the war, true, but why they could want him specifically…he had no clue.

Well, he’d be finding out soon enough. He finally found the meeting room and stepped inside, saluting. “Former United States Lieutenant Richard Sullivan.” He brought his hand down and made his way to the circular table that dominated the room. “I was told to report here to take part in the meeting. Supposed to be regarding those things that’ve been popping up all over the damn place.”

The parties assembled within glanced up at his entrance, though only a few kept their attention on him. For such a large table, there weren’t many people present. A few government officials in suits, one in a general’s uniform, and one in a lab coat. One of the officials stepped forward, extending a hand. “George Roebuck, Secretary of Homeland Security.”

Rick shook his hand, though his eyes widened at the title. “Homeland Security?” The issue was serious, of course, but he couldn’t quite understand where someone as commonplace as he fit into things.

Secretary Roebuck nodded gravely. “That’s right, son.” Around an inch or two taller than Rick and greying at his sideburns, George seemed to be leading the meeting. He returned to his seat at the head of the table and motioned for Rick to sit at his right hand. “Now that Mister Sullivan’s here, I expect it’s about time to explain just what’s been going on lately.” He tapped a button on the table, and a projector hummed to life in the table’s center. “And what we intend to do to solve it. Now-“

A picture lit up on a screen displayed to the side of the table. It showed the United States of America pocked with red dots . They seemed to be bigger over major population centers, but that didn’t change the fact that they nearly covered the entire map.

“As I’m sure you all know – with the exception of Mister Sullivan, perhaps – we’ve been targeted by what our scientists believe to be visitors from another planet.” Rick nearly snorted with laughter at the absurdity of the claim, but when the scientist rose from his seat to step beside the map, it seemed a lot less amusing. “I’ll leave the theory on our ‘guests’ to our liaison from MIT, Doctor Frances Price. Doctor Price, if you’d be so kind?”

“Of course. Now.” He pressed a finger to his glasses, pushing them back up to the bridge of his nose. Turning to the screen – now displaying a grainy photograph of one of the vessels – he spoke. “This remains a theory – insofar as anything lacking definitive evidence must remain a theory – but as far as we can tell, the ‘space ships,’ for lack of a better term, originate from another planet. Their construction outclasses anything possible on Earth, and the technology necessary to achieve such staggering feats is, in a word, inconceivable in its invention.”

He turned to the table and continued. “It is therefore muğla escort my professional opinion – and that of my colleagues, as well – that they originate from another planet, one with a civilization far more advanced than those currently found on Earth. This is further corroborated by the accounts of the President’s communication with the ‘mother ship,’ for lack of a better term.”

He gestured to a stack of paper sitting on the meeting table. “The transcripts document the request of whoever’s operating the vessels. Said request was initially relayed in Mandarin before then being made in Swahili, Esperanto, and – finally – English. It was after the President responded to the fourth attempt that all further communication was made in English.”

“And what was this request, Doctor Price?” Secretary Roebuck asked, leaning his elbows on the table and steepling his fingers.

Doctor Price looked to the screen, brow furrowed. He sighed. Pressing a button, he shook his head and continued as bold, dark letters were displayed on the screen.

BRING US YOUR HUNKS.

Rick gasped, eyes going wide at the sudden revelation. The initial message! Is that what they could have meant?!

Doctor Price nearly couldn’t get the words out, but he forced himself to speak. “They want our hunks. Well-muscled beefcake is the sole purpose of their visit to Earth.”

The room was so deathly quiet that a pin dropping would’ve sounded like a thousand clattering frying pans.

“My God,” came Secretary Roebuck’s horrified reaction. He rose from his seat, hands planted on the meeting room table. “And there’s no error in translation? No chance that they-“

Doctor Price silenced him with one shake of his head. “That was the President’s first reaction, too. He tried – valiantly, I might add – to steer them away from their supposed intent, but time and time again, they denied his every attempt at compromise or correction.”

He pressed a button, and the picture displayed changed to a grinning bodybuilder being lifted from the ground up into one of the strange ships by a strange beam of light.

“Hunks.”

“This-” Rick couldn’t help himself. He rose from his seat, slammed his palms flat against the table, and turned to Secretary Roebuck. “This is insane! Nearly every guy I know’s a hunks! You’re telling me that these-” He thrust a single accusatory finger at the image on the screen. “That these extraterrestrial bastards are gonna try and gobble up all of them?!”

“Not just them,” Secretary Roebuck intoned gravely. His eyes met Rick, and even he could see that Secretary Roebuck was struggling to keep his cool. Eventually he leaned forward in his seat, resting heavily on his elbow. “They’re trying to gobble up you up, too, son.”

Before Rick could even speak – not that he was in much of a position to talk – Secretary Roebuck continued. “Now, we can bullshit each other all we want, but it won’t do us a lick of good. Rick, you’re a hunk. A bona fide stud.” He rose from his seat as well, narrowing his eyes and pointing at Rick. “And that’s exactly whey you’re here.”

There was a pause. A heavy silence hanging in the air. Then, finally, Roebuck’s shoulders sagged, he turned from Rick, and pinched the bridge of his nose. “God help me. Doctor Price, tell Rick why he’s here.” He shook his head. “I just can’t do it.”

Doctor Price had similar difficulties doing so, but in the end, he spoke. He did not, however, look at Rick once in his explanation.

“We have, as previously explained, a direct line to the ‘mother ship,’ for lack of a better term. In the process of negotiating a possible counter-offer, the President was suddenly given an ultimatum.” Price had to pause for a moment, shutting his eyes and holding his breath. “He was to deliver a specimen for appraisal within forty-eight hours.”

“That was forty-four hours ago.”

Rick’s blood ran cold.

“He’s been stalling for as long as he can, but the deadline’s approaching, and we can’t risk reprisal. These things are over every damn city in America, just about, and there’s no telling what they’re capable of.” Price turned to Rick, finally, and spoke. “We held a lottery, drawing from a pool of suitable hunks, studs, and heart-throbs. Your name came up, Mister Sullivan.”

The words crashed down on Rick like a truckload of bowling balls. He staggered once, twice, almost toppling over from shock.

But he finally steadied himself. He stood tall. Proud. And though he was afraid, he fought his fear and kept his head held high. “What,” he said, “do I have to do, doctor?”

There was a short-lived sigh of relief from some of the government officials, but it wasn’t long before it was swept aside by Doctor Price’s hurried explanation. He and Secretary Roebuck stepped forward, taking Rick by the arm and guiding him from the table to a side door. As he was led from the meeting room, he caught a glimpse of the general, saluting him with what looked to be tears in his eyes.

“Wish ordu escort I had just about a tenth of your guts, Lieutenant.”

But there was no time for a response. No, Rick and his two guides were navigating yet more hallways, these ones sterile white. Doctor Price spoke hurriedly as they made their way into their apparent destination.

“Now,” he said, brow furrowed intensely. “We have been sent a device by the ‘mother ship,’ for lack of a better term. It’s capable of transporting organic and inorganic material from one space to another instantaneously, similar to how a telephone instantly transmits one’s voice. This ‘tele-porter,’ for lack of a better term, is how the President was instructed to deliver the designated hunk.”

They finally entered a room, empty save for a strange, glowing device. Looked almost like an armchair with a few light bulbs sticking out of it, but somehow Rick knew it was a bit more complicated than that.

“Now,” Doctor Price continued, leading Rick to the machine and sitting him down in it. “There’s no time to explain the method by which this transportation is achieved – nor any concrete explanations – but we can confirm that you will be safely tele-ported, for lack of a better term, to the mother ship, for lack of a better term.”

Straps went across his chest, his arms, his legs. His wrists and ankles were similarly tied down to the seat by a material unlike anything he’d felt or seen before. Soft, but unyielding in its tensile strength. Rick gave an experimental flex of one sculpted bicep, but he couldn’t so much as budge his restraints.

“I wish we had more time to go over this. Truly, I do.” Doctor Price spoke to Rick, but the scientist’s attention was more focused on an array of blinking lights and mechanical controls in front of him. He flipped switches, pushed buttons and even pulled a lever. “But time, as they say, flees. Beginning initial power-up countdown. One minute until transport.”

“You’re doing more for your country than most men can dream of, Mister Sullivan,” came Secretary Roebuck’s stony reassurance. He almost clapped a hand on Rick’s shoulder, but something stopped him. Fear, perhaps. “God willing, you’ll be returned to the green arms of Earth soon. If not…”

He was silent for a moment.

“Your wife will be taken care of financially by the federal government.”

“Thirty seconds.”

Rick’s heart pounded in his chest. He shut his eyes.

“Ten seconds.”

He wanted to scream, to cry, to do something, anything, but-

“Five. Four. Three. Two. O-“

There was a flash of light, a sudden and profound silence, and then…nothing.

— — —

When Rick finally came to, he felt like he’d just been slapped silly by an ornery octopus, but it was no surly cephalopod that had him dazed. No, the teleportation device had worked its esoteric magic on him, and sent him…directly aboard one of the vessels.

At least, he assumed that’s what had happened. After all, there was no other way to account for the sudden, jarring change in scenery. The cramped subterranean staging area of his Pentagonal mission had changed to a wide, open room. It was reminiscent – though he didn’t quite know it – of the halls of Ancient Greece. Pillars lined the outer rim of the room, and everything – everything – gleamed shiny, reflective chrome.

Everything, perhaps, except for the skin of the woman in front of him. No, that was beautiful, peerless porcelain, cream-pale and so soft-looking that it held Rick’s eyes longer than the room around him ever could. Clad in a similarly metallic leotard, one that did nothing to hide her cleavage or the blush-inducing swell of her hips, she was a dead ringer for Bettie Page and the pin-up queens that had plastered his bedroom walls. Raven hair, piercing blue eyes, and ruby-red lips. Long, lissome legs that capped at the callipygian swell of her pert derriere. There was no doubt about it:

This was the face of the alien menace.

He struggled once more against his bindings, furious at the heartless aggressor that had so callously demanded his country give up their hunks. His muscles tensed and strained in his ultimately Sisyphean effort. She stepped forward, tall, chrome heels clicking against the ground. Struggling, Rick tried desperately to stop her as she reached out, but his fighting stopped when she touched a gloved hand to his temple.

Instantly, he felt his ire vanish, subsumed by a warm, pleasant glow in the pit of his stomach. His muscles relaxed, he slumped back in his seat, and his eyelids fluttered. Rick managed to keep his eyes open, though, even if the effort seemed two steps from too much. He looked up at her, craning his neck to meet her gaze, and spoke through the enervating relaxation.

“Who. What are you?”

When she spoke, it was almost mechanical, even if her voice was that of a silver-screen siren’s. Smooth and melodious, the alien terror explained. “I am Biological Technician Velora Thirty-Six of planet osmaniye escort Venus Prime, a planet known to your people as ‘Venus.’ I have been tasked with ensuring your physical fitness and performing the first extraction.” She turned from him and busied herself at what appeared to be a highly advanced terminal. Words flashed on a screen above a keyboard faster than he could read, and lights blinked on the side of it.

Rick blinked heavily, and with a shake of his head, cleared his thoughts. “Extraction? Whuh-” The pleasure she’d filled him with was potent, but it wasn’t irresistible. He could fight it, and he intended to do just that. Maybe if he could stall for time, he’d be able to find out what they wanted. For all he knew, the President was negotiating his release as they spoke! Rick narrowed his eyes at Velora and refocused his thoughts.

“What are you going to extract?”

“Your semen,” she said calmly, even as he nearly sputtered. “Venus Prime has exhausted its vast reserves of semen, and we are in danger of going extinct because of it.” She looked away from the terminal and, for just one moment, seemed to show some modicum of sympathy. “It is an unfortunate necessity that we have come to your planet. Velora Prime, our queen, is prepared to reward your people handsomely for their sacrifice.”

