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

I walked out into the frosty air and made my way home through the early evening shoppers. Their faces looked tired and weary, some even looked angry and frustrated. They all looked like they had been on their feet all day, searching for presents that are on every child’s wish list and the toy you need to buy eight weeks before Christmas and not seven days beforehand. I smiled as I passed them, thinking thank god I don’t have this hassle every year. No children to buy for, neither my own or any sibling children. Sometimes it’s good to be the only child. I like it that I only buy for a few friends that enjoy the bottle of Moet that I give them.

I glanced over at two women who were standing outside a shop window, pointing and laughing at what they had found. I stepped closer and overheard one saying to the other, “God you would look damn sexy in that!” I leant forward and saw a pair of red satin knickers and a red satin bra, both with a fringing of white fluffy faux fur. I moved closer to the sexy dark haired woman.

“I agree, yes you would!” The three of us stood and laughed, eyeing up the other garments in the window. “Oh god, I love those boots…” They were red thigh highs with a high silver heel. “They will be perfect for tonight, better than the black ones I was going to wear. Excuse me girls, but those boots have my name on them. See ya!” They both giggled and said their goodbyes as I opened the door to the shop. After purchasing my sexy new boots I went home to prepare for my evening.

Tonight was the Christmas party, a fancy dress one. A time to totally let go and I knew exactly what I was going to do. I’ve had it planned for weeks, especially after finding out what Joseph, the office hunk, was going to be wearing. Yes tonight, I will get him and make him mine. Well, for one night that is! Joseph is in his twenties and is fairly new to the company. Nearly every time I look up from my desk I catch him looking at me. There are younger women aplenty in the building but he’s always eyeing me up. I’m flattered that he gives me his attention. After all, I am a lot older than him. So what do I have that he so loves to ogle. A body to die for that’s what, large breasts that, of course, get put on show at any opportunity. Shapely legs that look great in a pair of stockings that the tops just happen to edge out when he is near. A flat stomach and firm arse that any skirt or trousers cling to like I was born into them. I have long dark hair with slightly twisted curls that fall beneath my shoulders.

I tease him at times. I fondle the ‘v’ on my blouse as it plunges towards my cleavage. I cross and uncross my legs when he’s passing. Just a simple glance at him at times can make him go running for the toilets. One day I must follow him there. I love to see him squirm when he doesn’t expect me to talk to him. When I seen him with the other guys in the corridor, I lean into the group and whisper, “morning Joseph!” His face flushes and he is rendered speechless. I love it. Yes Joseph, tonight, you will get your Christmas wish.

I ate a light snack after I showered then made my way upstairs to get ready. My outfit spread neatly on my king size bed. I moaned and smiled as I took in the delights in front of me. I picked up my delicate lace French knickers, red of course, with a little extra detail on the front. I eased them up my smooth long legs and over my arse cheeks. They fitted snugly over my hips and waist. I ran my fingers over the front of them. I could feel the heat building already. The red bra was next. As I lifted it from the bed it made a jingling sound. “Mmm, how cute!” I said as I placed my arms through the straps. It cupped my curvaceous mounds and lifted them, creating a deep valley in my cleavage. On the tip where my nipples stood protruding, I flicked the little jingle bells. I giggled. “Merry Christmas Joseph…”

I reached over to my red suspender belt and edged it over my feet, up my legs and over my hips. I then picked up my red stockings. I lifted the first one to my nose and inhaled the familiar smell. I love my stockings. Before I put them on I always have to glide them across my lips. Their soft touch against me always stirs my arousal. I ease them over my toes and gently slip them upwards towards my firm thighs. I stand and attach them with care to the clips on my suspenders and then the final touch, a slow teasing stroke down each leg.

I smiled as I glanced to the end of my bed. My boots. My sexy, red, thigh high boots. I pulled the zip all the way down and placed my foot inside then lovingly zipped it back up. It fitted like a second skin. I ran my fingers from the ankle to the thigh and all the way back down again. When I zipped the other boot I repeated the caress that I had given the other one. I stood up and walked towards the mirror, jingling as I stepped. I admired myself, feeling the power and dominance sweep over my being as I stood high in the heels and in the bold, passionate colour that partially covered me. A wicked grin welcomed escort mecidiyeköy me as my eyes rose up my reflection.

The clock on the wall beeped, indicating that it was eight o’clock. I skipped over to the chair in the window and unhooked my red velour jacket from it. I wrapped it around myself and secured it with a thick silver belt consisting of circles linked together. The fluffy white outline of the jacket whispered against my neck, cleavage and wrists. The muffled sounds of jingles could be heard when my tits bounced as I skipped down the stairs. “Jingle bells, jingle bells….” I sang as I grabbed my small red bag from the coat hook and headed out to the party.

I laughed as I entered the festively decorated hall, welcomed in by the voice of Noddy Holder belting out “IT’S CHRIISSSTMASSS…” I made my way to the bar and met up with two colleagues. We stood chatting for a while, exchanging opinions on our chosen outfits. Claire wore an angel outfit, including a halo, which I’m sure will slip as the evening progresses. Danielle was Snow White, a name that should not be associated with the woman inside the costume. Another festive song bellowed from the speakers on the stage. Claire moved between Danielle and I then grabbed our arms and pulled us on the dance floor. All three of us danced continuously through six songs until I started to back up towards the edge of the dance floor and headed back to the bar for another seasonal cocktail.

As I raised my glass to my lips I scoured the room looking for my Father Christmas. As you can imagine it was like trying to find a needle in a haystack. I scanned every pot- bellied guy dressed in a red suit. Then, by chance ‘cat woman’ passed by a Father Christmas and grabbed his beard and lowered it, showing off his face. “Got you!” I muttered as the woman pinged the beard back up.

I placed my glass on the bar and slowly prowled towards him, my eyes never leaving him. I soon got his attention and his gaze fell upon my boots. He eyes were still fixated on them as I stood before him. I placed my finger under his chin and lifted his head. His eyes met mine and he tried to speak. The movement of his mouth was causing the beard to move slightly but the music was too loud for me to hear anything that was passing through his lips.

A slow song started and I took his hand in mine and he followed close behind me as I led him to the dance floor. My hands came to rest on his chest and as the song continued we moved closer together. His hands remaining at his side telling me he is a little inexperienced and him not knowing where to put them was so adorable. I took the initiative and placed his hands on my hips, bringing us closer together. I ran my finger down the front of his red velour jacket, following the fluffy white fringe to the hem. My hand slipped underneath and pressed into his cushioned belly. My fingers moved lower to the waist of his trousers and I slipped them just inside. I felt soft material grace my fingers. Satin I believe.

His hand had now moved underneath my jacket and he was caressing my skin just above the top of my French knickers. His touch felt good on my warm skin. My fingers descended into his satin boxers. My fingers brushed against his hard cock and he jumped back, startled at the contact. I pulled my hand away from him and smiled as my eyebrow lifted. I leant forward and spoke into his ear. “I know it’s early, but I want you…” I licked his ear and breathed into it. “Now!” His body was swaying along to the music, but his stare was locked into my eyes. I pulled the fluffy white beard down and kissed him gently on his parted lips. I stroked his upper lip with my tongue then sucked it into my mouth and dug my teeth into it. He quickly pulled away, licking his lips. “Are you ready to go?” I knew what his answer would be. He’s wanted me for months. I stared deep into his eyes then looked at the white furry tip on his hat, bobbing up and down as he nodded his head.

I took his hand from my hip and dragged him through the crowded dance floor. He followed behind, never attempting to fully catch up with me. I swayed my arse a little more than usual and felt his eyes heating me up from my heels to my pussy. We finally made it out of the building and into the cold winter air. I turned to face him, his beard swishing side to side in the brisk northerly wind. “We’ll go to my place, yes?” He nodded and I vaguely heard a muffled ‘yes’ passing through his beard.

Out of the loud music we could now hear a jingling sound. Joseph began to laugh at me as he lifted his beard. “Where the hell have you got them hidden?” Without a word I peeled open my red jacket and shimmied my tits. “Very nice… can I play with them?”

I put my arm through his and started to walk a little faster. “Maybe… have you been a good little boy this year?” We both giggled when he shrugged his shoulders and we hurried to my house. The coloured lights on the porch welcomed bayan escort istanbul us up the path and I fumbled with the keys in my cold fingers as I tried to put the key in the keyhole.

Once inside I pushed Joseph against the wall and placed my leg between his thighs. I pulled the elastic down from his beard and hung it around his neck and put my lips to his. I moaned as he parted them and my tongue licked the insides of his soft lips. His hand came up and gently bunched my hair in his palm, caressing my curls around his fingers. My hand lay flat against his chest and occasionally I padded my way across the other side and then back again. Our mouths were one and our tongues danced, mixing our saliva. I pulled away slightly and grabbed both his hands. I placed them above his head and held them against the wall. I kissed him again, a little forceful this time as I pressed my body into him. My kisses left his mouth and followed his jaw line and up to his ear. “So tell me, have you been a good little boy?”

“Do I have to answer that?”

“Well yes you do… it determines what presents you get doesn’t it?” I left one hand holding his wrists on the wall, and with my other hand I ran my fingers slowly down his jacket, over his bulging belly and down to the front of his trousers. He swallowed hard as he felt my touch on his cock. “Have you been a good boy… or not?”

“Yes I have been a good boy!”

I smiled, “See that wasn’t hard to do was it? And as you have been good, what would you like to do to me now?” Without warning, he broke through my hand and pushed me back against the other wall. With every movement my tits jingled. My back hit the wall hard and he roughly grabbed the shoulders of my jacket and lifted them a little, pulling my arms back into the wall causing the jacket to fall open slightly. I moaned at his boldness, impressed and thankful that he wasn’t as inexperienced as I thought.

His mouth pressed onto mine as his chest pushed into my tits causing the jingle bells to momentarily stop. His lips crept to my neck and down my cleavage and his fingers toyed with the bells on my bra. He flicked them as he gently bit into my heaving mounds. “Ohh god, a little harder…” His teeth dug into me more and he sucked at my skin. “Mmm, yes…” I looked down at my devoured tit as he kissed along the red lace to my other heaving mound. Purple bruises had formed along the top of the red lace. “Bite me again…” I cried out and his teeth sunk in and sucked at my flesh. Again and again he bit and sucked me.

He relaxed my shoulders a little and I was able to hold his head in my hands. The feel of the red velour hat was soft and warm as I ran my fingers over it and the white fluffy fringe swept between my fingers. I pulled him in harder to me, his nose nuzzling against my heaving tits. I placed my hands on his shoulders and gently lowered him to his knees. He unclipped my silver belt and his soft kisses brushed against my belly. He teasingly licked along the top of my French knickers and I felt his fingers slip inside them at my hips. “Mmm, not yet little boy… you have to kiss me under the mistletoe first!” As I said the last word I spread my legs further and smiled. He looked at my knickers and grinned.

“You are a very naughty girl aren’t you?” At the front of my knickers I had previously attached a sprig of mistletoe.

“Yes Father Christmas I am, kiss me under the mistletoe!”

His fingers followed the lace edging. I felt his warm lips on my inner thigh. I groaned as his nose snuggled into my knickers. My shoulders were still against the wall, but I took my arse off it and spread my legs further. I felt his mouth opening and closing on my pussy and his moist tongue was prodding into me, taking the lace knickers with it. His hands were roaming all over my boots and when they reached the top, his fingers slipped inside to brush against my stockings. “Ohh god, that feels good!” I could smell my arousal in the air as he rubbed his face in my knickers. My tits were jingling as I began to rock back and forth on his mouth. “Father Christmas, make me cum…”

He pressed his mouth deeper into me, his nose rubbing my clit, hard and fast, my legs began to buckle and I was lowering myself onto him more. My thighs went numb and I tingled all over. I grabbed at my jingling tits, pulling my nipples. “Oh fuck, I’m cumming… ohhh goddd… yeahhh… fuckkkk…” He continued to rub my pussy until I recovered a little. “Kiss me…” He stood up and kissed me, hard. I inhaled my fragrance on him and tasted myself on his mouth and tongue as he completely ravished me. I fought for breath as his tongue licked the roof of my mouth and slid along my teeth. I groaned as he lifted my thigh and curled my leg around the back of him. I felt his hard cock against me and he began to grind into me. I lowered my hands and tugged at his trousers. His mouth left mine and I was left breathless but managed to whisper. “Does Father Christmas escort beşiktaş want his candy cane sucked?”

I lowered my leg as he answered. “Fuck yeah…”

I placed my hands on his upper arms and pushed him back against the wall. I knelt before him and pulled down his trousers and kissed over his tented boxer shorts. “Very festive,” I moaned as I kissed the snowflake pattern on his red satin shorts. I licked the outline of his cock through the shorts, rising higher to the tip and back down again. I pressed down the material either side of his thick cock and repeatedly licked it, up and down. I could hear Joseph moaning as my mouth reached the tip and covered it over the soft material. I slowly edged the shorts down his thighs uncovering his huge member. I looked up at him and his eyes said it all. Pleading for me to take him in my mouth.

My teeth began to nip at his balls as my fingers stroked the length of his cock. In between tender bites I kissed his chestnuts softly then moved my lips to the shaft. I licked from top to bottom and side to side. I heard and felt him gasp as my teeth occasionally grazed over him, nibbling his cock. My mouth again kissed its way to the top and I flicked the head repeatedly, over the top and around it, swirling my tongue over it. My lips covered the top and I slowly sucked him into my mouth. Inch by inch then retracting followed by lowering my mouth further down and again retracting. My fingers gripped around him and firmly stroked, following my mouth as it sucked more of his cock into it. Faster I sucked until I felt him tighten then groan. “Oh fuck… ” Seconds later I felt his cock pulse and flood my mouth with his cum. I moaned as I swallowed and felt it ooze down the back of my throat. I kissed his thighs as I pulled his boxers back up as well as his red trousers.

I stood up, smiling at him. “Does Father Christmas want to fuck Mary Christmas now? I’ll leave the boots on and the jingle bells…”

“How can I refuse… lead the way!”

“On one condition.”

He laughed. “What’s the condition?”

“You keep the hat, jacket and the beard on.”

“It’s a deal. Now where’s the bedroom?”

“Not the bedroom, the kitchen… I want Father Christmas to fuck me on my kitchen table!”

“You really are a naughty girl aren’t you?”

“Oh yes, you only just noticed?”

We giggled as I led him down the hallway and into the kitchen. I sat on the table and spread my legs. I teasingly peeled off my red jacket and tossed it on to the floor. Joseph then stepped out of his heavy black boots and pulled his trousers and boxers down and kicked them off his feet. He walked in between my thighs and gently ran his fingers from the top of my boots, over my stockings and fondled the straps on my suspender belt, all the while kissing me tenderly. I moaned into his mouth as his fingers caressed the insides of my thighs. I felt his lips part from mine then his breath fell on my ear and whispered down my neck. He nibbled on my shoulder as his hands came to rest on my hips. He shuffled me to the edge of the table then laid me flat. My arse was on the edge and he lifted my legs and placed them on his shoulders. He leant forward and edged my knickers off me as I held on to his shoulders with my legs. I lifted my arse off the table so he could pull my knickers from me. He crept them over my boots and lifted them over my toes and dropped them to the floor.

I spread my legs wide and gave a cheeky grin as I did so. “You want to slide into my chimney Father Christmas?”

“I think you’ve been bad enough to deserve it don’t you?”

“Mmm, yes I think so… Fuck me Father Christmas!” I felt the tip of his cock on my pussy. God, his cock was thick. I felt him inside, stroking my inner walls, filling my pussy completely as he entered me more. “Oh god yes…” My tits began to jingle as he built up a steady rhythm. He grabbed my legs and pulled them together, placing them back on his shoulders. He kissed my sexy red boots as he fucked me. I saw his long tongue edge out of the mouth hole in his beard and it twirled over my heel. “Mmm, uhhh, fuck me… harder… ” He rocked his hips back and forth, faster and faster. His long white fluffy beard was moving to and fro and side to side as he fucked me. The jingles from the bells on my tits were now ringing out continuously as my tits bounced in rhythm. His hat was bobbing from left to right and occasionally the white fluffy ball on the end would smack him in the face. “Ohh god… god…” He gripped onto my boots as he neared his release. He was groaning loudly, impaling me harder and harder. “Ohhhhh, say it…. Go on say it as you cum!”

He arched his back, pushing all of himself into me. His head fell back causing the hat to fall to the floor…”HO HO HHHOOOO!!” I felt his cock pulse deep inside me and he fucked me, shooting his cum deeper and deeper.

I felt my pussy tingle, my legs began to shake. I groped my tits as the eruptions inside made my pussy throb and convulse. “OHH GODDDD… YESSSSSSSSS!” He spread my legs again and his beard tickled me as he kissed my thighs while I breathed heavily, catching my breath, trying to recover. He pulled out of me and I pulled on his beard making him lean forward apprehensively. I carefully detached the beard and pulled him closer to me. “Kiss me…” I whispered.

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

Wednesday morning in the desert Southwest, late Springtime and a beautiful day. I am in the car, headed to an appointment on the other side of town. Casually I turn on my cellphone, pulling it from the leather carrying case and as I flick it on, the indicator chimes to let me know I have messages. I carefully navigate a lane change entering the expressway and lift the phone to my ear to hear the messages.

A deep sexy male voice comes on and I am at once mesmerized by his sound and timbre. For several days I have had a secret email companion and although we have not spoken, we have exchanged what could only be called the most intimate of information and desires…and now here he is, purring that sugar in my ear, my hand grips the steering wheel as the car accelerates to 65 mph and I move into the left lane.

He tells me I am heading in his direction, that after my appointment he would love an impromptu drive-by meeting so we might enjoy a glimpse of one another before the larger adventures we are planning…I feel the tingle begin to build in my nipples and clit while imagining more than a drive-by. But I quickly stifle the thought, there is a red light ahead and I slow down and save his message in the cellphone. I get to my appointment on time and an hour later I’m back in the car, heading south and in his general direction.

I flip open the phone and call him and leave a message, disappointed to get a machine and not the man…figuring it’s not meant to be, I continue on, headed to my second errand of the day. There are many cars out today and a lot of construction traffic in this neighborhood, I pay rapt attention to my driving.

Suddenly the cellphone rings loudly and I struggle to pull off onto a side street, turn off Barbra Streisand and answer. I once again hear that deep sweet voice and now we are chatting, he’s urging me to turn that car around, to head back in his direction, to have that drive-by ‘ice breaker’, as he calls it. So even though I’m not dressed for the occasion and wasn’t really prepared for this so soon, I succumb to temptation and turn the escort etiler car around.

Stoplight! Good, time for a mirror check. Hair, ok. Makeup, perfect. Outfit, good, could’ve worn higher shoes than these flat sandals, but at least my pedicure is lovely. The long black skirt and sheer camisole look great with the big black linen open shirt. My nipples are visible through the sheer black camisole and I didn’t wear panties today. And several pieces of my large turquoise jewelry collection are adorning my hot body. “It could be worse”, I think to myself as I continue towards his place. At least he knows we were not planning this, he is getting the real girl in impromptu condition…

Two more streets and I’m there. I pull up into the driveway and he is walking out of the open garage towards me, smiling broadly and his eyes are twinkling with delight. I stop the car, fling open the door, get out and am immediately in his arms. He smells of sweat from his morning run, paint thinner, sunshine, and man. I am captivated with his size, he is tall and sinewy, lovely and tan and we kiss, our lips meeting for the first time. His hot and eager tongue invades my mouth and all shyness we felt is gone…I am all woman and he is all man and this is what we both want and need, and we know it…

The hot incredible emails we’ve exchanged have fueled the fire of our lust and as he reaches down my back towards my ass, I entwine my arms about his neck and back and press my groin up full against his cock. I feel my pussy getting wet and hot, throbbing with excitement. But we need to slow down, his elderly Mother is staying with him now and she is not feeling well and could walk out at any moment. I don’t want to make a poor first impression, so we struggle with ourselves to break the embrace and to cool down some.

We separate briefly and move towards the interior of the house. The inside is a shambles, kitchen is all torn apart, lots of clutter everywhere and I know he’s a junk collector like me! Several cabinet doors are in the garage istanbul bayan escort area, stripped of paint and ready for varnish. He proudly shows me the work he’s done so far and describes the plans he has to overhaul the entire house, where he’s been now for 24 years. “He has his work cut out for him”, I think to myself…realizing that my own home of 8 years is ready for an overhaul as well! My heart is still beating wildly in my chest and I am having trouble breathing…his nearness is overwhelming to me and all I want is to turn and to bury my face in his chest, to inhale him again, to pull up my camisole and to rub my hardened nipples and ripe breasts against the naked flesh of his strong torso hiding underneath that blue t-shirt.

The largest dog I’ve ever seen emerges from the back of the house and pads slowly towards me. He lets me pet him and lies down lazily at my feet. Big, mellow friendly soul…a perfect partner to this man of the desert. Intuitively I know this man is good, his dog is well-loved and content. And this relaxes me a little…

We walk back out into the open garage area and by now the lust is raging, we have both been fighting it back and can’t keep it in check. We laugh and chat and flirt shamelessly and both of us know what we want and need. If Mom comes out here now, she’s going to get a shock but we are not going to stop this time. His hands reach to find my tender breasts and he pulls them up and out of the sheer camisole and alternately sucks each hard nipple into that hot erotic mouth. I swoon with desire and as he kisses me repeatedly and deeply, he reaches between my legs, still only through my skirt and begins to stroke my pussy, clit and cuntlips.

I am getting hotter and wetter and really need him now, I need to cum and want to feel his fingers inside me, and when his hand reaches for the hem of my long skirt I don’t protest but allow him to pull it up around my waist in front and to find my wet charms with his delicate touch. It’s electrifying, feeling his warm hand on my most private places and I arch escort ortaköy towards him as his fingers find my clit, stimulating me with deft talent until I can no longer keep from cumming. I climax over his fingers and leaning hard into his body, I reach out and hang onto him for support. His hot talented hand is in me more deeply now, he’s talking to me, telling me how hot I am and wet and how much he wants me to cum for him, to let him have me, and as he continues to stimulate me faster now and then deeper, I cum and feel like I am dripping over his fingers and wrist.

Meanwhile I am aware that the neighbors next door with their moving van have seen this entire display and I have been further aroused by the thought that we were being watched. His cock is still hidden in the confines of his jeans and although I long for a taste, I am aware that Mom could appear at any moment, so as I struggle to regain some composure I reach out to rub him through the denim and he takes my hand and pushes it down inside past the waistband and I feel the hot erotic throbbing of his male member, thick and alive and warm in my hand as I grip him softly and push against him in desire. We continue our crazed kissing but only momentarily, I tell him, “If you take that cock out, I’ll be on my knees right here on this concrete floor to suck you off”…and he realizes it’s not the time and not the place so we stop for the moment, with considerable difficulty.

As we stand in the sunlight we gaze at one another with a mixture of delight, shyness, tenderness, greediness and lust. We both are grinning and our hearts are still beating wildly, our breathing is shallow and rapid and we are both still mesmerized with the newness of it all. I turn my back to him and press my clothed asscheeks up against his groin as he reaches around me to fondle my tits. I tell him this is my favorite position, from behind, and that I always cum this way and together we have the same mental image and we swoon as I rub against him. When we break the embrace, I turn and lift up his t-shirt and bury my face in his beautiful chest, inhaling the awesome maleness and savoring the moment…I am weak in the knees with my desire.

We kiss again and knowing that this is only our ‘ice breaker’, nothing more, I get into the car and drive away…he waves at me as I turn and we are both still grinning with delightful anticipation of the days to come…

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

Talia was an independent young woman who enjoyed traveling. At the age of 25 she had already done two tours with Green Peace helping people of 3rd world countries. She had also spent time in the Jungles of South America and the wilds of Africa. Now she was on an archaeological trip to a remote island somewhere in the South pacific. There were ancient ruins there that had been recently discovered.

Once the small water plane landed everyone stepped onto the sandy shore and looked up at all the tall and beautiful trees. This was jungle seemingly full of like and pristine. They hiked to the camp site near the ruins. The next morning after everyone had slept through the night in tents and ate a quick breakfast consisting of pop tarts and bottled water, they headed out.

They gingerly began exploring the ruins and imagining what it must have looked like before it became ruins. Digging soon began and odd artifacts were discovered. There were tablets with strange writing on it. None of the experts had ever seen it before. Then one of them joked, “Maybe it is from aliens.”

Talia wandered off by herself out if sight from the others. Then, the ground gave way and she fell and hit the ground below hard with a thud. She called for the others but no one heard her. There was no way to climb back out so she decided to find another way out. She turned on her flash light and began adventuring. Along the way she saw more unusual artifacts and things with the odd writing on them. She finally came to a heavy wooden door. She slowly pulled it open.