“Sacrifice? What do y-” His words were silenced by a trio of devices lowering from the ceiling and attaching themselves to him, one by one. The first to slide on was what felt like a circlet around his head. The second was a pair of goggles – though they were more like a blindfold, couldn’t see out of them. Finally, something seemed to press against his groin and…

He suddenly felt the cool air against his crotch, his trousers having been unzipped and tugged to his knees. In the face of his alien captor, Rick found himself shamefully half-hard, which is exactly what allowed the third device to slide around his member and latch onto it.

Frozen in place, half by fear, half by his restraints, and half by a strange electric pulse from the band around his head, Rick couldn’t even begin to free himself from the strange devices. He could still hear Velora tapping at the terminal, though what she was doing, he had no idea.

An inkling, however, began to form when an image appeared in front of him. A woman sitting on a throne dominated his vision, apparently displayed on the inside of his goggles. What was strange, however, was that even if the throne was displayed with crystal clarity, the woman herself was…indistinct. It was as if she was seen through an oil-smeared window. As time went on, however, the image cleared.

She was just as beautiful as Velora, if not moreso. Her figure had the same delectable hourglass ratio with just a bit more curve to her bust and her hips, and the chrome leotard she wore was complemented by a similarly metallic cape. Black hair framed a heart-shaped face. She wore a crown, as well, set just above a pair of enchanting green eyes.

“Greetings, Earthling,” she said, her voice seeming to echo in the back of Rick’s head. Her voice was beautiful, but it commanded attention more than it induced adoration. Even if Rick hadn’t been struck dumb by her beauty, he would have been silenced by her tone.

“I am Velora Prime, Queen of Venus Prime. You have been selected as a semen donor based on your physical and genetic desirability. To facilitate your brave sacrifice, we Venusians have constructed the Extractor to ensure your semen is extracted as pleasurably as possible.”

As if on cue, the device attached to his manhood began to clench around his member, drooling lubrication onto his cock. The pleasure was exquisite, though it was more languid than anything that could bring him to orgasm. Of course, Rick was hardly in a position to complain. His penis was quickly coaxed to its full, twitching length, though the Extractor didn’t increase its speed as he throbbed inside it.

“We have designed the Extractor to be irresistible, knowing that you would resist our attempts to extract your semen.” A large, black and white spiral began to turn behind Velora Prime’s throne, spinning slowly. “Resistance is futile. You will ejaculate until your testicles empty, and you will do so willingly.”

“As we speak, your mind is being probed to determine your ideal sexual partner. When she is compiled, I will adopt her appearance and instruct you to ejaculate, and you will do so.”

The Extractor had gotten a bit faster now. If he hadn’t been hanging off of Velora Prime’s every word, Rick would’ve sworn he heard slurping. His cock twitched and bulged in the vacuum-tight embrace, and little by little, it changed to accommodate his member. The temperature inched just a bit higher. The lubrication was just a bit slicker. The suction wasn’t quite so strong, it wasn’t moving quite so fast. Every change that it could make to suit Rick’s personal preferences, it did. It wasn’t long before the Extractor knew Rick’s cock better than he did, and it used the data to milk him expertly.

And all the while, he drooled, staring at an image of Velora Prime. Electricity buzzed in the back of his head until it stilled with a Ping! Velora Prime stepped forward, the mesmerizing spiral behind her only pulling Rick deeper. “Your ideal sexual partner has been determined. Adjusting simulated image now.”

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Author’s note: the following story is pure fiction and any resemblance to real people is purely coincidental. This story contains explicit material and any reader who is not over the age of 18 must exit now. The author expresses his gratitude to user Sweet_emOcean for taking time to review and edit this story and suggesting changes to make it more readable. Love ya, Em!

He rode along slowly, letting his shiny black stallion prance sideways, showing off his paces in the early afternoon. The rider, body covered in a suit of armor that left little of his skin showing, scanned the surrounding forest for any movement that would be out of place. Although he had a destination, he was in no great hurry to get there. In fact his job was to patrol the high road, keeping it safe from the myriad bands of roving highwaymen that preyed on weaker travelers far from the defensive walls of the cities.

He rode with the visor of his helmet up, leaving the upper part of his face among the few exposed parts of his being. Fortunately the weather was fairly mild this time of year or the armor could have been like an oven, as it would be in the months of summer coming up. However for now he and the horse both reveled in the cooler temperatures.

That was good for the thoroughbred because much of his chest was covered in a heavy leather blanket, used as a shield against opponents to ward off glancing blows from lance or sword and sometimes even the wild kick of an opponent’s stead as well. The stallion’s mane had been cropped along his neck so that it stood at attention in a long row, a proud badge of his prowess in battle. The leather blanket was painted with the emblem of his owner, a crescent with lion and snake and sword that described danger to those who trespassed thereon. The knight carried his long jousting lance in an upright position, the butt of its handle resting in a pocket of his saddle hanging near his right stirrup. His long double-edged sword was sheathed under his left thigh, its handle protruding where he could quickly put it into play if the need arose.

Still searching the surrounding forest from treetops to the wild tangle of heather that grew beneath, he found no cause for alarm and continued his laggardly pace toward his destination.

The mare was coming from the North on the low road. She was every bit as well groomed and proud as any stallion that roamed these isles. She was a soft brown color with a coat that had been brushed until it shined in the sunlight. Her long black mane flowed in the soft breeze with each toss of her head while she scanned the river on one side and the encroaching forest on the other, just as intently as her mistress scrutinized the same terrain. She wore a leather skirt that covered her shoulders and displayed a crest of tiger, sword and eagle signifying her strength and alertness and readiness to do battle.

The rider was covered from head to mid-thigh with an unusual armor, solid instead of mail, and shiny silver brightness seldom seen other than the occasional newly cast silver coins that were put into service from The Kings Mint. Those coins quickly became tarnished and dull but this armor was still shiny as the day it was formed, telling of hours its owner spent in polishing it. Not only was it remarkable because of its flashiness in the sunlight but also because of its form fitting shape which seemed to mold to every curve and contour of its wearer’s body. Her breasts were sculpted in the hard metal down to the last detail, including her erect nipples standing proud in the spring warmth.

A metal strap on her left side held the hilt of her sword. It was not the heavy double-edged sword of most male’s of the realm in those days but a thin, curved blade with a single sharp side and filed down to a needle point; its handle was shaped to protect its wielder’s hand and altogether it was a weapon made for speed, to allow its user to penetrate an opponent’s defenses before he could bring his own weapons to bear. Her right hand held her jousting lance upright in its stirrup pocket, keeping it balanced by making the quick adjustments necessitated by the mare’s movements out of old habits that now required no thinking.

She too had a destination in mind but was in no great hurry to arrive there. She continued to survey the landscape around her as she and her horse moved through it, finding no cause for alarm. Even the occasional peasant that she passed stepped aside and bowed in deference to her, signifying that they offered her no threat.

The düzce escort first intimation she had that something was different was the soft clip-clop of his horse’s hooves. It was an uneven sound because the horse was turning this way and then that as his rider kept watch but the sound of any horses meant an unusual occurrence because horses were owned only by those in high places: either the kings special vassals or outlaws who stole enough to be able to afford to purchase horses. She was instantly on guard as her left hand reached to her visor and flipped it down, readying her for battle if need be.

His first inclination of a change was in the form of silence, as the chirp and click of insects around him quieted, indicating that someone else was in the area along the river which the noisier insects inhabited. Then he began to catch flashes of brilliant blinding light to his left, portending that someone was traversing the low road. Since there were no other knights patrolling in this area, the rider had to be an outlaw. As he pulled up to a stop at the ford where the high road and low road joined to cross the river, he turned to face the low road and slowly lowered his jousting lance into a near-horizontal position. He flipped his visor down and made ready for battle.

When the rider appeared with the sun throwing glancing rays off his shiny silver armor, the knight was surprised to see that it was a small man, at least smaller than him, and that he was not completely covered in armor … and that he was riding a mare instead of a stallion, although it was obviously a high-bred horse in spite of its gender.

In his best authoritative voice, the knight called, “Ho! Yield to one on the King’s business. Discard your weapons or suffer the consequences!”

In a strong husky voice, she replied, “No! You, sir, are a prevaricator. “Tis I who is here on the King’s business. Yield now before I run you through!” Her jousting lance was now horizontal and pointed at the knight.

Suddenly he kicked the stallion in the flanks and they charged across the large clearing. She nudged the mare with her knees and they moved swiftly toward the knight, closing the distance rapidly. They were less than ten meters apart when the stallion shied and the knight’s lance veered off course to his right as a blinding splash of sunlight flashed off her brilliant suit of armor … just as he realized that there was something unusual about the way her armor was shaped.

Before he regained his eyesight from the brilliant flash, he felt a hard jab from her lance under his left ribcage and he went flying off the stallion. His lance rolled uselessly down the embankment as he landed unceremoniously on his derriere with a loud clang as pieces of the armor banged together in a cacophony of sound.

Jumping to his feet, his right hand reached for the sword in the scabbard at his left side, pulling the weapon part way out before his brain meshed enough to register what he had just witnessed: he had jousted with … a FEMALE. He could not believe it! A girl had bested him! It had to be a girl, to have armor shaped like that. After all what man would wear armor with breast-shaped protuberances like those. And the nipples! By Thor! They were as large and pronounced as any he had ever seen, even on the wenches that worked the wayside inns where he often stayed and whose services he usually sampled freely.

He turned toward her in time to see her dismount, having already dropped her jousting lance. Gracefully she hit the ground and spun to face him, at the same time drawing her little whippet of a sword and wielding it in a manner that told him in no uncertain terms that she was not only aware of what it was for but was the mistress of its use as well. Purposefully she strode toward the knight, sword at the ready.

He was very impressed with what he could see. She walked with a strong stride, supported on two very shapely legs that were at the same time muscular and feminine. There were no bulges but rather smooth transitions from small ankle up around her calves and narrowing at the knees, then again veering up and out as her legs joined her torso, barely concealed under the lowest of the armor. Her gait was even and polished but … my god, he thought … her lower armor must somehow be hinged to let her bottom swing from side to side like that.

She was still several strides from him when he held up his right hand in a signal edirne escort of friendly confrontation, flipped up his visor, and said, in a softer tone, ” Cease! Let us have a truce, even if momentary. Let us discuss business.”

She stopped where she was, coming to stand with her feet spread wide, sword held across her waist in a position where she could bring it to bear on the knight quickly if the need arose. She spoke, this time in a rather musically lilting voice, “So state your business.”

“I am a knight of the King’s Overseers of the Criminal Kingdom, sometimes known as KOCK. I am Sir Jack of Stroke-On-Trent. I am assigned to patrol the high road from Coventry to Nottingham. I am today performing those duties duly assigned to me by His Majesty the King himself. And who might you be?”

She flipped up her own visor and spoke, “I am known as Kittie of Wet Chester. I am a member of the Kings Underlings against Nomadic Terrorism, sometimes called KUNT. We voluntarily patrol the low road long the river from Duke-in-Kitty to the ford and thence to Coventry. We take as our duty the right to remove the manhood of those who would rape and pillage the King’s people, land and animals.”

While they had been talking, both of them had heard the whinnying of the two horses but had ignored them until now. Then, as one, they turned their heads to see the two horses nudging each other. As they watched, the mare turned around, positioning her backside in front of the stallion, whose long tongue started low and climbed the crease between her legs while her tail was raised in a giant question mark. The stallion’s tongue made the same foray again before his long nose nudged the mare in the soft spot between her legs. In one quick jump, the stallion’s front hoofs landed on her back while his enormous male member appeared from between his hind legs, pierced the mare’s reproductive system and he plunged nearly two feet of meat thicker than the knight’s forearm into the depths of the mare. While the two warriors watched, the mare backed to the stallion and held steady while he plunged over and over into her hindquarters until, with a shrill yell, he exploded into her depths, filling her with his seed. With the stallion’s front hoofs again on the ground, he nudged the mare on the shoulder and they continued their courtship, one nudging the other and then vice-versa, shoulder rubbing shoulder, tongues making long slow trails along the neck of the other.