She gasped at what she saw. She seemed to have found an underground meeting hall of some sort. The floor was polished stone and there were tall stone pillars. At the other end there seemed to be a throne atop a raised floor with steps leading to it. And along the sides of the room were statues. Upon inspection these statues looked like nothing in the history books. They looked like large obscene creatures with tentacles and tails. Their faces resembled humans, however, just larger with evil facial expressions. Talia suddenly felt afraid that perhaps this was indeed alien ruins.

She walked to the throne and up the steps. She felt tired and sat in the chair. When she did, the chair snapped a metal band around her waist tightly to hold her in place. She screamed and struggled to free herself. Then, odd twisted lights began to light on their own along the walls.

An alien that looked like the statues beamed in front of her. The tall dark green creature eyed her a few moments. His glowing red eyes squinted slightly. His leathery body seemed nude and he tensed as he walked to her. She screamed and he smiled wickedly showing very pointy teeth.

He had a thick monster cock that was bout 13 inches long and 4 inches around. And then there were the tentacles…. There was one from the tip of each shoulder blade and one from each hip. The tentacles were long, rounded at the ends and about 2 inches thick. And who could forget his long tail…

He stepped forward and said, “I am Ruler Keznuroch. This place belongs to me. Why are you here, Human?!” She stammered, “I-I f-fell. Fell from above and wandered in here. I-I am sorry. I’ll l-leave.” He chuckled, “Well, I think I will enjoy you for awhile before you leave. Humans are so much fun to play with.”

He leaned in close to her as she tried to move her face away as much as possible. He smiled to her with pointed fangs and exhaled hard on her. When he did, a mist came from his mouth. It covered her face and she gently drifted to unconsciousness. He released her from the seat and quickly got to work.

When Talia awoke, she was in what appeared to be a dungeon. It had stone walls, stone flooring and a stone ceiling. There were more of the strange lights from above lining these walls too. She slowly opened her now heavy eye lids. Her sight was blurry but slowly clearing. She looked around and saw all sort of kastamonu escort odd yet obviously alien equipment. Most of it looked very menacing and frankly, scary.

Talia felt a tingling in her wrists and ankles. She looked to them and realized that there was some sort of glowing green energy around her wrists and ankles. She tried to move but the odd energy held her firmly as if she was set in stone. These strips of energy seemed to reach out from the circular metal frame that was a few feet above her and circled down a few feet below her.

She began to cry and struggle in vain. And then she heard his voice behind her, “Yes, my Human toy. Struggle if you must. It excites me tremendously.” She froze in terror.

Talia then cried out, “Please, please! Free me! Please don’t hurt me!” Her body trembled as the tears flowed from her eyes.

He walked around in front of her and stuck his long green tongue out. His tongue licked her tears away and he exhaled. He brought his tongue back into his mouth and smiled evily to her, “My people do not shed tears. I love the taste of the tears you Humans leak. I hope to taste much more of your tears before I am finished satisfying myself with you.” She just continued to sob.

The alien walked over to a cart and lifted a metal piece from it. It looked much like what Dentists use to keep a mouth open during surgery. He held it up in front of her face, “This will keep your mouth open. Bite down too hard and you may chip your teeth. Now open your mouth so I may place this in your mouth.”

Talia turned her head to the side and shut her mouth tightly. She was obviously refusing to oblige his request.

He simply laughed finding her amusing. He brought a hand up to pinch her nose tightly. She soon had to open her mouth to breathe. When she did he shoved it into her mouth. She screamed out in fear and hopelessness.

The Alien sighed, “Much better.” The tentacles from his shoulders came forth and squeezed her large breasts. The tips were wet and seemed to lick at her nipples. A tentacle from a hip slid up her thigh and poked at her pussy. The tip was wet like the other two tentacles and slowly slid into her. As she screamed out from the shock of it all, the tentacle kept pushing. It found her cervix and pushed through it. The tentacle went all the way into her womb and only stopped when it reached the top of her womb.

The Alien seemed to be enjoying himself, obviously feeling everything his tentacles touched. His fourth tentacle came up and rubbed her clit. He looked down into her shocked and terrified eyes, “You will cum soon. I know human females like this thing called a clitoris stroked.”

She screamed out, “Never!”. She then began to thrash and tried to pull away from the tentacles.

He chuckled, “Yes, keep struggling.” The tentacle inside of her began to slowly move in and out leaving only the tip inside when it pulled out. The end of the tentacles squeezing her breasts opened up. They had small mouths that we like suction cups. The suction cups opened up over her nipples and began to suck hard. They were pulling on her nipples while they sucked as if trying to stretch her nipples out.

As much as Talia didn’t want to admit it, she was becoming sexually aroused. Her now soaking and dripping wet pussy told on her. The alien moaned and the tentacle rubbing her clit opened up like the ones on her nipples. It began to suck and pull like the tentacles on her nipples as well. She closed her eyes as her body tightened. Tears fell from her eyes as she came hard.

The alien chuckled and pulled completely away from her. She was left hanging there with her own cum dripping to the floor below. He stepped close again pulled her head up by her hair. He licked her tears away, “A mere Human can not resist me or my race. On my planet I have Human slaves that beg for me to make them kayseri escort cum. You will be no different.” She just hung her head when he let go of her and remained silent.

He then walked to a panel attached to the frame. It was just a plain looking square. But, Talia watched from the corner of her eye. He put a long taloned finger to the panel and his finger seemed to slip into some silvery liquid. He slowly twirled his finger in it. As he did, the frame slowly turned her upside down. The alien then lifted his finger upward slowly. She was raised upside down until her feet almost touched the frame.

The alien walked over to her and aligned his cock with her still forced open mouth. A tentacle from his hip wrapped firmly around her neck to prevent her from moving her head. He pushed his monster sized cock into her mouth. Her cheeks bulged like a chipmunk and she gagged when he reached the back of her throat. He began to slowly push his cock in and out.

He then brought his tongue to her wet pussy and began to lap up her juices. He moaned into her pussy and then slipped his thick leathery tongue inside. She moaned from the pleasure of it.

A tentacle was then brought up to her asshole from his shoulder. The end opened up and sucked on her perfect rosebud. At this point she was filled with fear again. She was terrified he would enter her ass in some way.

The alien pulled his tongue from her wet pussy and said, “Relax. It is going to happen. Be a good girl and it won’t hurt too badly.” He slipped his tongue back into her. He began to furiously lick her slick walls and the tentacle began to slip into her ass. She tensed and her eyes rolled back into her head.

He began to furiously face fuck her and hungrily ate her out. The tentacle pushed into her ass burying its’ head in her hot dark canal. The moisture the tentacles made helped to lubricate its’ way in. But, it still hurt. She released muffled cries from the pain. He seemed unaffected by her cries of pain as he continued.

She continued to scream and cry as the tentacle pushed deep into her bowels. Once it reached a safe depth it began to wiggle around inside of her like a worm. The tentacle was trying to loosen her up. All of this continued until her screams subsided.

The alien then pulled his throbbing cock from her mouth. He continued to eat her out though. And now the tentacle in her ass began to move in and out. She moaned out in pleasure and her body tensed. She had her second orgasm. The alien pulled the tentacle out and greedily drank up her juices. He licked her pussy until it was almost dry again.

She was now in a daze. Her body was weak and her mind felt fatigued.

The Alien walked over to the panel and made it twirl her right side up. He then pushed the two bottom corners of the panel and her ankles were released. He walked in front of her and tweaked her nipples with his fingers. He then lifted her hips up with his hands and wrapped them around his waist. He aligned his monster cock up to her pussy and slowly slid into her.

Talia cried out from the pain of his thickness and he licked her tears. A tentacle from his hip came up to her anus and shoved its’ self roughly inside of her. The second tentacle from his hip came up and wormed its’ way into her ass too. The pain was too immense and she screamed out from the pain. Then, she was unconscious.

When Talia awoke, she was strapped to a device hanging from the ceiling and there was what looked like a bed below her. Her legs were spread wide like she was doing a split. Her arms were restrained by a leather strap above her head. She tried to move her legs but leather straps kept her legs fasted tightly to some sort of metal frame.

She began to thrash about and scream out. The Alien came up behind her. He said to her in a mocking tone, “I have been waiting for you to awake my precious kıbrıs escort slave. Have you dreamed of your Master?”

She hissed at him, “Fuck you!”

The Alien laughed, “Oh, I can oblige. You will fuck me.” He then scooted onto the bed below her. He held some sort of device in his hand. He slid a slider up with one finger and she was raised into the air a bit. He pushed the tip of his cock in and then used the slider to bring her down slowly. Slowly, her push was stretched and forced to accommodate him.

Talia of course screamed out from the pain, “No! Oh God it hurts! Please stop! Please!”

The Alien chuckled, “Such a troublesome Human.” The device continued to lower her until she took all 13 inches deep within her. He moaned well pleased with the sensations.

Talia continued to sob as her pussy felt on fire and torn. She looked down to him with pleading eyes, “Please, take it out. You are too big.”

The Alien exhaled and smiled, “If it was, it would not have fit. The Human pussy is very flexible. It was made for sex. I love Human pussy.” He then began to make the device slide her slowly up and down his long shaft. She continued to cry from the pain. He said, “Call me Lord. I want your answers to be Yes My Lord and No My Lord from now on. Let me her you. Say Yes My Lord.”

Talia shook her head no refusing to say it. He sighed and brought the tentacles up from his shoulders. The leathery tentacles began to slap her breasts hard. She screamed out and instantly knew this was to make her say what he wanted to hear. To make the pain stop she shouted, “YES, MY LORD!” The tentacles moved away.

The Alien said, “Very good, slave. Very good. You will learn it is best to just say and do as I wish you to. Anything else results in punishment. Do you understand?”

Through her sobbing she answered, “Yes, My Lord.”

Just when her pussy was finally stretched and accepting him, he decided to make things a bit more challenging for her. He made her lift almost completely off of his cock. The two tentacles from his hips pushed quickly into the opening of her ass together simultaneously. She looked down to him, “No, Oh. God. No!”

He smiled wickedly, “Oh yes. Yes!” Within an instant she was lowered and both holes were filled to the max. He kept her like that for a few moments as she screamed from the pain wishing she could pass out again. Both holes were filled with 13 inches long (the tentacles were much longer but the whole length would kill her) and 4 inches thick of dark green flesh.

He made the machine go up and down slowly yet in a steady rhythm. Even though she screamed, cried and pleaded he continued his assault. When he felt himself near his point of cumming, he made the machine lift her up. He slid the tentacles out of her ass and pushed the tip of his cock into it. The machine was then made to go up and down faster.

Her body was forced into another orgasm. As her body flinched and she came, leaking down onto him, he groaned and grunted loudly. His cock throbbed and expanded another half an inch. His now 4 ½ inch thick cock exploded deep into her bowls. As she panted and her body continued to convulse he looked up to her with a satisfied grin, “Do not worry. The more we do this, the more your body will get used to it. Now, as much as you fought what your body really wanted, did you cum?”

She exhaled, “Y-yes, My Lord.”

He slid his slowly deflating cock out of her and asked, “Did you cum multiple times?”

She exhaled again, “Yes, My Lord.”

He chuckled and slapped her bottom, “Have you ever been so well fucked in all your life?”

She looked to him with fatigue, “No, My Lord.”

He grinned to her, “Do you want me to fuck you again some time?”

She exhaled and thought for a moment. She was tempted to say no. But her body told her the truth. So her response came out as, “N-n… Yes, My Lord.”

The Alien laughed at her, “You Humans are so fuckable. Yet, you try to deny what your body was really made for. Rest for now. Soon you will be taken to my planet to live out your life as my slave.”

Talia sighed but knew there was no fighting him. Though it hurt like hell, she did cum multiple times. She could not deny the fact that her body now needed what he had to offer.

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

Ben stared around at the facility in utter disbelief at what he was seeing. The whole place was an absolute ruin, looking like it had seen centuries come and go. Most of the cryo pods surrounding him were empty or disconnected. Thick layers of dust covered everything he could see, and the lights that once lit up the area were dim or out.

Taking his time to center himself, Ben propped himself up and swung his legs over the edge of the pod. Breathing several times so he didn’t pass out, Ben stood up slowly, taking as much time as he needed. The man remembered the docket he read about coming out of cryo sleep. He was both hungry and weak as he’d expected, something he would look to remedy soon.

Ben took several minutes, finding his center of balance before he thought about walking. When he did, it was only baby steps, just so he didn’t overexert himself. From what he could see, he was the only one awake at this moment, but he didn’t know for sure. He didn’t know what time it was, and everyone could be asleep because the hour was late for all he knew.