The two warriors looked at each other … and the same urges struck them at the same time. They tried to come together for a kiss but the unforgiving armor was too much of an impediment. They tore off their helmets and threw them to the ground, he revealing a closely shaven head with evenly defined features. Her helmet released long blonde tresses that fell down to her mid-back and a beauty that he had never encountered. Each warrior began tearing at the clasps, anxious to shed the metal weights in favor of softer touches. Finally to facilitate matters, she turned him around and unfastened his armor, letting it slip to the ground to reveal a handsome man with a well-chiseled body. He turned her and helped remove her shiny armor to reveal the lush, curvy body he had only dreamed about until now.

Moving to a soft grassy copse in the shade of the tall surrounding trees, they fell together, lips crushing against the other’s mouth, tongues dueling as if they were also warriors. Her hand whirled over his body from his face to his crotch, front and back, feeling every inch of him. His hands hungrily followed suit, covering all of the soft curves and surprisingly muscular arms and legs of the female.

Once stripped, they fell together as if trying to devour each other. Their emotion was not so much lust as it was hunger … a hunger to know every part of the other person. She pulled his cock toward her wet pussy, spreading her legs and sitting down on him until the very base of his organ was pressed against the outer lips of her sweet opening. He managed exactly three plunges into her before she violently rolled them over and, sitting atop his rigid member, began banging her bottom against him unmercifully. He captured her heavy breasts, which overflowed even his ham-sized hands, and sucked one, then the other before repeating the process over and over. Then he knew the urge to change the angle of their mating and with a lurch, rolled them over until he was in her saddle. Raising himself, he elazığ escort positioned his cock to plunge straight down into her honey hole and drove himself in time after time as she raised her bottom to meet his every thrust.

It lasted less than two minutes before she wrapped her arms around his waist and gave a quick twist, turning them upside down again. She lifted her legs, did a 180 degree spin and began to bang her bottom on his stiff fulcrum again. He contented himself with groping her sloping hips and round buttocks while she shimmied up and down his throbbing probe. A little over a minute was all he could stand; he grabbed her hips and gave a twist, spinning her over onto her hands and knees as he came up behind her. Finally in the same position the horses had used to copulate, he pounded her ass hard with his hot cock.

This time there was no turning for either of them. She began to moan, urging him to pound her pussy hard; not that he could have done anything differently, he was already pumping as fast and furiously as he could, feeling his pubic region slam into her rounded globes with every inward thrust while his balls slapped against her slippery slit. Then with a cry from both of them, he slammed himself into her one last time and gripped her hips tightly, holding himself deep inside her as his testicles finally pumped what seemed to be an enormous load of hot sticky white cum into her equally hot confines. At the same time she cried out as her body shook with the convulsions of her own orgasm, wave after wave of pleasure washing over her body until the adrenaline burned her muscles so much that she could no longer support herself and she slowly slid down to the soft green grass. He fell to the grass beside her, an arm over her back holding her close to him while their hearts pumped at more than twice their normal rate.

When their heart rates had returned to normal, he realized that they had left their gear in the open. Checking to insure that no one was within sight of them, they both sprinted, still naked, to the road and collected their lances and horses, bringing them back to the hidden grassy copse. Letting the horses share half of the clearing, the warriors again drew together on the soft grass.

He started kissing her, starting with her face, then along the sides of her neck, down her shoulders to her beautiful breasts, where he made a small feast while her hand explored his cock and balls. Eventually he moved on down her stomach and his tongue trailed into the curly, almost invisible blonde hair that topped her most precious area. It was the first time he had tasted himself in a lover … the first time he had WANTED to taste himself. Somehow in her it was erotic and intoxicating, especially when she tugged on him to straddle her and she engulfed his newest erection in her mouth, licking off the last vestiges of their coupling.

For a long time they just savored each other but when his tongue began touring between her sensitive pussy and her tantalizing anus, she quickly built up to another explosive orgasm. He feared that she would bite the head off his member when she gurgled and stiffened and tried to scream as she reached the crest of the pleasure mountaintop and jumped into the abyss on the other side. But she managed to keep his purple helmet intact and captured between her lips without marking it with her teeth. When she regained control, she began sucking his spear with great force while he busied himself lapping up her copious juices. It didn’t take long for her to coax his balls into spitting out a fresh load of his seed, most of which she captured and swallowed, but a few drops she wiped from her face with a finger which she sucked clean.

When he could move again, he turned and lay beside her, pulling her to him with both arms. He brushed her perspiration-tinged hair from her forehead and kissed her ever so tenderly before whispering that he had never known one so beautiful … or so loving. She smiled and purred as she kissed him back, sighed softly and held on to the best lover she ever had. When he persisted in whispering sweet nothings in her ear, she cupped his cock and balls in her hands, letting her warmth slowly bring him back to life.

This time she let him climb into her saddle and pierce her gently and for most of the next hour, they knew only each other. Finally sated, they dressed, donned their armor and mounted their patient steeds. They resumed their duties, fording the river and riding the joint road toward the city, several hours behind their usual schedule.

He knew a perfect inn that they made by nightfall. It made no difference to either of them that the customers who remained at the bar long after they had retired to their room upstairs complained about “whatever it was that made the whole house rock” until the wee hours of the morn.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Author’s Note: This is my 200th story posted to Literotica. Two hundred stories of smut, adventure and exciting heroics. I hope you have all enjoyed it as much as I’ve been writing it. Thank you all for your support, whether it’s been a kind word in the comments, an e-mail sent to me, or through the other means I’ve brought up.

I cannot fully express my gratitude more than that. ^_^

Now!

Lets see if the Unconquered can save the world.

***

The beach that stretched along the boundary between the central lands that bordered Mt. Mahameru and the Great Western Ocean was strewn with shipwrecks — vessels tossed up thanks to centuries of work by the Storm Sisters and similarly vengeful and furious water spirits. Considering the continental size of the Great Western Ocean and the sheer population of spirits, gods, and stranger creatures, it was easy for a hapless ship to blunder from one sea lane into another and to find themselves suddenly beholden to a completely different set of criteria as to what was ‘appropriate.’ If you were sailing with blue sails and salt on the deck but entered into the court of Storm Sisters, then none of that would matter if you had a woman on the deck.

The end result was a truly staggering number of wrecks cast onto the shore, many of them still lingering under the curses that had put them there. Those curses had the opposite effect they would have in the ocean. They preserved the wrecks. No one, not even the desperately poor who had to live this close to the Great Western Ocean without a harbor god to protect them, would be willing to make a house out of cursed wood.

This is what made it such a perfect meeting spot for such an unlikely group of allies.

The ship wreck that the Piss Boot Legion sheltered under had been a two hulled catamaran of immense size, whose sturdy central hull managed to keep the second half of the ship hanging overhead despite the ship’s age and the barnacles that grew along the side, dangling down like stalactites. Sea rain dripped from them while sleet gray clouds swept across the wreck strewn shore, but the hull itself kept most of the rain off the low, portable table that Ejana had set out for the meeting. Somewhere in the refugee train they had found some tea, a portable kettle, and set to boiling the water, which Tayar poured into a cup for the envoy they had come to meet.

“Sorry about the tea,” Ember said, smiling slightly as he knelt across from the envoy. The envoy picked up the tea between two broad fingers, lifted it to her slit nose, and sniffed it.

One Eyed Razor, the Pirate-Legionary, grinned at Ember past the steam that rose from the cup.

“I expected someone more impressive, you know,” she said, pounding back the drink.

“I expected someone with only one eye,” Ember said. Ceaith snorted behind him and Ember held out his hand for a low five. His Lunars were disposed around the meeting area as fit their wants. Tayar had taken over the duties of serving tea and being distracting in a low cut kimono, while Chirp and Xora were kneeling at a distance — Chirp to keep a watch on everything going on at the table, Xora to keep watch on everything beyond the wreck. Ember wasn’t sure where Jaqueline had gotten herself to — but he had spotted a bit of orange fur heading up into the rafters. So, he was pretty sure that his Agate had found somewhere to leap down dramatically at the appropriate moment.

One Eyed Razor did, in fact, have two eyes. She had gray skin and long, eel-like hair that draped along her back like slippery coils. Her eyes were pure midnight black, without pupils or whites that Ember could see. Her nose was slitted, like a shark, and her teeth were razor sharp, glittering with every grin that she sent his way. He noticed a very faint hint of gills along her neck, similar to Xora’s. But where Xora was broad and muscular, One Eyed Razor was made of angular lines and narrow, predatory grace. She slammed the cup down on the table, like she had just pounded down a shot of saké.

“So!” One Eyed Razor said. “Let me run down this, bullet point by bullet point, to make sure I’ve got the picture.”

She clicked her claws, then flicked her finger at Ember. “You died.”

“Yes,” Ember said.

“And crawled out of Hell,” One Eyed Razor said.

“Yes,” Ember said.

“And now you’ve got no powers, no mandate of Heaven, no soulgem, and nothing between you and your Lunar Circle than just their own feelings. No celestial marriages. No empathic links. No mana transfusions.” One Eyed Razor stood. “For a military, all you got is the decimated remains of the Piss Boot Legion, a few civilian stragglers, and a single skyship from the fucking Locust People and one of their wind up toys.”

“Hey!” Elegant Nova of Progression said, turning away from the wooden hulls he had been prodding at. “I’m not just a toy. I’m a Champion of Lyca.”

“Yeah. Sure.” One Eyed Razor started to pace, her hands on her hips. “So, you want me to sign up my entire Legion and all my auxilaries bursa escort onto your side to take on the First, the Second, the Fourth and the Eight Legions all at the same time. Oh, who are also led by the Good King Bahul, a hundred year of Unconquered who has spent that entire time training to be stronger, faster, and more powerful than any mortal has ever been. All to…” She spread her hands. “What?”

“Save the world,” Ember said, nodding seriously.

One Eyed Razor sucked on her lower lip.

She looked at Ceaith, then back at Ember, then back to Ceaith.

“You know,” she said. “When you first pitched this meeting to me, you didn’t mention any of that shit, Ceaith.”

Ceaith shrugged. “I’m cute, so who cares?”

“The fuck of it is that actually works.” One Eyed Razor shook her head. “No. That almost works. Sorry, I’d rather take my risk in the Sunder.”

Ember sighed. “That may be okay for you and your family. But…Chirp, how many people live in the Land of Ten Billion Gods?”

“Um…” Chirp coughed. “At the last census that I’ve read, uh, it’s close to twenty billion people.”

“If we leave,” Ember said. “Every single person on the Land is going to die. But if we take a stand, we have a chance.” He clasped his hands together. “For Cycles, the Unconquered has been used as a way to keep us from actually advancing. Every time a good Unconquered builds a culture that can last, an evil Unconquered is chosen to knock it to pieces. We can change that — we can stop Bahul, we can stop this whole bloody cycle, and we can create a future that might be better than the past ten thousand years of murderous violence. But to do that, we need to stop Bahul. To do that, we need you.”

One Eyed Razor snorted. “No. You’re going to need way more than just my Legion. We’re good. We’re the best sky-fighters you’ve ever seen. But we’ll be outnumbered five to one out there.” She shook her head. “I feel bad for those people. I really do. But…unless you pull another three Legions out of your incredibly cute ass…” She spread her hands.

Ember pursed his lips. He glanced to Nova. Nova gave him a subtle nod.

Ember stood, slowly, grunting with the effort. “Come on,” he said. “I want to show you something, Razor.”

He put his hand on her shoulder and turned her around — to face the shore. Past the wrecks and the rocks, there was the sleet gray sea, roiling and crashing. Razor looked at the horizon, brushing some of her hair back and away from her eyes. There, where the horizon met the sea, a rippling began to spread across the clouds, pulling back and sweeping aside, like some vast curtain. Behind that curtain was the roiling red of the Sunder. But dotted among the clouds and between the crackling thunderbolts was a massive array of black dots — dots that swelled in size with shocking speed as lean, knife hulled skyships cut through the air, leaving behind disturbed wakes on the water as they soared close enough to kick up sea spray.

Elegant Nova of Progression leaped forward and landed before One Eyed Razor and Ember, spreading her arms. “Behold!” she said, her voice booming as she leaked magic into it — her eyes gleaming as her words took on the echoing reverberation of a propaganda announcer. “The military might of the Lycan Sky-Navy!”

One Eyed Razor whistled slowly. “I had no idea Locust People had so many fucking guns.”

Nova beamed. “Well, I- hey! We’re not Locust People! You can’t just lump an entire diverse group of people into one mass, you stupid Shardies!”

“Nova!” Ember pointed his finger at us. “Remember what we talked about?”

Nova pouted. “Fine. But there’s a way bigger difference between a Lycan and a Suryan than there is between…” She gestured to the gray skinned, black eyed, eel haired One Eyed Razor and the red skinned, gold eyed, black haired Ember. “You know. Whatever ethnic groups you two are.”

Ember shook his head.

No matter what happened next…it was going to be interesting.

***

The planning and the tactical preparations for the last ditched, desperate bid to save the whole of the Land from the mad plans of King Bahul ran into a snag near their end. Everything had been going quite well: The Ninth Legion and the Piss Boot Legion would merge their troops, with the Piss Boot Legionaries serving as the marines aboard Ninth Legion skyships. The Lycan sky-navy would serve as the central core of their attack formation — having the most heavily armored ships, they would be able to soak up the incoming weaponry from their enemies. They would converge towards Bahul’s statue, and seek to destroy it before it could launch. The flagship of the Ninth Legion, Razor’s sleek fast attack frigate (which she had named the Stiletto), would carry the five Lunars into their destined battle against Bahul himself.

“Five Lunars,” June said as she explained this part of the plan to One Eyed Razor, Ejana, and the Lycan admiral. “Normally, any one Lunar çanakkale escort would be helpless against an Unconquered. Doubly so since they’re nominally married to him. But since Chirp, Ceaith, Xora, Jaqueline and Tayar were married to Ember, not to Bahul, that restriction won’t have any sway with them. And where one Unconquered can defeat one Lunar in battle, five would be able to hold him down and beat the fuck out of him.”

The Lycan admiral — a tall, broad shouldered man whose face looked like it had been plated in solid jade and riveted into place — nodded. “Understood. We shall deploy our Champion, Nova, to assist in that battle.” He frowned. “This better work…” He lifted his head, glaring right at Tayar. “And you promise that the treaty is binding, even if some, or all, of you should fall in battle?”

“The treaty is binding,” Tayar said. The treaty had been what brought the Lycans in in such a dramatic force: It stipulated that, for ten thousand years, so long as the rulers of the Land persisted, they would owe the Lycans the first pick in purchasing and mining magical materials. They also promised several immigration treaties, to allow people from the Land to move to Lyca and vice versa. This would be a dramatic shift in the relation between the Land and the city states of the Sunder. For ten thousand years, the strongest nation-states had come into the Land and scooped up massive chunks of it every time they wanted to. Without a way to defend itself, the Land had simply grown used to this predation.

That was about to change. Thanks to Ember. Ember was feeling pretty good about that when the snag happened.

“Besides,” Tayar said. “Ember will be remaining behind — he shall be able to uphold the treaty.”

“I excuse me what?” Ember snapped his head up from the map to the gathered generals and Lunars.

Ceaith had the good graces to look abashed. So did Chirp. Xora and Jaqueline exchanged a glance. Tayar, lovely Tayar, tried to be diplomatic. “Ember…” she said. “You’re not the Unconquered right now.”

Ember flinched, then looked down at the map. “I should be there.” He whispered.

“Ember…” Ceaith moved around the table. She put her hand on his. “It’s going to be a battle between five demigods and a two hundred year old God-Emperor with all the power of the incarnae sun in his hands. Like.” She shook her head, brushing her fingers through her wild mane of brown hair. “Anyone who gets within a mile of ground zero is going to be ripped to pieces.”

Chirp gulped and looked as if they, at that moment, would rather like to bow out of the upcoming battle.

Ember clenched his hands and then let them rest on the map. He hung his head forward. “I should be there…” His voice was almost silent. Shame burned through him — a fierce needle sharp shame that made tears prick at the corners of his eyes. At the moment the world needed him most, he was useless. So fucking useless. He drew in a shuddering breath — and he lied. “All right. I’ll stay behind.”

“Yeah…” Ceaith said, quietly. “Ember. I love you. I want you to know that. Like. A lot. Look up.”

He lifted his head.

Ceaith punched him in the jaw — and Ember went out like a light.

***

June Devilblood stood on the prow of the Ninth Legion attack frigate, the Broadsword, and squinted into the wind. The sails of the skyship crackled with aetheric lightning as her crew hauled them out to as far a span as they could manage. The whole craft felt as if it was shuddering beneath her feet, trembling as it caught the wind and rocketed forward. Ahead of her, the Land swept out like a carpet of greens and golds. Fields. Forests. And beyond them, the still smoldering ruin of Samsara.

Even the apocalyptic bombardment that had struck the city had not fully erased it from creation. Yes, a good chunk of it was now so much smoldering ice, and huge swaths have been reduced to frozen craters. But buildings still stood — all with a chunk or two ripped from them, like some ferocious, hungry titans had been about the city, clawing and digging. Clustered around the city like a murder of crows were the remaining ships of the loyalist Legions. Most of them were the heavy battleships and cruisers that had been too slow to hound the refugees as they had tried to flee in desperation.

June’s fingers dropped to the bottles on her belt. She had brewed as fiercely as she could while the preparations had been taking place. While the Lycans and the Ninth Legion had both had plenty of supplies, there was a limit to what most thamaturges could do in a crunch.

June grinned.

She wasn’t most thamaturges.

She spared a glance to the left and took that moment to admire the splendid view that was war. The whole sweep of the combined Locust and Lander fleets was majestic: Hundreds of ships with spread aetheric sails, the polished snouts of their mana-cannons aimed towards the enemy. Crew in bright, crisp uniforms scrambled about, while rize escort Piss Boot Legionaries readied their heavy armor. Infused Knights, clad in shimmering elemental animas, moved into high positions on the rigging, to prepare themselves for leaping onto enemy ships in close in actions.

June had been in a great many wars in her hundred years of life.

And she knew that there was something other than just horribleness to the business. There was a majesty. A thriving energy. A driving beauty. But June never told another soul about it. Young men and women didn’t need any more encouragement to do incredibly foolish things. And with that, she whipped the bottled cloud from her belt and dashed it against the side of the Broadsword. The magic exploded from the bottle and the air ahead of them rippled and then bloomed with clouds, clouds that swept outwards in every direction. Within a moment, the sky before Samsara had become seeded with darkness.

June crouched down as cries came from the rest of the frigate. The crew were getting ready.

And so was she.

Once they were in the melee, she was going to find Goat who Wrestles.

And she was going to kill him so fucking hard.

Meanwhile, on the flagship of the Ninth Legion, the Lunars were all hugging one last time. Drawing apart, Ceaith tried to look as if she wasn’t concerned. “This is going to be easy as fuck,” she said.

“Did you have to punch Ember?” Xora asked, her voice soft.

Ceaith snorted. “You all saw him lie his stupid butt off, though?” She turned, shaking her head. “He was going to try and come with and he was going to get himself killed.” She shook her head again. “No. Not going to happen. Not on my watch.”

Chirp bit their lip. “What if he was trying to get Chosen again?”

They all looked at the Sari.

Chirp blushed. “An Unconquered is Chosen when they refuse to take the easy route three times,” they said, nodding. “Sitting out a battle is the easy route, right?” The shrugged. “It’s worth a shot, right. M-Maybe Ember would get Chosen again.”

Chirp shook her head. “No…no, Ember said that the Land was built by the Locust People as a resource trough.”

“For the last time!” Nova snapped from where she was fiddling with the hilt of her beamsword. She had sat down in the captain’s chair before One Eyed Razor had glared her off of it. Now she was in the corner, looking sulky, even as she twiddled with screws and adjusted focusing apertures with her other hand. “It wasn’t built by the Locust People. It was built by a joint alliance between the Ianers and the Neo-Suryan Front.” She shook her head. “Dead Gods, people. You might as well call me a Korvosan.”

“I don’t know what any of those people are!” Ceaith snapped.

“Well-” Nova started.

“Ladies!” One Eyed Razor barked. “Combat stations!”

The skyship began to pick up pace even more. The crew at their bridge stations exchanged a few terse comments — lost in the howl of the wind. The Lunars, moving as one, stepped up to stand nearest to the view port as they could manage without getting in the way. Through that viewport, they could see the sweep of the enemy fleet before them. Ceaith’s teeth skinned back into a grin as she saw that the heavy, wallowing battleships and the sleeker cruisers were all only barely into formation. They didn’t have total surprise. But they had something close to it.

“Lets do this,” Ceaith whispered.

***

Ember awoke with a low groan. His head felt as if someone had started drumming on him with the legs of a god, and his mouth tasted like salt. He shook his head and smacked his lips and tried to get his vision to see straight. Instead, all he saw was the red haze of a silken blanket. He writhed, squirmed, and finally managed to get himself out of the blankets. He was laying in a makeshift bed, with as much finery and comforts as could be contrived around him: There was a large sheet of silk, a few curtains, a golden brazier, and a small shrine to the local gods. Two men stood at the doorway.

“Hey!” Ember shouted.

Well.

He tried to shout. It came out as a groaning creak that barely sounded like language, let alone like himself. The two guards glanced back at him, then hurried forward. One knelt beside him. “Unconquered,” he said, his voice full of concern. Ember bristled at the honorific as his hand went to his aching jaw.

“My wife just knocked me unconscious,” he said, slowly, working his jaw as he did so. “Ow. Fuck.” He started to try and stand. The two men gently pushed him back onto the bed.

“Unconquered, we were given express orders,” the guardsman on the left said. “Ceaith was very clear about it, as was the rest of your wives. You are not to leave this tent.”

Ember scowled. “What, just because I’m an unpowered mortal?” he asked, his voice biting.

“Well, yes,” the guard on the right said. The guard on the left kicked him in the shin.

Ember scowled harder. “Listen,” he said. “If you expect me to stay behind while the whole world’s fate is on the line, you need to think again. Get. Out. Of. My. Way.” He tried to channel mana into his words. There had been a time, just a few days before, where doing that would have been effortless. Easy. But instead of mana, there was just the force of his own personality. It was simply not enough. The guards shook their heads.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

My story,THUNDER OF THE GODS, is a product of my imagination, although knowledge of certain aspects of the tale come from my experiences. In its entirety, it is ~ 45,000 words long, so I have chosen to release it in several parts, constituting a total of 19 chapters. This second part, Chapter 3, sets up the entire story, as does the increasing eroticism. The story’s evolving sexual situations build towards a bizarre denouement at the end.

Chapter 3

As darkness approached they arrived at their motel for the night, a quaintly romantic group of cabanas situated among the palms on the beach. It was located well off the highway, and for this reason seemed to receive few travelers. Philip had been told on a previous trip that at certain times of the year it did a good business with residents of nearby Veracruz, trying to escape the bustle of the city. Tonight it appeared virtually deserted, and Philip knew that they would have the beach to themselves. After checking into their room, they showered and changed before making their way to the small restaurant which was part of the motel. Lacee had changed into a pair of loose shorts and a modest halter top, still leaving a stimulating view of her burnished abdomen. Philip was equally comfortable in shorts and a T-shirt, suspecting that soon after eating he would be discarding them.

Their meal of baked fish, Veracruz-style was liberally laced with hot peppers, and Lacee smiled at him roguishly, quipping, “I think I’m getting that pepper blush,” as she seductively rotated her hips in her chair.

Philip responded by surreptitiously inserting a finger under her loose shorts to stroke her beckoning cunt. Feeling the escaping moisture, he rubbed her engorging labia with the natural lubricant, saying, “now I know why I like hot peppers so much!”