The Latin man was walking away from the main cluster of pods, heading towards where the storage area was, hoping to see someone there. He saw no one and the storage zone looked like someone, or multiple someones, had gone in and tossed everything around. As he passed the various pods around him, Ben noted that some were already open. Whereas others had been crushed by falling concrete, with the occupant still inside.

Ben shook himself and shuddered at the thought, thinking it was a horrible way to die. He made his way over to the place where he had deposited his personal effects and saw that there was no one there. He had the most eerie feeling that the cryo facility was completely abandoned. Ben saw that the buildup of dust hadn’t been disturbed in quite some time, which confirmed to him he was alone.

Stopping himself from panicking, Ben then moved to where the control facility was situated. He knew that if he was going to find answers about what was going on, it would be there. He felt his body restoring itself back to life as his limbs reawakened. The movement was helping, and Ben could feel himself getting stronger.

He walked up the shot stairway to the command center and walked in; the door having been left ajar for some time. Power still flowed into the place and the computer equipment still functioned. He sat down at a nearby console and typed a few keys, hoping that he could at least get into the system. A login screen was displayed, asking for a username and password, which Ben had neither of.

He looked around the center and found only a few items of note, a few clipboards, some old pens and markers and an identity keycard. Despite its age, the keycard looked to be relatively intact, and it gave Ben an idea. He went back to the terminal he was clacking away at and looked around it until he found what he was looking for. A black keycard reader sat right next to the mouse on the computer, which he used the keycard on.

The computer read the keycard and then shut down the password access prompt, granting him entry into the system. Ben looked over the whole thing, not understanding the whole schematic and monitoring system. But he knew enough of what he was seeing to know that there were no more functioning cryo pods active. This confirmed what Ben had feared all along, that he was the only person here, the last one to wake up.

None of this made any sense to him, as he was only supposed to be under for ten years! Why did this look like he’d been under for far longer? He pondered that question when he noticed the time stamp of his cryo pod opening. It was dated for ten thirty-five in the morning on May seventh, twenty-five twenty.

Thinking his eyes and mind were playing tricks on him, Ben slapped and pinched himself to be sure he wasn’t just dreaming. He was wide awake, of sound mind and coherent, so this wasn’t a trick. He checked the computer to see when the last diagnostic was run and it chimed with the time and date stamp being over thirty years ago. Ben had been asleep in the cryo pod for well over five hundred years!

Ben controlled his breathing once again, forcing his body to not panic as he came to grips with this new piece of information. How had he not known that he would be under for that long?!? He needed answers, and he needed them now! Ben went looking around the system files, searching for any kind of clue, but found nothing. He minimized the monitoring application and saw a file folder.

Thinking this may have been what he was looking for, Ben opened the folder and found two video files inside. The first one was labeled ‘Awakened’ and the second one was labeled ‘Topside’. He opened the first file to see what lay within it. The video played and there was Simon, the tech who had let him in when he first arrived.

“Hello there. To those who are viewing this file, you no doubt have a great many questions about what exactly is going on. Rest assured, I will explain everything çeşme escort in due time. I will start by explaining things from the beginning. Nearly a decade before everyone entered the cryo tubes and begin their long sleep, two young men had a falling out over ideals. One was named Jason Adler, the CEO of CryoTek, the other was named Darius Beauregard, heir apparent of the Beauregard family fortune.”

“Both men understood that humanity would have to undergo a drastic shift to how it was going along. Humankind had been on a collision course with disaster since the first Industrial Revolution. Yes, our understanding was growing by leaps and bounds, but we were raping and pillaging the planet for every resource we could get our hands on. We cared nothing of the consequences of our actions, as long as we could all live in comfort and luxury.”

“This attitude continued until around the nineteen sixties. When certain sections of humanity were waking up to the ramifications of what we were doing to our home. They were considered outliers and crackpots until another generation had passed and the threat to us became very real. Fast forward a few decades to the argument between Mr. Adler and Mr. Beauregard. Both men had plans to fix the problem we faced, but they lay as polar opposites,” Simon explained.

“Mr. Adler wanted to change things in the manner where we would make rapid and unprecedented changes to our way of life. Many of the conveniences would be gone, albeit on a temporary scale. The mass production of farming, of quality goods and such would be halted, while we allowed the planet to heal from it wounds. Then, humanity would adapt to the way things would become.”

“Mr. Beauregard’s plan was entirely different. He proposed a massive culling of humanity, where nearly the entire population of the Earth would be wiped out. Using nuclear and chemical weapons, hitting the major cities and other large towns. To dissolve the greatest portion of humanity in an instant was the only way forward in his mind,” Simon went on.

“Mr. Adler tried to dissuade Mr. Beauregard from this course of action, but he would not be swayed. It was in that moment that both men went their own ways, hoping to save both the world and humanity. It wasn’t long before Mr. Beauregard had stockpiled various weapons of mass destruction, with the full intent on using them.”

“Mr. Adler, having been privy to his plan, devised his own solution to the problem. He knew Darius would set the weapons off soon, but it would take time before he was ready. He wanted to achieve what he called, ‘Absolute Annihilation’, where there would be no survivors other than those he deemed fit to inherit and rule the world. In order to do this, he would need a great quantity of weapons and he would have to position them around the world to achieve this.”

“Mr. Adler used this time to research cryogenic stasis, hoping he could at least keep the best and brightest of humanity safe. Shortly before the Cryo Lottery was announced, we’d had a breakthrough of significant proportions. We had made it possible to freeze someone and then thaw them out with little to no side effects!” Simon exclaimed.

“Though we would have devoted more time to proper testing, we were running short of time. Darius had not only pulled together enough weapons to do the job, but he had also amassed a group of followers who believed as he did. That humanity needed to be culled and that only him, and those like him, were the only ones fit to inherit the Earth. Many of them were wealthy, like he was, believing that the ‘common folk’ had grown beyond control.”

“Though the lottery and the advertisements were made public, the true reasoning was not. We set the lottery in motion, hoping to find those who were among the best that humankind offered and to give them a chance to avoid a dark fate. The questionnaires you answered helped us winnow out those who are unfit or mentally unsound. The physical tests we performed helped us further narrow that pool,” Simon said, his voice heavy with regret.

“The blood samples we collected during those physicals helped us determine those who could step into a pod would also come out alive and well. Despite the breakthroughs we had made, the criteria for being able to survive a long slumber in a cryo pod were narrow. Only those with certain genetic traits would be capable of surviving in such a prolonged state. This is why there were certain rankings for those who won a slot,” Simon continued.

“Although those who couldn’t sleep as long could still help us with our research. After their reemergence from cryo sleep, we could study them and the effects that the freezing process had on them. Once we could put together enough data, we could extend the cryogenic cycle of those who had gone under. This would allow them to step back into the tubes, while also prolonging the stasis time of those above them.”

“Those who received a green card were those başakşehir escort who manifested the basic traits needed but wouldn’t be able to stay under for very long. Maybe seventy-five to one hundred years was our best estimate. Those who received bronze cards were better off, able to go beyond two hundred years of cryo stasis. Silver card carriers were rare, as they were often from those who were of mixed backgrounds, so their genetic resilience was great.”

“Gold card carriers were the most rare, their genetic code being nearly pristine and needed if humanity was going to occupy this world again. Though genetics wasn’t the only criteria that determined someone’s status, but also their intelligence and who they were as a human being. Background checks were done on everyone. No detail about their lives too small to investigate,” Simon told him.

“Once we were certain of someone’s motives and who they were, is when the invitations were sent. Mr. Adler knew he couldn’t save everyone, but he was determined to save who he could. He built multiple facilities like this one across the globe, which we call Cryo Vaults, intent on keeping the human gene pool as diverse as possible. The location of each facility was a closely guarded secret, as he was certain that Darius would try to sabotage his efforts.”

“High end security measures and procedures were implemented in order to weed out spies and saboteurs. Several had been reported, detained and subsequently eliminated. No witnesses would report back to Darius or his cronies, as the cryo tech that we had developed was highly sought after by him. Mr. Adler was determined to keep it out of his hands at all costs,” Simon growled as he was recalling something.

“Thankfully, we were able to keep the technology out of his hands, but we were still gathering more people to populate the other facilities when the bombs fell. On June sixth, twenty twenty-three, the bombs were dropped, and chemical warheads launched. In a single day, everything that humanity had built, and the billions of people who were still living topside, were eradicated.”

“Though we hadn’t found every candidate to come to our facilities, we did bring in over ninety percent of everyone we identified. We went to great lengths to not only preserve all of humankind but also the knowledge we had gleaned over our history. Before the Nuke Day, agents were sent all across the world to document the world as it was.”

“Every snippet of history, every advancement, every tradition, every language, nothing was overlooked. Mr. Adler believed, as we did, that if humanity was going through a reset, we were going to save every piece of it that we could. Below the main cryo pod chamber is where the Archive of Humanity is located. Each facility was equipped with one, so that if one was to succumb to the long wait of time, others would still hold our knowledge,” Simon explained.

“Now that you are awake after all of this time, everyone who has survived is now tasked with rebuilding humanity. There will be a lot to do and much that needs to be rebuilt, but with all the knowledge we have amassed, it should be much easier than the first time around.”

“Our greatest hope is that you will use this chance to bring humanity to a brighter and greater future, where you will hopefully avoid the mistakes of the past. Build a better world than the one we left behind. I pray you succeed,” Simon finished.

The recording didn’t end there, as Simon detailed the various facilities that were included in the Cryo Vault. Ben sat back in the chair as the recording droned on, shell-shocked, as he had a lot to process! Everything he knew, the world he had left behind, was completely gone?!? That meant everyone he ever knew was also gone! That meant…

“Samara…” Ben cried out as he grieved. He wept for the woman he loved, lost to nuclear fire, as he was certain that she would have moved on with her life. Ben cried and howled in anguish, wishing he could go back and ask her to join him in the experiment. He wept until he could weep no more, yelled until his throat was raw from screaming and collapsed to the floor, angry and resentful of his actions.

He didn’t know how long he lay there, a minute, an hour, a day, but it didn’t matter. Samara was gone and even though he was heartsick at her death, he knew the die was cast and there was nothing more to be done. He stood up from where he fell, wobbling slightly but eventually standing firm.

Taking a deep breath to clear his head, Ben got to work, taking full stock of the situation. Only one thing mattered to him now; survival. He double checked the monitoring program, making damn sure he was the only one there. When the program informed him that there were no other living cryo pod occupants, he went digging. Specifically, to find the files he’d need to read up on shutting it down and shunt the power for the pods back to the facility.

It took a bit of searching before küçükçekmece escort he found the relevant files, and the procedure was rather simple. He double checked each step before he executed it and maybe an hour later, he rerouted the power and the rest of the facility brightened substantially. With the power issue solved, Ben then left the command center to survey his surroundings.

Though the place had held up fairly well against time and its slow ravages, Ben knew that this place was slowly falling apart. He would have made the needed repairs to fix it up, but he lacked both the materials and workforce to make any significant progress. Sighing, the only option that he had left was to leave, but before he did that, he needed to know what he was working with.

He needed food, clothing, survival gear and, most importantly, weapons. Though the world had changed, he assumed he would need them, as he didn’t know what dangers lurked outside of the cryo facility. Ben started by heading into the storage area and looked around for unopened containers. There weren’t many, but he grabbed all that he could before heading over to where the sleeping quarters for the techs were located.

He carried the boxes over, knowing that he’d have to go through all of them to find anything of use. The sleeping quarters were a serious mess, with decaying clothes and garbage scattered everywhere. Though the task was considerable, Ben got the place cleaned up in no time at all, cleaning each room. He’d even found an old but serviceable broom and gave the place a good sweep before sitting down to go through everything.

He opened his first, knowing what lay in there. It wasn’t much, but the items reminded him of better times, happier times, before all of this. He set them aside reverently before he went to the next box. Ben tried prying it open, but found the box wouldn’t give, not even a single millimeter. He grumped for a moment before he realized that he’d need to collect the appropriate pins before they would about.

Chastising himself for having such a massive brain fart, Ben got up and went back out to the cryo pods. He went about looking for any of those chips that would open those boxes and managed to find a few. He tentatively approached the pods that still had occupants in them, a bit mortified he was disturbing the dead. Ben knew he was going to have to get past this hang up if he was going to survive.

Blowing out a heavy sigh, Ben walked to each one and searched them for their keys. He found them tucked in the same place that his was tucked into, so they were easy to locate. Once he’d gone through each of the corpses of those who were left behind, he headed back to the sleeping quarters. He thought about what might be in the boxes, when his train of thought was interrupted by his growling stomach.