Philip withdrew his finger as the waiter returned to the table, but as he continued to eat he savored the fragrant musk enveloping his hand. They didn’t rush dinner, stopping afterwards to enjoy some rich Mexican coffee.

“It’s so great to be able to drink real coffee again,” Philip sighed.

Grinning, Lacee replied, “mmmh, and I have a feeling we’re going to need it for the night ahead.”

They left the restaurant about eight o’clock and headed down the deserted beach for an after dinner walk. The moon was just rising in the east, illuminating the breakers ceaselessly pounding the beach and casting a subdued glow over their world. They passed their cabana and strolled along the water’s edge hand in hand, each seemingly lost in their thoughts, but secure in the knowledge that they were in love. After about a quarter mile, Philip stopped and drew Lacee to him, stroking her silky hair and gently kissing her lips. They had explored each other’s bodies enough to be familiar with the terrain, and each knew that they were destined to be together for a long time, so they didn’t attempt to rush things. Totally alone on the moonlit beach, there was no reason for them to remain clothed, and they both relished the seductive touch of the night air as they shed their unnatural skins. For several minutes Philip held Lacee at arm’s length, drinking in her nubile perfection in the silvery moonglow. He turned her around with anticipation, gently pulling her up against him and enveloping her in his arms.

As their passion rose and organs responded, they gazed out upon the endless, shimmering sea. Philip cupped her pliant breasts, encircling her nipples with roughened fingers that treated them like delicate archaeological treasures. As her reciprocating bosom plied her body with ripples of pleasure, she thrust her buttocks backwards to enfold his upthrust shaft in the crevice. While he continued to massage her insistent nipples, she repeatedly clenched and stroked his throbbing organ with her grasping globes, now well-lubricated with the pre-cum syrup escaping from its inflamed eye. Philip placed his hands on Lacee’s hips and lifted to position her slippery cleft on his rigid pole, moving her back and forth along the top as if she were sliding on a banister.

Lacee began moaning loudly, “Philip, Philip!”, as she reached behind and grasped his muscled cheeks with both hands, thrusting her buttocks in unison with his movements. Her lips were swollen and oozing with a mixture of their juices, and steaming from the friction of his muscular beam. She finally dropped to the sand, groaning, “mount me from behind, Philip. Please put out the fire in me!”

By now he was practically blinded with passion, his ravenous member pulsating like a lighthouse beacon searching for lost ships. As he dropped to his knees, Lacee grasped his turgid prick, hungrily pushing it into her waiting oven. Philip shuddered at the ravenous clutch of her heated cum-tunnel, and he plunged forward to fill her with the full length of his shaft.

She purred throatily, “owrr-r-r-r, owrr-r-r-r, owr-r-r-r,” as she thrust backwards and forwards. He felt his swollen balls tighten kütahya escort as his system sought release. His frustrated loins had waited so long to praise Lacee’s body, and with a groan escaping his lips, his pumping shaft gushed forth a torrent of cream into her fiery furnace.

She dropped forward into the soft sand in utter exhaustion, leaving his glistening organ spewing a cascade of steaming balm onto her clenching buttocks. When his long-awaited eruption finally ceased, Philip bent over to massage his balm into her glistening orbs. He rolled her over and helped her to sit up, barely able to do so himself.

They both smiled wanly, Philip gasping, “I couldn’t control myself any longer Lacee. I’ve been waiting so long for this.”

Still breathing heavily, she responded, “I was just as eager as you, Philip. It seems like I’ve been awaiting this moment for ages, and yet I feel that I already know every inch of you!”

As Philip pulled Lacee to her feet, he noticed that the front of her body was covered in sand, including her velvet pelt, which was now saturated with their combined juicy salutes to one another. They were both eager to continue their libidinous endeavors, but, deciding that the abrasive sand might be a little too stimulating on their inflamed instruments, they settled on a soothing interlude in the sea. Neither was willing to venture too far into the pounding surf.

Lacee joked, “You had better be careful. That dangling lure might look like a good meal to a passing shark.”

She wrapped her legs around Philip’s waist and her arms around his neck, and they bobbed in waist deep water while it assuaged their ravished bodies. When they both began to feel drowsily relaxed they made their way to shore and retrieved their forgotten clothes. Flushed in their briny nudity, they raced back to the cabana, stopping at the doorway for a probing kiss. Once inside the cabana, they headed for the shower to wash away the sand, salt, and remaining juices from their seaside encounter. Fortunately, the shower was well-supplied with hot water, often a rarity in these parts, and they were able to linger under its relaxing spray. Philip soaped Lacee thoroughly from head to toe, paying special attention to her raven-haired triangle and returning it to its silken beauty by running a comb through it.

He crouched in front of her on the floor, saying, “I think your oven needs a good cleaning.”

Filling his mouth with water from the shower spray, Philip parted her glowing lips to flush the remaining sand and musky mixture from her love channel. When he finished rinsing and fondling Lacee, she proceeded to lather him up, devoting extra time to his awakening shaft. She soaped it vigorously, making sure to remove all the sand, especially from the thick bush adorning its base. Lacee fondled his pendant cream forges as she carefully scrubbed the rift between his buttocks, playfully tickling his puckered porthole with her fingers.

Lacee soon finished rinsing off the soap from Philip’s body, and moved in front of him to address his demanding manhood, noting, “your friend here seems to have boundless energy, and I think we need to tire him out some more.”

Comfortably warmed by the tepid water spilling off their bodies, she dropped to her knees and placed both hands under his scrotum, teasingly dragging her nails over his heavy spheres and continuing along the underside of his agitated column. By the time she reached the tip, its cyclopean eye had begun to drool on her sensitive thighs, and she was compelled to engulf its swollen head with her full lips. Lacee slowly slid her mouth forward, enveloping less than half of his shaft before reaching her limit. She paid silent homage to her lower mouth, which had hungrily swallowed his entire offering. Her upper cavern, however, had the extra benefit of her tongue and teeth, which she used effectively to further inflame his questing rod. Philip rocked back on his heels, his knees began to buckle, and he knew he could not delay an eruption much longer.

Gasping, he asked, “wait, please. Let me return the favor to you before I lose this load! I want you to come to a peak at the same time.”

They quit the shower and vigorously toweled off one another before moving to the large bed. Wind dried sheets enfolded them in an aura of fresh sea air, giving them the feeling of renewed vigor. Lacee eased back onto the bed, her long black hair framing her radiant face. She spread her bronzed legs, drawing them up to fully expose her pouting lips, which still glowed from their workout at the beach. Philip stopped briefly at the end of the bed to gaze appreciatively at her lambent labia, already glistening with dewdrops of anticipation.

“You are truly a Maya princess,” he murmured.

Moving forward, he buried his face between Lacee’s thighs, breathing deeply of her musky female fragrance. He pulled back and began licking the malatya escort sides of her furry vale, gradually coming closer and closer to her blushing lips. He lightly encircled her cleft with his stiffened tongue, causing her to clamp down on his head with her thighs. She pushed her hips upward, bringing her puckered brown dell into range of his tongue. He smiled at her wantonness, and obliged by ringing it with his tongue and fluttering it at the entrance, producing a moan that came from deep within Lacee’s body.

Philip arose to sit back on his haunches, using both hands to lift Lacee’s buttocks and bring her fully opened cleft to his mouth. Like a snake entering a hole to seek its prey, his tongue probed deeply to explore the depths of her love grotto. After at least fifteen minutes, during which time no fold or fissure was left untouched, Philip returned to earth for air. Any more of the intoxicating perfume from Lacee’s pubic flower would have caused him to faint with pleasure. By this time, both of them were burning from within, and Lacee knew it was time to consummate this round. Philip’s breath was coming in short gasps, and she could feel her heart pounding between her legs.

She opened her arms and legs wide, urging him, “please come into me now Philip. I need to feel your power deep within me!”

His engorged organ paused briefly at the doorway to her ebony cloaked nest, and then plunged inward to fill her awaiting cavern. He slowly began working his shaft in and out, leaning forward to suckle and nip Lacee’s rigid nipples.

Gradually their tempo increased until they were both nearing explosions, and Lacee gasped in shortened breaths, “pull out and let me see you come!”

At the last moment, Philip pulled noisily out of her grasping cleft, as a torrent of creamy liquid exploded from the tip of his pumping lance. Her belly and raven pelt were covered with his steaming syrup, which she proceeded to rub into her skin with both hands, occasionally licking her fingers to remove the excess lotion dripping from his shaft.

By this time it was almost midnight, and they drifted off into well-earned slumber locked in each other’s arms. Three more times during the night they awakened, and each time their bodies responded with loving tumescence and discharge. Both experienced a bewildering mixture of sexual pleasure and dreamy visions of Maya symbolism and exotic odors, at the same time both disturbing and enticing to them in their night of passion.

As the morning sunlight streamed through the open windows, Lacee and Philip slept deeply in a jumble of limbs, the bedsheets soaked in the musk of their nocturnal passion.

They finally left the motel around eleven o’clock, satiated and happy to be back on the road again. Reaching Veracruz city a little after noon, they were pleasantly surprised at the ease with which they traversed the city. Unlike most Mexican cities, Veracruz had survived the frenzied expansion of the last twenty years with a minimum of cultural disturbance.

Time had taken its toll, however, and Philip said to Lacee, “when I was much younger and exploring southern Mexico, I once rode the streetcars of the city almost all night drinking in the atmosphere. My friends and I dined for practically nothing on plates of stone crab claws and huge shrimp and oyster cocktails with exquisite hot sauces. I’m afraid, however, that growth and greed, those twin engines of Mexican destruction, have eliminated much of what was good, even in a traditionally conservative place like Veracruz.”

Beyond Veracruz city they crossed the Rio Papaloapan, ‘River of Butterflies’, high above it on a modern bridge. Fortunately for Philip, he had made the trip in the past when the only mode of transport was a ferry and you could actually see the butterflies. He did not begrudge the Mexicans the right to faster transportation, but he could see little evidence that it had done anything to help the common man. Overpopulation was strangling Mexico, with crowded peasants now forced into farming the highway right of ways. The government’s only response was the relocation of rapidly reproducing peoples into areas of primary forest. Here they quickly destroyed the forest, soon wearing out the soil and making it fit only for grazing the cattle of wealthy landowners, who, not surprisingly, were supporters of the government leaders.

Not far beyond the Papaloapan they began to catch glimpses of isolated mountains, and Philip appeared agitated with anticipation.

“This is Los Tuxtlas,” he informed Lacee, “home to one of the earliest Mexican civilizations, the Olmecs. I spent several summers here in my youth engaged in archeological studies of the Olmec civilization, and we visited many of the villages of the mountains and surrounding lowlands documenting the existence of ruins. The Olmecs are best known for their gigantic carved stone heads at such sites as La Venta batman escort and Tres Zapotes. They appear to have elevated jaguars, or their powers, to supernatural heights, a practice that was apparently adopted slightly later by the neighboring Maya.”

“So I guess that makes the Olmecs my cultural ancestors,” said Lacee. “I wondered why I liked the look of this area.”

Philip indicated that they would be able to spend the night at a secluded motel on the shores of Lake Catemaco, one of the most beautiful lakes in Mexico.

“It’s actually a caldera from an ancient volcano,” he explained, “and now the lake is rimmed with once-forested hills and mountains, fighting to hold their own against a growing human population.”

As they approached the lake at dusk, it was evident that even the saddening deforestation could not totally erase the magic of the lake. Having already eaten at a small restaurant in the town of Catemaco, Lacee and Philip proceeded directly to their room in the motel. Isolated at the end of the unit, their second floor room had a breath-taking view of the lake almost directly below them. As squawking night herons begged darkness to descend upon them, fishermen returning at dusk in their boats gave the scene an air of peacefulness. They draped their grateful bodies in lounge chairs on the balcony to drink in the pageant unfolding before them. As darkness fell, isolating their balcony in the night, Lacee moved to Philip’s chair, dropping her halter and shorts as she did so.

“This is beautiful here,” she whispered, “I can see now why you love this area so much.”