He chuckled to himself as he dropped his newly gained keys on the bed he’d selected and wandered back out into the facility to find something to eat. Ben remembered that there was some sort of hydroponics facility that Simon had described in the video and went looking for it. He found it as he wandered down a hall off the primary facility, but was appalled at what he saw.

The hydroponics zone, which was supposed to be growing food for the techs and cryo pod survivors, had been stripped down of everything. Anything that had been edible had obviously been taken, with only some small morsels left here and there. The rest of what remained was only dead plants and slime, none of which were edible. Ben huffed and looked around anyway, hoping that he’d find at least something.

He dug around hydroponics and was coming up empty. Most of what was left in there were bags of fertilizer, some water reservoirs, and a few tools and seeds. Though there was the capacity to grow food, Ben wasn’t sure that he could wait that long. Before he left, he noticed a large pileup of garbage that he didn’t pay any attention to initially.

Curious, he dug around it a little, thinking it was rather odd that the pile would be in the middle of the area and not pushed along the walls. He cleared the initial layer of detritus and found that beneath all the trash were ration packs! The silvery bags were coated thickly with dust, but Ben wasn’t complaining!

He looked over the packs and they looked to be intact; the packaging looking like something from his era. The food inside would undoubtedly be old, but he hoped it was still eatable. He picked up a small energy bar. The silver packaging was tarnished but undamaged. Ben opened it and took a small whiff. The scent was a bit stale, but he could detect no trace of rot, so he took a small nibble.

It tasted like it had been left a bit long in the air, but he would not complain at this point, so he ate the whole thing. He rummaged around the pile of rations and found that the food was all in bar-like shapes. Ben supposed that made sense, as it would help extend its shelf life. He gathered as much as he could in his arms before heading back to the sleeping quarters.

He had to make several trips while munching on a couple of breakfast bars along the way. Once he got to the bottom of the pile, Ben saw a book lying on the ground, almost like it was placed there. Wondering what the book contained, Ben scooped it up with the rest of the ration bars and headed back to the sleeping area.

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 social engineers of humanity finally completed their great project in the 22nd century CE, when the trends of history finally culminated to overcome humanity’s wastage of spirit by disease, toil, and futile enmities and divisions. A process which began with the founding of the UN proceeded, with some reverses, to unify the various governments of the world into a single state. Humanity, which had stabilized at 10 billion, ceased its horizontal spread over the earth and relocated to giant skyscraper-cities, converting all arable land into farmland. Social and genetic engineering finally bred into existence the New Man, a gregarious individual with high extroversion and low neuroticism who did not suffer from the need to have private ownership of objects or people. It is with such men that the great skyscrapers could house almost a million people each without conflict or descending into the Behavioral Sink.

In these buildings there was such sexual license as to make the Free Love movement blush. Modesty meant nothing when clothes were obsolete, and privacy was next to impossible in such crowded conditions. Sex was given freely to everyone, and monogamy was a dirty word. Once a woman gave birth, the infant was given over to the Crèche to be raised until puberty, when the young adult entered training for what few jobs were needed to maintain the building. The vast majority of people received only enough education to be functionally literate, as the most important skills were social.

Some occupations were challenging and rigorous enough that exceptions had to be made from the nearly classless and egalitarian state of society. Adepts, or Kappas, who became politicians, policemen, or engineers, were selectively bred for various traits in the hatcheries to meet the Colony’s needs. Those Kappas whose line of work required a degree of removal from ordinary society were even granted a measure of privacy and the right to marry another Kappa for the purposes of raising children.

Kappas had a living space about the size of a studio apartment to share with their spouse and however many children (the number of offspring allotted to them determined by Colony need). Everyone else lived alone in a room about 10 square meters, containing their bed, a retractable sink/toilet, and a tele-screen which also functioned as a computer. All dining was done in cafeterias. In fact, most activity took place outside the ‘home’, which a person only occupied half his nights. This will be explained later.

The standard greeting between members of the opposite sex was a kiss, and between same sex individuals, an embrace. Heterosexuality was prevalent and acceptable enough that a man could refuse intimate contact from another man and not violate norms, but refusing an offer of sex from a woman was a serious crime which could land a man in re-education.

Of course, since not everyone was equally blessed with looks or grace, it is inevitable that some people become more popular than others. A variety of entertainers (Musicians, Artists, Derbyball players) existed in the Colonies, some reaching celebrity status. To ensure some level of equal access of all to all, night visits were done by reservations. If a person desired someone in particular, he could enter her name on the telescreen and book a night with her in advance. He could only do this once a week. All other appointments were random. The females did likewise, choosing one man a week to visit during the night.

Visits were alternated by gender. One night, all the women would stay in their rooms to be visited by men. The next, the women would leave their rooms to visit the men. One was locked out of his/her room half of the time, and could only sleep in other people’s beds. The other half of the time, that person would share his/her bed with a stranger. Every room’s door was only accessible through a fingerprint or retina scan, to limit unwanted visits and intrusions. You could only enter your room (during the day or during the nights you stayed at home) or the room of the person you’re assigned the night with.

The New Man had a much higher libido than today’s schlub, but was correspondingly less fertile. Contraception was prohibited and no one knew their fathers. The Colony’s mega-database kept track of such things and prevented incest. The pregnant and women on their periods were still available for nightwalking, as oral and anal sex were completely normalized. Painkillers and lubricant could be delivered to their rooms with the click of a button.

CHAPTER ONE

–Randis–

Randis XE-606 woke up from his thermobed to the familiar blue and orange of his room’s atmospheric simulator. Around him, the OLED walls swirled with grey clouds and dim lights to mimic the dawn, while his bed underneath vibrated in an unpleasant, but not unbearable, pattern. A feminine yawn arose from his side.

“It’s time to get up already? Oh gosh, I’m still pretty tired,” groaned a voice from underneath a tangled mess fethiye escort of red hair. The two of them didn’t do a lot of sleeping last night.

Randis’ stomach growled. He would have to shower before breakfast to avoid offending anyone with the stench of sex and sweat. No doubt, the redhead was thinking the same thing.

“Honey, you thrust really hard into me last night. My pussy’s all sore today.”

“Just head over to the pharmacy, they’ll fix you up with Douche-balm, uh…”

“Marxa FO-329. It’s okay, I don’t learn guys’ names either. Wanna head over to the showers?”

“Yeah, let’s go.”

Randis hit the light switch, turning off the fake sky, before the two left the room. After this, Marxa wouldn’t be able to enter his room again without him.

The two held hands as they entered the corridor between the domeciles. Hundreds of people were starting to get up and walk to the showers, of all shapes and sizes. It was a vast hodgepodge of skin colors and body types, though none of them would bat an eye.

Randis was a reasonably attractive male within this crowd. He had well-set, masculine features, stood at a taller-than-average 5’8”, and had an attractive amount of chest hair. Women liked a slightly older-looking man, though everyone retained most of their youth thanks to genetic alterations and hormonal therapy. Everyone had working telomerases throughout their lives, so their cells always remained young.

The only signs of age were those that were not linked to bodily deterioration: the growth of body hair, the face’s changes in shape, and some baldness, which was actually seen as contributing positively, some amount of physical variety in men.

Randis himself was thirty-eight, but his muscles, bones and organs were still at their peak. He still had more than half his life to live before his programmed death at 70, and he was enjoying every minute of it. He was about to take a shower with his 18 year old partner from last night, and then it was off to the cafeteria, where he would flirt with some different girls for day sex.

The communal showers were a veritable sea of people and flowing water. This one held a capacity of a thousand, though only a couple hundred were occupying it now. From one tiled wall to another were men and women with all the hues and shades of skin and hair imaginable. Every ‘race’, if one could still conceive of the idea, was represented there, and every mixture in between. Everyone was paired up with their partner from last night except for the occasional unfortunate soul who showered alone, and the lucky man with multiple women around him. That was a breach of courtesy, but not rules.

There were several rows of pipes and spigots for individual use, but during ‘shower hours’ the room was so packed that these were turned off, and water instead came from the ceiling, like rain. The din and rush were tremendous. Randis and Marxa just squeezed themselves into a spot between a large, dark-skinned man fingering a tiny blonde girl who only stood up to his chest, and two pretty boys who were washing each other’s dicks. Such sights were common; testosterone rose higher in the morning, after all. Marxa offered to help the boys out, but they gently refused her.

“They’re lucky I’m reporting them,” she grumbled, before turning to Randis, who had his eyes on an Asian-looking girl ten feet away. “Hey, I’m feeling frisky here,” she reminded him. Randis absent-mindedly fondled her breasts and dipped into her honeypot. The water abruptly stopped. Everyone stopped playing with each other.

SOAP CYCLE IN 3…2…1…

“Close your eyes!” Marxa chirped.

Everyone scrunched their eyes shut and turned their heads down as hair and body wash dripped from the ceiling’s spinning soap jets. Foamy, bubbly soap squirted down haphazardly in a swirling pattern, hitting the tallest people first, dripping down and splashing onto everyone below. You learned quickly during your juvenile years not to get it in your eyes, but most people covered their faces with their hands so as to not breathe it in, either.

SOAP CYCLE FINISHED. APPLY VIGOROUSLY

This is where the fun really took off, as it was basically a grope-fest. Everyone would scrub each other altruistically, leaving the job of cleaning themselves to someone else, usually a complete stranger. Girls would present their breasts and buttocks for grabbing while they in turn would wash the men’s sausages. If you were standing next to some flailing idiot, this is the time when you’re most likely to get soap in your eyes.

Having a strange girl’s gentle hands on your soapy cock and balls was a pleasant sensation, but you’d break social etiquette if you came in the shower. Some nymphos did walk around, however, jerking men off to completion, treating shower time as an opportunity to catch as much cum on their chests as possible. Marxa was one of those girls, and she already left to find a alanya escort circle of men to surround her.

Randis didn’t mind as he was busy sliding his soapy erection between the golden-tan thighs of some platinum blond girl. He didn’t even have to ask; she was happy to have company down there as she held a boner in each hand. The two gentlemen were returning the favor by scrubbing her arms and washing her hair. Randis waited for the shower to resume, so he could wash the soap off his dick and enter her. In the meantime, he was politely cleaning her back for her. A pair of feminine ebony hands was already behind him, scrubbing his abs and pecs.

RINSE CYCLE ON

The torrent resumed, washing away everyone’s dirt and soap. The hands on Randis’ nipples lowered and started wiping the soap off of Randis’ erection. The girl in front of him had already begun stuffing her mouth with both her friends’ cocks when he planted his hands on her hips and spread her cheeks apart.

“Mff!” Luckily she was already aroused, or else it would have been painful to insert his rod into her during a shower.

The black hands that were previously caressing Randis suddenly slipped a finger into his ass. “GOD-“

“Don’t forget about me,” said the owner of those hands.

Frazzled, and a bit aroused at her impudence, Randis withdrew from the platinum blond’s tight pussy, handing her to one of the men she was blowing. “Thanks,” said the man, as he turned the girl around and took Randis’ place inside her, as his friend was nursing his erection between her jaws.

Randis turned to face the obsidian beauty behind him, glancing at her face only a brief second before he plopped the berries of her breasts inside his mouth. He had to thank her for cleaning him so well, after all. She knelt down and eagerly stuffed his penis into her own mouth, tasting what was left of the albino girl’s pussy on his dick after it was exposed to a torrent of water. Her full lips literally made short work of his erection, and she stood back up with a mouthful of cum.

“Woah. It’s usually never this quick,” Randis blushed.

“Sure it isn’t,” the onyx-eyed vixen teased.

Feeling both a sense of duty and wounded pride, Randis blurted “Give me your name! I’ll prove it some time this week.”

“Xandra HG-621. Gotta hurry. I’m booked,” she said temptingly.

The water stayed on just long enough for everyone to finish cleaning themselves and trade names, if they wanted.

The mass of individuals walked out of the showers single file into a long corridor filled with giant fans lining the walls, floor and ceiling, blow-drying everyone with warm air. Beyond this was another giant room, filled with mirrors and grooming equipment. Most men and women separated by sex at this point, since the girls needed more time to brush their long hair.

Breakfast in the cafeteria was a generally brief affair, lacking the socialization of lunch and dinner, though some fraternization took place. People were more interested in getting their meals, which were perfectly balanced for nutrition and energy.

Randis took his tray and waited in line to receive his mealpack, a light sealed container of food, and nutri-milk, a beverage fortified with all the necessary vitamins and minerals. He took his usual purple extra-large pack, with extra protein, and sat at a table full of twenty-something girls. Randis had a much higher sex drive than other men, and even other women. There were 10,000 women on this floor, and he had already slept with over half of them, as well as several hundred women on the floors above and below.