She straddled him at the waist and leaned forward to brush her breasts against his lips, saying, “I want to give you something else to remember about this spot.”

Philip responded by ringing her areolas with his ardent tongue and sliding his hands along her silky body to her rotating buttocks. Grasping each globe, he massaged them gently, working his fingers inward to position them at the entrance to her waiting furnace. He caressed, fingered, and fondled Lacee for almost half an hour, as he fought to contain her squirming body on the lounge chair. At last she broke free, urging his body upwards.

“Why don’t we move indoors to that comfortable bed,” she suggested.

Philip’s few clothes were soon on the floor, and Lacee had him lie backwards on the bed. She spread his legs, her head appearing between them from below like a cat approaching a mouse. With feline fluidity she grasped his upright column, using its muscular rigidity to pull herself up to its impressive head.

“This is truly a kingly staff,” she said leering at him.

With her salivating tongue, she began to navigate its prominent brow, greedily licking at the syrup drooling from its mouth. Lacee slowly moved her lips downward along the underside of his staff, eventually coming to rest on his bulging satchel. One by one, she engulfed and tongued his loaded spheres, all the while pumping up and down with both hands on his slippery shaft. Yesterday’s physiological desperation was gone from them both, and Philip was able to contain his eruption while relishing the pleasure emanating from his groin. At last, her face glistening with the nectar oozing from Philip’s upwelling fountain, she moved forward to position her expectant lips over his rigid staff. Easing her questing nether lips downward to him, Lacee groaned with pleasure as she grasped and plunged his lance inward, as it slowly spewed gobs of cream into her crevice.

As her radiant body fell forwards, she moaned, “I love the feeling when we couple, Philip.”

He responded with a thrust that carried her impaled body aloft again. “I’ve got more for you!”

Gasping, she groaned, “it’s as if I have an empty pit below, and only your massive shaft can fill it. We were made for each other, Philip!”

They both moved with increasing urgency, with Philip thrusting upwards with mounting force as Lacee rode his column like a bucking bronco. Just as it seemed she might be thrown from her lunging mount, his bursting spheres erupted with a fountain of cream, again propelled forcefully into the depths of her enveloping tunnel by his surging shaft . She responded with a scream that startled the nearby night herons, and as the aroused birds returned the salute, her juices coursed down Philip’s rigid manhood to saturate his fleece.

Totally spent, Philip lay under Lacee, his relaxed organ slumbering in her humid haven. They remained this way for almost an hour, dozing in their satiated state while the frogs guarding the lakeshore announced their own amorous intentions. Lacee finally detached herself from Philip, her flushed cleft oozing with the whipped cream of their pubic rendezvous. She slipped past Philip to the shower, where the tepid water refreshed her skin and rejuvenated her loins. This completed, she toweled herself off and moved to the rail of the balcony, where she gazed out at the lake, now gleaming under the rising moon. Her thoughts drifted back to Northbury, now so far away, and to when she first met Philip. It was hard to believe that it was only four months ago, and she marveled at the depths their relationship had reached in such a short time. It seemed now that they had known each other forever and that their love was timeless.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

The trio lay cuddled up together comfortably in bed. John and Alyssa were both greatly relieved that Calara had taken their surprising revelation so well.

“There is one thing though…” Calara said tentatively after a few moments.

“What is it Calara?” John asked, his voice tinged with concern.

“I still haven’t seen the bridge yet! I’m not going to be much good as a Tactical Officer if you don’t let me out of the bedroom” she said, grinning impishly.

Alyssa’s musical laughter was joined by John’s baritone chuckles. “Ok honey, we can go now if you want?” he offered obligingly.

Calara could barely contain her excitement as they got dressed. John waited patiently for the girls to leave the room, before following after them and turning off the lights as he left. The lovely teenagers headed down the corridor to the elevator, chatting animatedly and he admired the enticing sway of their hips as they walked. They stood together in the lift and the girl’s chatter fell quiet as Calara’s anticipation grew palpable.

The door to the elevator whirred quietly open and they walked out on to the bridge together for the first time.

“Wow!!” Calara gasped, her big brown eyes like saucers as she took in the large oval shaped bridge.

Alyssa darted nimbly up the illuminated steps to the command podium and sat in the Executive Officers chair. She pressed a couple of buttons on her console and the Tactical station, down and to the left of her, burst in to life. Two long curving consoles began to fill with a welcoming glow, as one control panel after another lit up.

John walked up to the awestruck Latina’s side and rested his hand reassuringly on her shoulder.

“Take your post Lieutenant” he said to her quietly.

Calara turned to face him as she came out of her reverie. “At once Commander!” she said, her sharp salute and the intense look in her eyes silently conveying her deep respect for him.

Alyssa watched the two and rolled her eyes. She smiled, but stayed quiet, letting them have their moment.

John climbed the steps of the podium and sat in the Commander’s chair, watching with a smile on his face as Calara eagerly strode towards her new station. She sat in the elaborate Tactical chair and pressed a sequence of buttons on the armrest, powering up her seat. Holographic targeting arrays sprang into being in front of her, as two illuminated controls slowly rose from the armrests.

Alyssa had brought the Holo-reader with her and she walked down to the Tactical station to offer it to Calara, just in case she needed it to learn how to use the controls. The brunette politely declined and so Alyssa just stood and watched intrigued as the brunette gripped the arm rest controls confidently with each hand.

“This is just like the simulator back at the Academy!”, the brunette said excitedly.

She pressed a couple of buttons and large holographic images sprang to life in the middle of the bridge, displaying tactical information for her crewmates to see. An image of the Invictus rotated slowly before them, looking sleek and menacing. Calara flipped a safety switch and then pushed a foreboding looking red button on the top of her right controller.

Armoured panels on the hull of the Invictus began to slide away, revealing the hidden arsenal beneath.

“Weapons armed, Commander.” Calara stated, following standard Terran Federation protocol.

“Laser defence net” Calara explained helpfully, as dozens of stubby Gatling lasers spun up, the Image of the Invictus showing their many overlapping fields of fire. “To take out missiles and fighters” she added for Alyssa’s benefit, John already being familiar with the assault cruisers capabilities.

“Pulse lasers” Calara said, as the overhead image displayed the broad fire arcs of the turreted laser cannons. “Medium range and designed to take out lightly armoured targets” she clarified for the blonde teenager.

“Beam lasers” Calara stated, as she cycled through the massive firepower at her fingertips. “Long range and powerful enough to punch through heavy shielding”. The rotating image in the centre of the bridge showed the six forward facing Beam lasers, each barrel over 30 metres in length.

“Finally the Invictus’ main guns” She said, with a gleam in her eye. She cycled through to the last setting, and two pairs of 200 metre long cannons were highlighted on the glowing holograph. It was obvious that the ship had been built around these enormous weapons, with power converters and ordnance feeding rooms built adjacent to them.

“Mass drivers, for when you really want to fuck something up!” Calara exclaimed, her youthful exuberance momentarily getting the better of her military professionalism.

“Want to perform a fire test Lieutenant?” John asked, the young brunette’s enthusiasm proving contagious. Calara nodded eagerly.

“XO, any asteroid belts near here?” he asked the beautiful blonde.

Alyssa strode purposefully back up to her console and bayburt escort began searching through the systems closest to their current location.

“There’s an uninhabited asteroid field in this system Commander” she replied, getting caught up in their excitement.

“Lay in a course please, Alyssa” John ordered.

A short while later, the Invictus dropped out of hyper warp, the exposed barrels looking like teeth bared in a snarl as it prowled closer to its unwitting victims. The unsuspecting asteroids drifted and rotated slowly, as though performing an intricate dance with one another.

Calara focused intently on the targeting grids in front of her. “Firing beams!” she said excitedly as her finger caressed the trigger on the right control. Six lances of coruscating energy blasted outwards and sliced an enormous tumbling asteroid in half. The chunks separated cleanly, each half glowing from the heat of the incision.

“Main guns!” She cried out, as she cycled through the weapons and unloaded the Mass drivers. The Invictus trembled with the recoil, as the 200 metre long magnetic coils accelerated the shells to Hyper warp velocity. Two sets of massive impacts punched into each of the split asteroid chunks causing spectacular craters, before the shells detonated a second later. The two halves of the asteroid detonated into a thousand pieces, devastated by the colossal explosions.

“Pulse lasers!” Calara gasped, as the turreted laser cannons began to track and vaporise the larger asteroid fragments in a cascade of bright energy blasts.

“Point defence!” Calara panted, as ribbons of laser fire erupted around the Invictus, the Gatling lasers opening up on the pitiful remnants of the once majestic asteroid.

Alyssa watched in awe as the destructive power of the Cruiser was finally unleashed. She had never before witnessed firepower of this magnitude and it scared her more than a little. She was lost in her thoughts as she looked out over the hazy field of gravel, all that remained of the once huge tumbling asteroid.

Calara’s eyes shone with excitement as she grinned up at John, looking for his approval. He loved how vibrant and full of life she looked, as she thrilled at the chance to be in control of such a powerful ship. “Lieutenant, to my ready room” he ordered brusquely.

“Yes Commander” she gasped excitedly, as she practically ran to meet him when he stepped down from the command podium and they entered the adjoining room together.

Alyssa’s quiet contemplation was broken by the sound of excited feminine gasps and the rhythmic slap of flesh upon flesh. Coming back to full awareness, she laughed to herself as she brought up the Navigation display and set the ship off again on their previous course. She sat the Holo-reader on her console and followed its instructions, powering down the weapons and resealing the armoured hull of the Invictus. Once she was satisfied that everything was in order, she got up and followed the lusty noises coming from the Commander’s ready room, unzipping the top of her form fitting jumpsuit as she went.

She found Calara kneeling on one of the sofas, grasping the back tightly in her hands. Her mouth hung open as she panted lustily, her head pulled back by John’s strong left handed grip of her long dark hair. The beautiful Latina was nude and her skin glistened with sweat as John pounded in and out of her yielding body.

John’s other hand was resting on the taut, coffee coloured skin of Calara’s right ass cheek. He had thrust his entire length into her, right up to the Quad and then pulled back before driving forward again powerfully. The panting brunette moaned loudly as the broad crown of his weighty cock pushed deep into her body, stretching her pussy wide open to accommodate him. She let out a grunt as the invading monster forced its way deep into her belly, until its throbbing head was cradled snugly in her uterus.

Alyssa stepped over the hastily discarded piles of clothes and walked up to their side, running her hand under the panting brunette’s body. Her delicate touch felt the warm bulge in the Latina’s otherwise toned, flat stomach.

“I can feel you deep in her womb John” She purred, massaging his jerking head gently as he held himself still, deep in Calara’s body.

“Does it feel good breaking in another tight teenager?” She asked him provocatively.

“Uh-huh, She’s gripping me like a fist!” he grunted, as he pulled back and drove forward again.

Calara cried out with pleasure, the innermost places of her body yielding to her man willingly.

“How about you honey?” Alyssa asked the lovely brunette. “Does it feel good?”

Calara tried to nod, but was unable to, what with her head pulled back and her body held so tightly in place. “His cock is so big… never had anything so deep in me before…” she groaned helplessly.

Alyssa got down on her knees and then ducked under John’s swaying balls between bartın escort his widely parted legs. He had the brunette’s thighs spread wide open as he thrust away, so it meant that Alyssa had plenty of room to manoeuvre. She slid under Calara’s body facing upwards, and arched her back so she could support John’s throbbing balls on her big firm tits. She was at the perfect angle to see where his mighty girthed shaft had spread the Latina much wider than she ever had been before. The beautiful blonde lapped away at the tightly stretched skin, making it easier for her friend to take the pounding.

“Oooohhhhhh!” Calara moaned when feeling the soft, wet delicate touch on her overheated pussy.

The friction from where her body was gripping John’s cock so snugly had been heating her up and the blondes tongue felt cool and soothing on her taut skin. She could only screw her eyes tightly shut and wail out her orgasm, when her beautiful blonde friend began to lap gently at her clit, the sensitive little organ throbbing uncontrollably.

John pushed inside the lovely brunette, enjoying the feel of her rippling pussy as it flexed along his length. He held still as far inside her as he could go and stopped to relish the rhythmic grip of her tight young body.

Alyssa backed off for a moment and as soon as Calara came down from one orgasm, the blonde’s rapidly moving tongue was back and licking her clit again. The Latina could only scream with pleasure as her sensitive body reacted to Alyssa’s unrelenting mouth and she writhed helplessly as she came hard a second time.

John held the spasming brunette tightly in place and enjoyed the sucking motions of her tight little pussy, as Alyssa made her come over and over again. As Calara sobbed through her fourth continuous climax, he felt Alyssa’s tongue lick and caress his balls, as though encouraging them in their efforts. The stimulation from both the provocative teenagers was too much for him to resist and he felt his quad tense up as they prepared to unload.

“Aaaahhhh!” He groaned in time with Calara’s yelping release, as he began to pump the athletic teenager full of his cum.

Alyssa had the perfect view to watch the massive cock throbbing purposefully as it delivered its precious cargo directly into the Latina’s womb. She cradled the brunette’s rapidly expanding stomach, as it provided a warm home for his hefty load of spunk. Eventually John’s balls stopped twitching where they lay cradled on Alyssa’s chest and she gently moved out from under them.

John helped Calara flop down on the sofa, her breath ragged as she recovered from the relentless chain of orgasms. He collapsed on to the sofa at her side, resting his hand possessively on the taut skin of her olive toned stomach.

“Massage her tummy for me please John?” Alyssa said as she gracefully slid between the brunette’s limp legs and gently hooked them over her shoulders. She tentatively licked the exhausted teenager’s swollen labia, while John’s hand moved in firm but gentle circles over the girl’s rounded young belly. Calara’s body relaxed enough to gradually release his load and Alyssa sucked away at the brunette’s pussy, enjoying the heady taste of his sweet spunk as she filled her stomach with his delicious seed.

Eventually Calara’s laden tummy had deflated and Alyssa rose from between the Latina’s thighs, her cheeks bulging. She moved forward on to the sofa so she was kneeling astride the blissed out brunette and cupped her face in her hands, as she leaned in for a kiss. John could see Calara’s throat move as she greedily swallowed the mouthful of cum Alyssa had just passed to her.

“Was the Commander ready for that?” Alyssa asked him with a lazy, well satisfied smile on her face.

John laughed good naturedly. “No honey, you’re full of surprises!” he grinned.

They eventually regrouped in the shower, with Alyssa and John helping the exhausted Calara get squeaky clean. They took her back to their bedroom and the trio settled in for the night.

The next few days established a routine for the crew of the Invictus. Alyssa wanted to work on her marksmanship, so she spent most of her time training at the firing range. Calara was keen to spend more time getting familiar with her tactical station, so she spent a lot of her day on the bridge. John had used a lot of his time aboard the Fool’s Gold performing cleaning and maintenance, but the Invictus had a suite of Cleaning Robots who scrubbed the floors meticulously clean. Even for someone with his exceptionally low tolerance for dirt onboard his ship, he had to admit they did a phenomenal job.

This meant John had a lot of free time to spend at the pool, which he was enjoying immensely. He had kept himself in pretty good shape by being so active on his freighter, but muscles he hadn’t really used in years soon reminded him that he could do a better job with his fitness.

The highlight of his day was meeting ığdır escort up with the girl’s for meal times. They would chat and get to know each other better as they relaxed in the Officer’s lounge. John enjoyed being able to have long, interesting conversations with Alyssa, as she didn’t have her mouth full for a change. That honour belonged to Calara and Alyssa would stroke the girl’s thick dark brown hair lovingly, as the beautiful Latina knelt between John’s legs and bobbed her head in his lap. Calara was getting three massive meals a day and she loved running her hands over her cum packed belly after he topped her up. She marvelled at how her malleable body was able to expand to hold such a gut-busting feast and how her stomach reverted to its prior toned self a few hours later.

A week raced by and one morning Alyssa and John had a surprise for Calara. As soon as she was awake, they called her in to their walk-in-wardrobe and ushered her over to stand nude in the middle of the room. From here, the cunningly designed mirrors allowed the person in their focus to view themselves from all angles.

“They’re all gone!” Alyssa clapped excitedly, causing Calara to twist around to look at her body in the reflections.

The swelling on her nose had already cleared up completely a week before, as had the bruising around her ribs, but her flayed back had taken a good while to heal. She looked at the reflection of her back, amazed to see only beautiful, unblemished young skin. The girl’s eyes filled up when she saw how thoroughly her friends had helped restore her body.

“Thank you so much, I feel so happy!” She said, on the verge of tears. The erasing of her scars felt like the horrible events from her past had been erased too.

Alyssa stepped lithely up to the Latina and enfolded her in a warm hug, her own eyes filling with tears at the heart warming moment. John was only a step behind in moving to embrace his grateful young lover, when he stopped suddenly. He stepped back instead so that he could view both the nude teenagers clearly. Was he just letching you might ask? Well yes, but only because he had noticed some other significant changes in the young girl.

“Take another look at your body, Calara” he prompted gently. “Compare yourself with Alyssa”.

The brunette looked a bit embarrassed, knowing she was nowhere near as hot as the ravishingly beautiful blonde. She reluctantly took another look in the mirrors as she stood at Alyssa’s side, ready for the hopelessly unfair comparison.

“Oh my goodness!” She gasped in shock.

Alyssa was very slightly taller at 5’9″ compared to the Latina’s new 5’8″ height. Other than their distinctive, beautiful faces and their strikingly different skin tone, their youthful bodies were almost identical.

They each had a set of large, firm 32D breasts, a slim waist and flared hips that resulted in a breathtaking hourglass figure. Their bottoms were round and pert, perfect globes that sat at the top of long, finely muscled, elegant legs. Their skin was perfectly smooth and free of all blemishes of any kind.

John walked around them both, whistling appreciatively as Calara modelled her gorgeous dusky hued figure in the mirrors.

“You both look stunningly beautiful” he said admiringly to the two teens, delivering his final verdict.

Alyssa smiled at him lovingly and moved gracefully to stand on his right side, matched in her movements by Calara who moved to his left. They stood on tip toe and each kissed one of his cheeks tenderly. He looked at his reflection, at the man smiling in wonder at the ravishing young women leaning in to kiss his face softly. He managed to tear his eyes away to watch the girls, as they walked back to the bedroom hand in hand, looking over their shoulders at him coyly.

He recognised that look and so did his cock. It rose to full hardness, eager to be pushed into the warm and welcoming embrace of the female flesh presented before him.

He lost sight of them for a moment as they glided into the bedroom, so he strode after them to follow. He found the luscious girls standing by the side of the bed, waiting for him. He walked up to them, his heart beginning to beat faster as his body prepared for the activity to come. The beautiful teenagers were taller now than when he first met either of them, but at 6’2″ he still towered over them both.

He leaned down and gently kissed the exquisitely beautiful blonde, before switching to the gorgeously exotic brunette. His eager hands moved to caress each of their pert buttocks, their taut, wonderfully firm young flesh yielding to the strong and insistent grip of his massaging fingers. Both their hips began to writhe as they responded to their man’s touch, their youthful bodies instinctively knowing that they were about to be used.

John broke away from Calara’s lovely soft lips and both girl’s looked up at him adoringly as they waited to see what he wanted to do next. He used his firm hold on the bottoms to gently push the two teenagers together, until their toned tummies were touching each other. From his vantage point above them, he could see four big tits below him. When they were pushed together, their nipples disappeared from view as the proud breasts swelled against each other. It was a breathtaking sight that made his cock throb excitedly.

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Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Mountain of the Daemon’s

Blackness enveloped him, he blinked his eyes but no vision returned. His tongue felt swollen in his dry mouth and his throat made a dry clicking noise as he tried to swallow. He tried to lift an arm but they remained fixed at his sides. A turn of the head yielded the same response. ‘Had I done so wrong in my past that Gorgaroth has punished me?’ He thought, the giant had crushed him, shattered him yet he fought on to his dying breath taking the monstrosity to his grave, had it not been enough for Gorgaroth? Despair was quickly rising in him, his heart beating faster. Wait, his heart? He took a deep breath and took in cold, clean air with no sense of pain. The stories spoke of a life without the need of mortal trappings, no water, no food and no air. So why was he breathing?

“Hello,” He called out, his voice cracked and husky no more than a harsh bark. He coughed and tried again. The call echoed around him but no response. Yet he felt someone was there, lurking in the blackness. “I know you are there, I may be dead but my senses are just as keen as they were when I walked on the soil.”

The laugh was quiet, not mocking his statement but finding amusement in it, he felt movement to his right, the air swirling and creating a draft over his skin. ‘Naked, I am naked in the black.’ He realized. “And how do you come by this conclusion that you are dead Lucan of Aldemar.” The woman’s voice was soft. He sensed that she was very close now. “Do you not breathe? Do you not taste the air about you?” A hand, as gentle as the air brushed along his fingers, wrist and up his arm. “Do you not feel? Then how did you decide you were dead?”

“I cannot see and I cannot move these are the traits of death. If I can see and I can move then I implore you to make it so.” Sun light, strong and powerful appeared as a heavy cloth was pulled from his face. His head was still held rigid as was the rest of his body, but he had his sight back for what it was worth. The ceiling was visible, stone work held firm only one wall could be seen which led him to believe he was in a large room. The sunlight was from behind him, a window. “I cannot move.” He said.

A face appeared above him, red hair tied back, full lips and pale grey eyes. “Your wounds needed time to heal. Restraints had to be used once the fever and delirium had taken hold of you.” He felt both her hands running across his body. Pushing gently at his ribs then to his abdomen, he felt one finger run along a scar that he could not remember having before. “I shall remove the restraints, but try not to move too much.” He felt the leather bindings begin to loosen around his legs and thighs. “You have been asleep a long time.”

The woman was actually a girl not much older than eighteen Lucan guessed, helped him sit up which had seemed to be such a chore as if he were new to sitting up. “How do you know my name?” Lucan asked.

“When the delirium took control you were like a mad man, screaming your name and the names of your fathers and that you would take revenge on all.” She went on to explain how they had to grapple him to the ground and knock him unconscious before they could strap him to the table. Lucan winced with embarrassment but the girl took it as a signal of pain and tried to lie him back down.

“No, no I am fine, the delirium thankfully is blocked from my memory I apologize for my outbursts,” He placed one unsteady foot down feeling the cold stone beneath, then his other foot before raising himself. The girl steadied him as best she could he stood over six feet tall. He noticed his nakedness and reached to cover himself.

The girl laughed, “I may be a girl but I am aware of the male form, you do not embarrass me.” He looked at her and finally took in what she was wearing. She wore a sheer gown that fastened high on the neck and ran to her feet where it trailed a few inches onto the stone ground. What was surprising was how see through it was. Her breasts were perfectly round, with dusky pink nipples and he could make out a full bush that matched the girl’s hair colour. “As you can see, we of the house of Dianna are not easily embarrassed.”

He had begun to harden at the sight of her form but at the mention of the house he reflexively pulled away from her, his right hand going to his waist looking for the hilt of his sword exposing his slightly engorged penis. Lucan’s eyes flicked to the window, how high were they, could he jump and survive.

“You have heard of our House then.” The voice came from the left, a stout wooden door had been opened and a woman stood there, her blonde hair pulled back behind her head. She wore the same sheer gown the sunlight revealing her nakedness underneath. Two other women entered the room, dressed the same as the blonde woman except they held long deadly spears. “Lucan of Aldemar welcome to the house of Dianna.”