“Mind if I sit here, ladies?” he said as he already sat down. He knew by the way they were eyeballing his big, floppy weiner, that they would already say yes.

“Sure!” came the expected response. Randis hooked his package on one of the table’s slots, and pressed the ‘cook’ button. The package slowly started filling up with steam. After the little beeper sounded, he undid the seal, letting the air out to reveal a cooked protein patty and a big, fluffy carbo- biscuit. He wrapped the former with the latter and ate it like a hot dog, taking sips of his nutri-milk in between bites. The girls couldn’t help but admire his appetite and how he just chowed it all down. Their protein patties were sausage shaped, and their biscuits more like big cookies, and they didn’t eat nearly as much. He must exercise a lot to stay in the shape he did.

“Randis, XE-606,” he introduced himself plainly. Asking someone for his last five was a clear sign of interest. Giving away your last five means you’re confident that people will look you up. Luckily his code was easy to remember due to its assonance. He could see the girls’ faces as they tried to memorize his name. They wasted no time giving him theirs, though he didn’t bother remembering any of them.

“Yanda ZY-919.”

Except a certain green-eyed girl with mousy brown hair. manavgat escort Something about her caused him to study her features a bit more closely. She was certainly beautiful, like hundreds of other women on this floor, but something in her eyes hid something else. Her eyes blinked and dilated as she studied his face closely in return.

“You look really familiar, have we met before?”

“I don’t think so. But you look familiar too,” Randis struggled to remember if he had seen her somewhere before. He would have to come home later and check his history on the tele-screen.

The tip of his exposed penis touched the cold underside of the metal table.

“Yow!” He scooched away, discovering he had an erection. Desensitized as he was, new girls never got him hard just on mere sight alone. Yanda blushed and her friends laughed at the two of them.

“Maybe you two should hook up! After me, of course,” one of the saucier blondes chuckled as she leaned on Randis and kissed his cheek.

“What were you planning on doing today?” asked one of the girls.

“Going for a swim, then jamming with my Synth-band.”

“You play? What instrument?”

“The Swarmer. Just with my friends, you know?”

“Hey no kidding, Yanda plays the Swarmer too!”

“I’m not that good,” the brunette admitted shyly.

“Nonsense! We should jam with your band! Yanda, I mean. The rest of us could be your groupies!”

Randis decided to ditch the swimming session to introduce Yanda and her three friends to his mates in their reserved jam hut, one of the interest rooms in the floor’s massive recreation wing. The adventurous girls were excited to meet musicians, and started taking their seats in the middle of the floor.

“This is Tubal, he plays the Continuum, Nefrit with the Percussioner, and Shangtee with the Eigenharp. My Swarmer’s over there in the corner.”

There were four hammock-pads, suspended from the ceiling around a center hookah. Nefrit pulled out a small sack of Psychedelic jelly beans, handing each girl a fluorescent-patterned bean, and two to Randis so he could catch up with the other jammers.

The artists each took a vaporized Delirium hit from the hookah, to relax their bodies and make their moods more conducive to music. The jelly beans temporarily dissolved the ego, allowing them to send electroencephalic signals from their brains to their instruments without the filter of subjectivity. It also allowed a person to maintain an erection after a dozen orgasms.

The girls, also high on beans, each mounted an artist and began started an organic rhythm with their hips, each girl bucking in unison. With the beat established, it only took a little while for the musicians to find each other’s melody and harmonize.

Yanda stared into Randis, her green irises almost eclipsed in the black sea of her dilated pupils. He stared back into her pools, seeing them as a black window into space. He stepped through her eyes into space, rising above the green Earth, filling the room with the uplifting sounds of his Swarmer. Her tight canal gently milked his shaft, squeezing out his worries and cares.

The other players grokked with his astral journey, unaware that it was inspired by a woman. They added in their celestial tunes, each one reflecting a mind’s expansion and transcendance from earthly limits. The symphony rose from Earth until it vanished as a small speck of dirt, until only the humming stars could be discerned. Every instrument emitted a low vibration. Likewise, all the girls had ceased their thrusting, and grasped their partner’s poles with their quivering pussies.

Harmonized by positivity, each member was confident to take his instrument to new heights, filling the room with sweeping arpeggios of different speeds. The girls resumed their motions to her master’s tempo, enslaved by his rhythm. Everyone reached the first orgasm, which was quickly followed by two more in this heightened state of ecstasy.

Randis’ penis was Yanda’s only anchor to the world, and she clenched it tightly like one would a rope to save from drowning, only she wanted to drown. She gripped and squeezed with every thrust, trying to prevent his penis from escaping her deepest reaches, yet she needed him to leave so he could re-enter her, bringing in new waves of pleasure upon arrival. This tug and pull, the pain of separation and the ecstasy of union, introduced a duality to her partner’s mind. Minor chords started dotting the musical landscape, introducing darkness and sadness to the euphoria of the major chords until both were in balance with each other. Life and death played an eternal game of chase, and light and darkness gave existence to each other.

Randis’ mind was filled with a contemplative mood, and his Swarmer dropped out of the harmony, letting the others continue as a Triad. He looked around the room, seeing his friends playing their instruments while being ridden by pixies. Nefrit’s girl was slowly cradling her hips back and forth, while Tubal’s bounced on him in short, staccato bursts. Shangtee’s blonde nymph was slamming him so loud the noises of their genitals clapping together could be picked out from the music. Yet none of them were in discord with each other despite the fact they were engaged in separate acts of lovemaking with their own levels of passion.

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

“Let’s…” said Tarissa, just as the corridor plunged into blackness, “…go!”

Her words vanished into the void as she felt herself being spun around, losing all sense of direction. The whirling stopped, but the light did not return. She steadied her breath, sword still held out in front of her, although how she would use it if she could not see anything she did not know.

“Is everyone here? Light!” she called out.

There was no response, and the way her voice echoed off the walls told her that the corridor was now empty. If it was even the same corridor, which she doubted. Whatever magic had extinguished the lights had also whisked them away to different parts of the complex, separating them, and making it difficult to find their way back together again – at least without giving away their location to their enemies.

The demon itself, she felt sure, would not be inconvenienced by anything as minor as the absence of light. The members of the harem should be as blind as she, though… assuming, of course, that Sashjant had not thought to equip them with some sort of magical item. The adventurers were at very much of a disadvantage, caught in a maze of corridors they did not know and could not even see. But how big could that maze be? There was no obvious limit, but surely magic could hide only so much?

She reached out, touched the wall. She was still in some sort of corridor, then. All she could do was keep moving forward, and perhaps she would find somewhere there was light. Or the demon would find her, which would at least give her the chance of doing something. She stepped forward, taking measured steps, trailing her left hand along the wall, holding her sword out in front of her, as if menacing the inky blackness ahead.

Her ears caught the sound of fighting. One of her companions, probably Dolrim, had found something, but she was not there to help. She picked up her pace, hoping to find some turning in the corridor that led in the right direction. Her hand found the wooden surface of a door. It was a little too regular to be real wood, even she could tell that, but it led in the direction of the sounds, no longer of fighting, but of muffled words she could not quite catch. That was not a good sign.

She yanked the door open, but there was only more blackness beyond. She stepped inside, waving her sword about but found nothing. Taking a few steps forward, the tip of her blade hit something soft. No sound though, no indications of movement. She stretched out her free hand, found what appeared to be a bale of cloth blocking her way. Soon she established that she had found nothing more exciting than a small storeroom, with no other exit. She bit back a curse of frustration, and stepped back out into the corridor. There could be dozens of rooms in here, and it would take long enough to search them all if she could see, let alone under these conditions.

Silence had descended once again. Had Dolrim been victorious? If he had faced the demon alone, that seemed doubtful, but it was by no means certain that he had. In addition to Sashjant hjmself, there should be four women in here. One of them was a warrior, a tall brunette who dressed in barbaric leathers, but the other three had seemed harmless enough, merely captives he had taken along the way, chosen for looks, not fighting prowess. A harem was, after all, not intended for personal defence, especially not for something that probably believed itself to be largely invulnerable in the first place.

She found another door; nothing but silent blackness beyond once again. There was no point in exploring that, then; it would be better to stay with the corridor. If Sashjant and the barbarian were prowling about looking for intruders, that was where they would be. At most she might find one of the other women cowering in a room, and she could not see how that would be useful. They would just give her position away, and she had no means of freeing them from their slavery.

She continued walking. Then, just as she turned a corner, her foot bumped into something soft. She knelt, feeling about with her hand. A woman, unconscious. It had to be the redhead, still under the effects of Almandar’s spell. At least she knew she was close to the entrance now.

There was a soft sound behind her, and she span, still in a half-crouch, sword levelled as something whirred through the air towards her. It hit her, knocking her back, but not with great force. Too late, she realised that the thing was a net, with cords that magically wrapped themselves around her. Something tore, she could hear the sound, but could not tell what it was. She tried to stand, tried to throw the net off herself, but it was like fighting a creature with a dozen tentacles.

Even as she moved, the cords of the net tightened, forcing her legs into a kneeling position, thighs pinioned to her calves. They yanked her left arm into her side, and she sensed that only her gorget stopped them from strangling her. She could ardahan escort still move her sword arm… it must have been one of the cords she had heard tearing, cutting itself on the sharp blade. Which meant that she had a chance to cut herself free.

If only she could do so in time.

She grunted with exertion as the cords bit tighter, forcing her into an uncomfortable position, even the upper part of her sword arm bound to her chest, only free from the elbow down. She tried to pull it against the cords across her chest, hoping to free her other arm, or perhaps even both.

“Oh, I don’t think so,” said a voice, masculine and silky smooth. Her sword was pulled from her grasp, thrown away to clatter on the floor. She lashed out with her fist, for that at least was still free, but only caught her assailant a glancing blow. He laughed, cruelly. “That too, will avail you little. You are my prisoner, accept it. You have failed.” Before she could reach for her dagger, he had pulled that loose, too. Evidently he could see perfectly well in the blackness, just as she had suspected.

She tried to pull herself up with her free arm, and grabbed at the cords around her body. Pulling them had no effect, it just made them constrict tighter. There was nothing she could do now, she realised, but wait and conserve her strength. Perhaps she would get a better opportunity later. Her companions were, after all, still out there – or so she hoped.

She heard the sound of a muttered spell, saw a flash of bluish light that somehow failed to illuminate anything around it, and then heard a woman groaning. Sashjant had obviously woken up the redhead.

“How many of them are there?” he asked, voice calm yet urgent.

“Four… I think… I only caught a brief glimpse. There might be more.”

“Hah!” snorted Sashjant with a self-satisfied sound, “and four I have captured. You see, warrior woman,” Tarissa could sense he had turned back to her now, “you have failed. Utterly, as do all who challenge me.”

Four, thought the paladin. The woman had only seen four of them. She had missed one, most likely Vardala, with her small size, and at least one of them was free in the complex. Even if only one remained free, perhaps he or she could rescue the others. It was a thought worth holding on to. All was not yet lost, no matter what Sashjant believed.

“I can’t be certain,” said the woman’s voice, “it was only a moment.”

“Then let us take this captive to the throne room, and be sure.” Sashjant grabbed at Tarissa’s free arm, and began to drag her along the floor. He was clearly strong, she had to give him that, but what else could you expect from a demon?

“But I can’t see!” wailed the redhead.

“It is a magical protection, part of the wards on this place. Follow the sound, Kara, you do not need me to help you.”

Tarissa felt herself being unceremoniously pulled along a series of twisting corridors, moving deeper into the maze. She grit her teeth and put up with the indignity – there was nothing much to be achieved by complaining.

In fact, it was not long before she heard some doors being opened, and then light spilled across her face. She was dragged into a well-lit room, and then half-thrown, half-pulled against a series of scatter cushions.

The room was sumptuously decorated, and from her position on the floor she could see a number of chairs and low tables, one of the chairs high and gilded, which indeed fitted the description of a throne. There were statues here, too, of many-armed demons, prowling cats, and near-naked dancing girls. From her vantage point, she could just make out platters, pitchers, and bowls on the table tops, some of them brimming with rich food.

Sashjant stood back from her, looking down at his prize. He looked fully human, although of exotic extraction. His skin was dark, a rich brown colour, similar to that of many Jalibians, although his facial features were more akin to those of Haredil natives. He had long black hair that fell in a mane around his shoulders, a short, pointed beard, and midnight-black eyes that glowered with disdainful cruelty.