They left the room and while the girl had gone in one direction Lucan walked with the woman who had introduced herself as Cazadora, High artvin escort priestess of Dianna. The guards stayed close behind. They had handed him one of the gowns which barely fit his frame, the house of Dianna was one of only a handful of all female houses. Dianna was one of the old gods, she stood shoulder to shoulder with Gorgaroth at the birth of the world, some of the older tomes even dared to name Dianna as the mother of the world, Gorgaroth filling her womb with his seed and the world birthed from between Dianne’s legs. That was before the Crusaders had burned such tomes. Yet people still believed and witches as they were commonly known in Aldemar still worshiped the goddess and practiced what was surely dark magic. And here he was Lucan, Crusader of Aldemar trapped inside their coven awaiting a terrible fate.

Cazadora spoke with ease as she told him how he was brought there by three of her priestess’. Death had been encircling him but they had managed to fix what they could before the fever and delirium. “I had my doubts when you were brought here, so I apologize to you for not having faith in a Crusader.” She said eyeing him up and down as they walked. Once he was there they had worked a spell to keep him under while his body healed and they had helped where possible with elixirs and more potent spells. He was surprised to hear he had been under for almost six months, no wonder he had felt so weak.

As they walked Lucan looked out of the open arched windows that lined the corridor, the sky was a deep blue and a snow capped mountain range rose in vicious peaks towards it. The two largest peaks, Daemon’s Horns dominated the skyline. They had taken him south from the battlefield all the way to the land’s end. As they walked priestess’s of all ages and ilk bowed gently and whispered “mother” to Cazadora, to some she stopped for a moment resting a hand on their head a silent prayer moving her lips before they carried on.

They finally reached a great oak door adorned with engraved shapes of huntresses riding on giant steeds. Here another guard stood and like the two trailing them held a long deadly tipped spear at the sight of the High priestess the guard unbolted the door and opened it. Only Cazadora and Lucan entered. The door shut firmly behind them, the sound of the bolt engaging was muffled by the thick wood.

This was Cazadora’s own chambers, to one side lay a large bedstead opposite which was an archway that led into another room which Lucan peered into. Books lined most of the walls and in the centre a small table and chair, a candle burnt brightly yet no wax dripped from it. “Many of those books would be lost to time had we not rescued them from war, famine and the less enlightened who walk this world.” Lucan said nothing, letting the remark roll off him as he studied the room. “You are not marked for death Lucan of Aldemar. We would not waste our time healing you simply to kill you, so your time spent looking for a weapon or an escape are wasted”

Lucan let himself smile at this. ‘A Witch she may well be but a warrior most certainly.’ he thought. “Then why am I here?” he asked out loud.

She smiled, “Our Goddess Dianna simply wants the return of items that are precious to her house.” She stood only a bit shorter than him and when she stepped closer to him their eyes were almost level. “Your Crusaders have taken possession of items that are very dear to us and we want you to return them.” She circled him one hand trailing across him, touching his skin and muscle beneath the fabric of the gown. “What the Crusaders took, a Crusader shall return.” She stood directly behind him. He turned his head slightly trying to catch a glimpse of her. His body tensed as he waited for the feel of cold steel at his back. It never came.

Instead he felt both her hands run up his back and over his shoulders, they slipped down his arms, momentarily she let go only to place her hands on either side of his waist. “And if I refuse?” He asked hoarsely, he tried to control himself, but felt his penis stiffening the more her touch lingered on him.

The laugh turned his blood cold. “A cursed man does not walk from this House easily.” He spun round, grabbing both her wrists. She let out a gasp of surprise at his speed rather than the vice like grip. “You are a free to return our items as you see fit, but I am Cazadora, high priestess of Dianna and I see far. The moment you deviate from the path or attempt to rid yourself of the curse you will die, painfully.” Her smile wavered as his grip tightened. It had been risky placing the elixir onto her palms but she had no other choice, he simply would have walked away. Cazadora needed a guarantee, something to control him by, something more than a curse and now the thin layer of elixir that she had rubbed into his back would provide her a backup. “The deal cannot be undone. Killing me will not bring an end to the curse only a quicker end to your own life.”

He let go aydın escort of her wrists and turned away from her. Lucan could feel a tingling across his back where the witch had placed her hands. It started off small and localized but already it had begun spreading. Cazadora went to speak but he swung back round delivering a harsh slap to her face, she stumbled backwards hand clutching out at a chair to steady herself. “Save that anger for the thieves,” She tasted blood on her lips, “three items must be returned and the curse will be lifted.” She straightened herself up and stepped close to him again, feeling Lucan’s anger like a wave breaking across her she reached out and touched one of his powerful arms, he flinched then relaxed. “It has been a long time for you Lucan of Aldemar,” Her voice suddenly so soft and warm “Away from home, fighting, killing with no rest and no comforts,” Her hand slipped down his arm, onto the scar that was the only physical remnant left from the fight with the giant. “The house of Dianna is a lonesome place also.” Her hand went lower still across his thigh.

Lucan turned facing her fully, he took hold of her by her arms and she saw the anger there in his eyes but also lust. He wanted nothing more than to break her neck yet unknown to him the heat of the elixir was doing strange things. He stared at the witch, thoughts of killing her conflicted with thoughts of having her, spreading her across her bed and burying himself deep into her. His eyes dropped taking in her ample breasts and dark nipples that were already hardening. His kiss was forceful. He held her close, hands tightening on her arms, her tongue explored his mouth. She let out a yelp when he bit down and broke from his grip she took a single step backwards. He followed and pulled at her gown, ripping it away in one motion exposing her body fully.

They embraced again, kissing harder, she broke the kiss and nuzzled at his neck nipping and biting across his neck and shoulder her nails dragged across his back and arms she could feel his cock rigid against her belly and reached down to grip it. She gave it a hard yank eliciting a small moan and gasp.

Lucan spun Cazadora around, her arms saving her from falling face first onto her bed, she felt his rough hands on her hips and then one leg kicking her own apart. “Just what I expected from a lowly farmer of Aldemar,” she spat over her shoulder “Rutting like animals.” He grunted a laugh and landed a stinging slap across one buttock. She felt his engorged cock head rub across her slick opening and pushed back letting it slip in. Lucan held still for a moment with nothing more than his cock head inside the witch. “Is that all you have farmer, I expected at least a bit of…” Her sentence cut short her breath caught in her throat as he pushed forward filling her up until he was completely buried in her.

He held her hips and began long slow thrusts, pulling almost all the way out before driving it home again. Cazadora panted and moaned with each thrust, by now both were slick with sweat and her own sex was a mire of juices, he kept going feeling the witch getting closer to her peek. Cazadora’s breath became shorter her hips bucked back against Lucan. With each thrust he landed a slap to a buttock. Cazadora let out a long moan almost a wail and Lucan felt his own cock begin to spasm deep inside her, he had no time, simply held Cazadora’s hips and buried himself as deep as possible as he unloaded stream after stream of cum inside her.

Lucan pulled his now deflating cock from Cazadora who in turn turned and collapsed on her back onto the bed breathing in gulps of air her body shook and she laughed quietly, Lucan shook his head, unsure what had come over him so violently and why he felt a slight knot in his stomach.

Dracon Castle, Dolan.

Leaving the War room with Golman at his side Rosen had asked in hushed tones. “Are you the one to take my life Golman?”

Golman’s deep laugh echoed around the cavernous Throne room. “Not me Rosen, but be weary from now on.” He slowed his pace and looked down at the Captain, “Many claim to be your men but to the King they are sworn first and last. I will choose those who will come to Timeros, ones that have proven themselves in battle. But you have a more pressing engagement. But I say again be wary.” Rosen nodded and walked quickly down the throne room his heart beat drowning out the sound of his echoing footsteps.

Oundle felt comfort in the stables it was a life she had known before marrying the then Prince Balestre. Her own Father was a mighty lord but one of the people. His people had loved him and would have swum the oceans if he had asked them to. Oundle was brought up the same way believing everyone should be treated equally she had spent years in the stables tending to the horses jesting with the stable hands and even falling in love with one. But as much as she wanted it she was a Lady and had already been offered to Prince balıkesir escort Balestre, she could not bring disrepute to her Lord Father and Mother. Oundle and Balestre were married at the turn of her sixteenth birthday. She smiled and played along with the ceremony though when she said her vows she had imagined her stable boy.

A movement in the rafters above her brought her from her dream and she looked up her breath catching as a dark figure moved fluidly between the rafters before dropping to the ground before her. Rosen pulled the black hood away from his head and Oundle’s startled face turned to one of surprise “I have been waiting up there most of the evening,” he said taking one of her hands in his own, “Your handmaid will return shortly we haven’t much time.” He leaned in a kissed her on the lips.

Oundle reached up with her free hand cupping his face, “You look worried my Stable boy,” Rosen met her eyes and Oundle’s hand slipped from his grip “He knows.” She said with a certainty. She had known it would happen but the day Farringdon Rosen had appeared in the King’s court not as the stable boy she had left behind but as a soldier of formidable repute the worry had left her within a single tear drop from her eye.

The affair had gone on for five years now, longer than either of them had expected so much so that the fear of being caught had become such a frivolous thing a folly that they joked about sometimes when they were entwined. They had been stupid and now they were to be punished. “I don’t know what he has planned, I still have my head and you are not rotting in a dark dungeon somewhere,” a whore to all the jailers and prisoners he thought sending a shudder down his back.

“Then we leave now,” Oundle sputtered out and Rosen shook his head, “We cannot stay here.”

“I leave for Timeros at first light; The King has requested my assistance in bringing his new loyal followers to heel.” Oundle stepped back, her mouth hanging open in shock, “He wants me away from you, what he has planned is far worse than death I imagine…for both of us.” He took hold of both her hands now “We run now he will track us down and the punishment will be far worse.”

“And what of me? Where shall I go?” Tears had started to spill down her cheeks.

“You must stay here, act the good Queen, sire a son if you must,” The last words tasting bitter on his tongue, “I will return, be sure of that and when I do Balestre will beg for my mercy.”

“And if you don’t return?” For that he had no answer.

He lay in his bed now a simple feather filled mattress with a single sheet draped across his body, he had cried and he had raged now he lay still looking into the blackness he feared for her life more than his own. He was to be away from her until the king beckoned his return or had grown tired of playing with Rosen and had him killed at which point he was sure Oundle would meet her own end at the hands of the king himself, if he deviated from his mission the king would have them both killed. Rosen needed time, time to plan not only his own escape but that of the Queen as well as the time to return to the north lands and collect his hidden gold. Gold that he had been hiding in the mountains waiting for the moment it would be needed. And Rosen knew that time was rapidly approaching.

As the very top of the highest tower turned red with the rising sun Captain Farringdon Rosen walked into the court yard before his waiting squad of men. Six were horse mounted with vicious swords the other six were on foot two archers and four swordsmen. Sitting at the head of the group was Golman his Steel war hammer strapped to his back “So glad you could join us Captain,” The giant bellowed a grin spread across his face. “We ride on lands that have no ruler. Here we are Kings, here we are Gods.” Golman’s smile spread even wider the last line from a book his father had read to him as a child on his lips as he handed Rosen the reins to the unseated black steed next to him.

“I still find it difficult to believe you were a child once Golman.” Rosen looked over at his companion as he mounted the horse pleased that he was not going to approach the subject that was lying heavy on Rosen’s heart. “To me you will always be the Giant that crushed Baron Fasseri’s skull between your hands.”

Golman let out one of his deep laughs, “Ah good times were those. Perhaps we will get to replay them in this new land.” He cracked the knuckles on his hands, “There are rumors that there are Crusaders that will not go easily into the afterlife hiding in towns and villages creating rebellion to the new rule.” Rosen nodded at this, he so wanted to test his might against these once feared opponents. Now that they had been shown to be mere men on a battlefield and cowardly ones at that from what other Captains and Commanders had reported back, Rosen was eager for battle. Golman leaned slightly towards Rosen his voice dropping lower than even Rosen had expected him capable of “I have picked the most loyal, we are at your command and no one else’s.”

Rosen nodded and forced a smile though felt no joy. He looked about the courtyard and up at darkened windows hoping to see her face one last time but she was nowhere to be seen. He turned to look at his men, “We ride to Timeros and to glory.” He spurred his horse as his men whooped and followed.

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