He had on a wrap-around robe of what appeared to be purple silk, trimmed in gold. Unlike the robes of Haredil wizards, it reached to just below his knees, and she could see he was wearing matching silk trousers and white slippers decorated with silver thread, A wide, golden belt circled his waist, tightening the robe to show off the power of his shoulders and muscular chest beneath the silk.

“You brought the sword?” he asked, evidently speaking to Kara, who had just entered the room, blinking in the sudden light. “Never mind. Put it on the table, it is of no use to her. Now, close the door, there is something I must do.”

The redhead acted obediently, as Sashjant moved to sit on his throne. There was an orb set into the right arm-rest, a black glossy sphere over which the demon moved adıyaman escort his hand. “There,” he said, a moment later, “now we will not be interrupted.”

“You see,” he said, standing up and walking over to the captive paladin, “just in case there are any more of you, I have shielded this room with a disorientation spell. Even if anyone could find it in the darkness, they will lose all sense of direction, and be turned away from the door. Only my own followers are safe from the effect. I believe I have captured all of your companions, but even if I have not, nobody is coming to save you.”

She tried not to let the disappointment show. There was always a chance, so long as she remained alive, no matter how small it might be becoming.

“But let us see. Open your mind to me, mortal woman, and tell me what you know.”

He leaned closer, dark eyes wide, a hypnotic gaze that she could sense boring into her soul. She sent a hurried, silent, prayer to Pardror and then closed her mind of all thoughts. It was part of the spiritual training of her order, a part of the mental discipline required of paladins. She locked eyes with the demon, imagining a solid wall in her mind’s eye, Her other thoughts she pushed to the back of her mind, out of reach of the demon’s probing mental fingers. She could feel those fingers, testing the imaginary wall, jabbing and searching for a way in, a most unpleasant sensation in her head, yet one she steadfastly refused to overwhelm her.

Sashjant snarled and pulled back, baring his teeth, and banging a table in frustration. “She has had some training to resist this… some method that keeps me out! I can sense her thoughts, but not read them. Curse you, human – do not think that this will stop me.”

He visibly calmed himself down, stroking his robe, although it was not really ruffled, and turned back to Kara, standing dutifully by the side of the room. “You said there were four of them. What did they look like?”

“A dwarf, a man, and a woman – and her, of course,” she indicated Tarissa, “the man had dark hair, that was all I had time to see. Oh, and he was not wearing armour.”

“The dwarf I have captured myself,” said Sashjant proudly, “Geska has him captive. She hates dwarves, you know,” he added conversationally to the paladin, “now that I know I don’t need him, I suppose I will let her kill him, if she wishes. Gut’rul has the man, she sent me a message,” Tarissa wondered how she had done that; perhaps it was part of the magical hold he had over them, “so he need not concern us, either.”

He paused, cocking his head to one side, as if listening. “The woman… yes, someone has entered Rupinder’s study, that must be her. Well, if she is not captured, we can still neutralise her.” He stepped back to the throne, and placed his hand on the orb once more. “The door to the study is now locked. Only Rupinder and I can open it. So, if this stranger overcomes my woman, she will be trapped inside. But, if Rupinder overcomes her… then, we have no problem,”

“All defeated,” he added with a grin, stepping back from the throne. “Now it only remains to discover how they got in, and seal the gap. And to find what happened to Mei-Xing.” He turned towards Tarissa, looking down at her trussed up form. “Have you killed her? She does not answer my sendings, and she has not come back. So she is either dead, or held captive somewhere I cannot reach. Which is it?”

The paladin, naturally, said nothing.

“No, I thought you would require more persuasion to tell me. Of course, I could read the mind of one of your companions; they cannot all be as shielded as you. But there is another possibility.”

“You strike me, warrior, as a woman of honour and principle,” he spat the words, as if they were a curse, “the sort that feels the need to help others. Perhaps you wanted to ‘rescue’ my followers, not realising that they enjoy my company, and serve my superior majesty as all mortals should. But, yes, protect the weak, all that crap, never allow the innocent to suffer needlessly.”

“Well, what else are the innocent for? They aren’t much use for anything, now are they? So I’ll tell you what I am going to do. The two men are of little interest, and I know they are captive, but the other woman. Ah, now, she may be trapped, but Rupinder is not too strong, so how do I know what has happened? I will go there, and make certain that she is captured, if she is not already. It is a pity I cannot use the net, but it seems to be busy with you at the moment, and it is not as if I have no other powers. Either way, I shall capture her, and bring her here.”

“Then, I shall torture and rape her while you watch. Every time you answer a question of mine honestly, I shall spare her one little bit of pain. How does that sound?”

The paladin glared at him, struggling not to allow the hatred and anger to overcome her emotions. If he was somehow able to actually carry karabük escort through on his threat, that might become impossible, but for now she just managed to keep a check on her rage. This creature was truly a monster.

Sashjant grinned, a flash of amusement. “Well, we shall see, shan’t we?” he asked, his voice almost gleeful.

“This is the sort of thing you enjoy?” she said, keeping her voice steady. She did not want to rise to the bait, but the longer she could keep him talking, the more chance she might have. “You think you are justified in what you do? Do the feelings of others matter so little to you? Your philosophy, if I can even call it such, is empty and barren.”

“Oh, I think not,” replied the demon, “if the weak do not wish to be dominated, they should not be weak. Yes, I am more powerful than any mere mortal, but that is because I have supernatural power in my veins, it would be an insult for me not to use it. It is my right and my destiny to rule over humans.”

“And it is pleasurable, let me assure you. The strong rule over the weak, because that is the way of the universe. Without it, we would all be dragged down by the pathetic mewling sops of gutter humanity. Lessened, cheapened, by their gutless, worthless, lives. There would be mere anarchy, and anarchy of the most debased kind.”

“Do you believe we should help people? That we should protect the innocent? Let them protect themselves, if they can! It is not for us to waste our energy doing their work for them. The weak disgust me, the innocent disgust me, for they do not have the courage to do as they should. And those who disgust me… they are lucky if I let them live. I am power, and majesty, and a superior intellect that cows mere mortals before me. I will not debase myself with their craven stupidity.”

“Your beliefs are a weakness, and I shall show it to you. I shall show it to when I rape your friend in front of you, and you know that you are powerless to stop it. You will either tell me what I want to know, thus proving your inferiority, or you will betray your ridiculous rules of honour. Either way, I will have proven myself right, and proven you wrong in your beliefs.”

“And all the while, as I torment your friend, you will be quaking in fear, because you know that, once I have finished with her, it shall be your body that I defile next. Think on that, human!”

He strode towards the door, clearly uninterested in any further conversation, but it opened before he even got there. A woman strode into the room; Tarissa instantly recognised her as one of the harem, the dark-skinned one who had appeared to be a secretary or clerk of some kind.

“Ah, Rupinder,” said Sashjant, “I see that you must have…”

“You bastard!” screamed the woman, hurling a dagger in the demon’s direction.

He was so surprised that he did not even try to dodge, standing there open-mouthed as the knife thudded into his chest. He looked down at it, uncomprehending, and then up at Rupinder.

“I don’t understand…” he said, pulling the knife out casually. Even from where she was lying, Tarissa could see that the wound closed up almost instantly, leaving no sign of injury through the slash in Sashjant’s robe.

From the blackness through the doorway came a stream of glowing white magical missiles, and this time, the demon did move, although he could not avoid them all, and bursts of light showered around him, causing him to shout in anger and apparent pain, as his hands moved in a blur to cast his own spells.

Even as he did so, Sashjant’s skin rippled, his body warping and transforming as he took on his true form. Orange and black fur sprouted over his head and hands, and a whiter patch on the exposed parts of his chest, where the robe had been slashed and come partly open. His shape changed little, save for developing an even more powerful muscular physique, but his face was stretching out into an animal-like snout.

It took only a brief moment, and then Sashjant’s true form was revealed. A tall, athletic humanoid, furred, and with a striped head that, colouration aside, looked rather like that of a lion, albeit without the mane. Strong and sharp teeth glistened as he growled, an inhuman snarl from the back of his throat.

It came as no surprise to Tarissa to see Calleslyn rushing into the room, a magical ward raised in front of her, and already preparing to cast another spell. But where was Almandar? Sashjant had implied that he had been captured, and, so far, there was no sign that Calleslyn had been able to free him. Would the elven magician be able to take down the demon on her own?

The red-headed woman – Kara – ran across the room, reaching out for what appeared to be a wand laid on one of the tables. It was unclear whether she intended to use it herself or pass it to Sashjant, although her intention to protect her master was undoubted. But she never reached the table, for Rupinder caught her in a flying tackle, knocking her to the floor, where the pair struggled violently.

Tarissa fumed at her helplessness as bolts of magical energy began to fly across the room. Sashjant had raised a shield that deflected spells, but he still had not managed to land any decisive blow on his assailant. So far the battle was even, but there was nothing the paladin could do to help out.

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

Vivian spent two days pondering her faith in the rundown house looking at herself in the mirror. Pink skin and the long tail showed no signs of disappearing and nothing she came up with helped her in any way. The priestess’s connection to her old God was completely severed. In the morning of the third day, strange hunger forced the pink demon Vivian to look for food.

Exploring the village the food situation of the bandits was not any better than Vivian’s. The ones who were supposed to be eating spooned air from empty barrels.

Everywhere Vivian walked the eyes of the males followed her. No hostility was in them but a deep longing for something.

In general, the entire situation caused the former priestess to pity the vile men. Despite their actions, they still were human puppets to the same dark god that had corrupted Vivian. She did not understand what exactly had happened to them but she knew they too needed to eat. So Vivian and her thralled men went to search for food. The men followed her out of the village without asking.

Vivian did not know how to hunt or gather edibles form the forest and none of the bandits picked anything that she would dare to eat. They were bringing all kinds of plants to her without a single command. Vivian decided to find someone who had gotten the food for them. Maybe a trade of sorts thought Vivian driven by her hunger.

** * **

The group of armed men and the naked succubus found a road and it did not take long for them to find humans.

Vivian had wondered which way to go on the forest road when another group of armed men approached them.

“Demon is among the bandits,” yelled the first soldier in the approaching group.

“Shieldwall,” commanded their leader and the men soon formed a tight shield line.

They approached in a steady formation without letting any gaps to form.

Vivian could not believe these fellow humans could just attack her without provocation and just stood in shock. The bandits around her did draw their swords and moved to protect her.

“Be careful the demon is trying to charm us, resist your impulses,” yelled the leader of these men.

“You will lose the sick need after you see its blood spilled.”

“Stay in the formation you fools,” the leader kept yelling to his soldiers.

One soldier dropped his spear and shield to run at the demon. Several others followed his example.

Fear was clear in the leader’s eyes when he realized this was no low-level charm a human could resist with only strength of his will. Soon he too joined his comrades dropping their weapons and revealing their cocks.

The mass of men around the succubus almost doubled. Vivian did not know why all of the men had revealed their cocks again. She had not given any command this time. The men had blank faces but their erect cocks were messaging intent enough.

Vivian’s body began to burn from hunger looking at the cocks. She could distinguish the new ones from the old ones by their shapes alone. Realising this did not make the formerly chaste mind the of the priestess happy at all. Her body starting to make lewd sounds on its own did not help with the lack of happiness. The walls of her hungry hole moved against each other and stream of love juice dripped down her thigh.

“This is the sick will of a vile god. Your desire is clear to me and we share the same curse. Now my new brothers, let us treat the evil infliction we are suffering from,” the noble toned words were more to comfort the lust filled mind of the apostle rather than the men.

Vivian barely recognized her body as her own and it belonged to the dark god more than to her. So it was only natural to let the sick body to be used according to the God’s intent who had created it. At least that was the logic the desire filled Vivian’s mind tried to build.

Vivian’s attempt to justify her lust was interrupted as the mass of men sensed her intent behind the words. It did not take long for cocks to find their destinations. Those that did not find holes were rubbed against the pink skin. One of the men took the apostle’s tail and began to suck it. There was no hole in it and only seemed like a strong tail but it did not take long for the female to discover the tip was one of her new erogenous zones.

Tingles of pleasure shot through Vivian’s body even from the cocks that were not inside her. None of the men showed any signs of emotion on their faces, only desire filled eyes.

Many strong arms kept Vivian in the air and all her holes milked the men dry one by one. All with the same self-moving hunger. With sheer desperation for more nothing was allowed to spill if it could be helped.

Even when all cock-milk was dried up the rods were unable to soften and kept coming. The same cocks coming, again and again, started to feel comforting to Vivian. Like there would at least be one thing she could trust in her life and that was the cocks that never left her for long.

When a cock Vivian did not recognize was pushed into her from behind bahçelievler escort she forcefully turned around making several men fall down.

A small merchant caravan had come to the road the endless one succubus orgy was blocking. They had sent some men to check the group of soldiers surrounding something on the road, in the end, the entire caravan crew and its escort were now lining up to the inviting demon.

The apostle getting to know the newest cock was interrupted by a screaming woman. Some of the men had surrounded a female that had been with the caravan. Most of her clothes had already been ripped by the time Vivian managed to push herself past the mass of men.

A blond woman was slowly sobbing as two of the men she had known for many years were now railing her like a spitroast. Her husband simply stood there rubbing his cock waiting his turn. The woman could not understand why this was happening or why her body was liking it.

Vivian could not let this continue and she pushed the men away with her superior strength. The blond female took this opportunity to run away to the woods, mixed juices streaming down her legs.

Somewhere in Vivian’s mind she understood this could be bad and told the men to carry all the food they could find from the caravan and return to the bandit village.

** * **

Vivian had now over doubled the men that did not seem to be able to function without her. The only thing they had shown any initiative was to protect her or sexually use that other female.

The apostle did not exactly want to commune with the Dark Goddess but she was the only one able to give any answers to Vivian so she altered the chant she had used to talk to her previous Goddess. Of course with Vivian’s low standing, the God had not talked to her back. Regardless, talking to any god should be done in a polite tone to not make them mad and send curses after the insulters.

“Dear Dark God who so bless me. Would you ever be so kind that you would answer some of my questions. Please,” prayed the apostle in a fear-stricken tone.

“What you want?” Came irritated voice of the Goddess.

Being one of the Dark Goddess’s highest ranked pawns on the human realms Vivian’s connection would not be cluttered with millions of prayers. It was immediately heard by the Dark God it was intended to and in a polite tone she was not used to hearing anything aimed at her. Goddess of carnal lust and fulfiller of desires was not someone you normally prayed to adding please to the end.

Vivian’s limited confidence was further shaken by the initial blunt response but she now had to continue or face the wrath of an ignored god.

“Dear Dark God can you tell me why all the men act strangely around me. Please,” came innocent toned question from the naked succubus.

There was a pause before the laughter of the Dark God filled Vivian’s mind.

“I gave you many blessings and one of them entices any unprotected adult human males to desire you to a point that they want nothing else in their lives. Just a wish from you is a command they would die for. If you would be separated they might just kill themselves off from despair. Of course, if you are occupied they might go for any available females.”

“What is your name my dear Dark God,” asked the apostle wanting to know in case she could find any weakness from it. Evil gods had vices and those could be exploited by smart mortals according to the teachings of the divine gods.

“You can call me Sara,” came the god’s amused reply.

Vivian had never heard a god with that name. Then again all evil gods she knew were male. Teachings of her church never mentioned any female dark gods by name so asking it had been pulling straws in the first place.

“What are the other blessings you gave me?”

“What fun would it be if I told you all. Be glad I even told what that blessing was out on a whim.”

“I thank you Dark God Sara for your time,” Vivian said not wanting to be cursed by the vile god and to end the connection.

“Thinking of my time. That reminds me. I had a command I wanted to give you to help on your way to spread my truth to the world and undermine my annoying sister.”

“Go east my apostle and gather the orc and barbarian tribes to fight the evil that is the church of the Hypocritical Bitch Goddess Serana,” Those were the words that made Vivian start her journey to the east.

When Vivian had served the Goddess her full name with titles had been Gracefull Saint Goddess of The Protecting Virgin Light Serana. Definitely not the shortest god name Vivian knew but according to the ancient scrolls she had been personally very insisting on that name. She had even refused to give any blessings to the high priestess of that era before she made it official.

Vivian was strongly disturbed by the idea her holy Goddess had a sister like this so the apostle simply thought it was something the vile being had done to ridicule her.

** bağcılar escort * **

It did not take long for the group of humans travelling in the wilds to find orcs who were extremely protective of the few lands they could keep safe from any human influences.

“No humans allowed. Leave. Even with demons,” announced an orc from top of a rock.

“I have come to spread the word of the Dark God Sara to gather the orc tribes under her banner to fight the humans,” came from Vivian in a bored tone.

The orc on the rock asked, “You mean the Fulfiller of desires?”

Vivian nodded.

“Sure we fight humans, just fulfil our desires first. Then we take you to our village to fulfil theirs. Such is the bargain we have done for generations when the great fulfiller summons us to war.”

“And what is your wish,” asked the apostle.

“Not sure about the chief, he wants some big stuff but we boys want something more personal. My grandfather told me stories of the last war. How he never forgot the time he had with the apostle. If you want us to take you to our chief then come to sit on my lap and make all of us limp.”

The orc sat down to a rock while taking off the belt skirt keeping his nethers hidden.

Vivian could not turn away from the revealed green cock. In fact, some force made her approach it. She sat on the orc’s lap feeling it was the right thing to do, the thing that was expected of her.

The first muscular rod was soon pushed in and Vivian found herself to be the one against the rock. Her shapely breasts were pressed against the cold stone as she was rammed from behind. Vivian’s nipples hardened against the cold surface by the waves of heat radiating from her pussy going at full speed sucking the orc.

“My grandfather was lying, this is better than war,” announced the orc to his fellows. He had stopped moving and let the cum milking walls do the work they were made to do.

It did not take long for Vivian’s proficient insides to get the seed from all five and they were soon moving to the Orc camp.

** * **

“Help us destroy the human colony and we will follow you as the dark seducer commands,” were the only words the orc chief gave to Vivian. He even left the hut and ran away after that.

The chieftain did not want his mind to be clouded by the dark magic and settle for anything less beneficial to his tribe.

Two orcs escorted the apostle to the human colony that was built to civilize this area of the wild lands. Most of the trip they kept poking Vivian with their cocks but always retreated trying to prevent themselves interrupting the journey by railing the woman against the ground.

When they reached the ridge from which top the human settlement was visible the two orcs left to join the rest of their kind that had been following Vivian from more than a safe distance.

Vivian did not like the idea of just walking to a fellow human city and making all of them be thralled by the curse of the Dark God. Something was compelling the apostle to complete the task but it did not dictate how she should do it.

The apostle decided to trick the settlement that proximately housed two thousand humans to run away. There was only one threat that would guarantee that and that was a zombie infection. Settlement of this size in a remote location would not house many holy warriors who would be able to fight a zombie horde and letting the infection pollute their only water source would make them run away in panic.

It was a common tactic during wartime especially if one side was losing and had no other options but normally not done as several holy warriors could deal with large groups of zombies easily.

The newly built town only got water from the river flowing next to it so all the apostle needed to do was to pretend to infect it. Vivian only needed zombies but lucky for her there was a group of around hundred men around her that could be made act the part on her instructions.

It did not take long for Vivian to get the males to whine in the soul-wrecking tone usually only zombies did. It was not exactly the same but close enough. The apostle walked the men along the shallow river towards the settlement. Her group coming from upstream the humans hopefully would think something bad was happening to the river and leave.

Vivian stopped in the middle of the river and most of them were waist deep in the slow-moving river. They were relatively far from the settlement but if they went too close humans might see something was wrong with the zombies. Their swaying bodies and howls could be seen and heard from here. The apostle hoped her body would be hidden behind the men.

** * **

Carofina’s first assignment as fully fledged paladin had been to a dusty border town in the middle of nowhere. Sure it was traditional for newest paladins to get the worst assignments. There would be no glory in beating few orcs or operating as the judge over small religious matter ümraniye escort some commoners had. She had gotten used to the idea of spending her two-year assignment here just honing her fighter and magical skills but all of it changed in one moment when a messenger came.

“Zombies, zombies are coming,” yelled the militia messenger to the paladin after barging through the door to her office.

The paladin would have kept trial and judged the man on the spot in a normal situation for breaking protocol but the word “zombies” was all Carofina’s ambitious ears heard.

** * **

This zombie attack was the paladin’s ticket out of this place. Carofina observed the approximately hundred zombies consisting horde from top of the man height mud-wall that was surrounding the town. There were no stones to be found anywhere close here and the few around this area had been used to build the church.

Hidding her long blond hair behind her helmet the paladin rode her horse out of the small wooden gate of the town. Carofina could not risk the two hundred town guard to get infected so they were left behind. Or that’s what the paladin had told them. There would have been enough crossbows at the garrison but there would not be any glory from that to her. Carofina needed to beat this horde alone while the men looking from the wall witnessed it. That should be enough to get her out of this dusty place a year faster, sand was not one of her favourite things.

Riding closer Carofina saw the zombie horde move away from her. Dismounting the horse and telling it to return to the town to save it from bites the holy warrior pursued the horde into the river.

The paladin’s magic let her walk on the river surface and hitting the zombies with her hammer and shield from elevated position would make this task too easy, not to mention the magic she could channel through the hammer.

First bolts of holy light flew towards the mass of fake zombies, they were knocked down and the stream made them flow towards the paladin coming from downstream. As some of them floated past the paladin she could see some of their faces. They looked normal, not rotting at all.

The moment the paladin saw one of the floating men stand up again she knew something was definitely wrong. There now were several men approaching her from all directions. The more eager ones already got hit by the hammer and seeing bright red blood spread made the paladin realize these were living men. It did not take long for Carofina deduct what really was going on. A pink demon was running towards her.

Vivian yelled, “Run I can’t control them when they are like this.”

Carofina’s magic was useless against living demons who manifested physical bodies but her hammer would make quick work of it. This was a succubus and killing her would make the men lose purpose and scatter. The demon was running towards the paladin without any weapons. This would indeed be too easy thought Carofina again smiling under her helmet.

The paladin’s smile froze when several hands rose from the stream of water trying to pull her down. The magic could hold her armour on top of the water but not multiple men on top of it. Carofina’s hammer and shield kept knocking some of them away but she could not kick them off or move too fast or the magic would lose effect under the increasing strain and risk her falling into the river.

Hands of the males the paladin could not strike away kept trying to loosen her full-body armour. One of the hands found a place that made Carofina lose focus for a second and it was all that was needed for her to fall into the river.

Carofina lost her shield to the river flow but her hammer knocked away several more after she managed to restore her stance. These men were still weaker than her and way less protected. Just a strike from her armoured glow was enough for most. The sheer number of them still proved fatal in this situation. The paladin eventually lost mobility of both of her arms and her metal boots were stuck in the river mud.

Vivian managed to get close to the paladin just when they had gotten her helmet and first armour pieces off. When she had pushed one of the men away the apostle had liberated the arm of the paladin who struck her with a knife.

The limp body of the demon was carried to the beach by some of the men. They began no feed their seed to her after pulling the knife out.

The paladin’s triumph of killing the demon did not last for long. The men had not stopped and soon managed to remove rest of her armour. The enhancements should have prevented anything of the sorts happening but Carofina could feel something powerful was weakening and attacking the Goddess’s magic that was in and around her. The attack was coming from the body of the demon. It flowed to the men who amplified its effects. Being this close to them even the inexperienced paladin could sense it but she did not exactly have the time to research the mechanic this horde was using to attack her defences.

Male cocks of the men probing the paladin’s naked skin were not just humiliating her but also assaulting her internal mental walls. Carofina’s body was distorted from the pain of her God-given barriers rumbling away one by one. A stronger paladin might have been able to fight back but this was just a fight between the aura of one goddess’s champion and her rival’s low ranking pawn.

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

Chapter Six: Humanity

I’m alive! You wouldn’t think it, given how long it’s been. Life has been very… life… this 2021, and I really wanted to give this part of the story time. For all of you still here, my undying appreciation, it honestly means so much! A belated special thank you to Victor, who so kindly put together a wonderful wealth of information for me on Romanian culture and history to inform this work. It is still underused in the current posts, (and I’m sure I’m making some mistakes!), but as I develop and expand this world, his help was invaluable. I wish you all Yuletide blessings and hope this double update does something to help you enjoy the darkness. See you in the new year!

For my cub.

Full work summary: Cast out of his village and freezing to death in the snow, Sparrow finds himself rescued by a mysterious and beautiful woman, living in a grand house in the mountains. As he falls under the spell of his strange host, he finds himself brought into a dark world that presents a destiny he never could have imagined. Submission to a vampire is only the beginning.

Previously: Sparrow stumbled across Vestalia, his rescuer and lover, in bed with two chained prisoners, one of whom she then drained of blood and left dead on the floor. Terrified, he fled her manor. But Vestalia pursued him on wings, flew him to the rooftop, and reclaimed his body, drinking from his throat.

Chapter summary: Sparrow contemplates what has happened, under the care of Cyrus, Vestalia’s groundskeeper. He visits the surviving prisoner and finds himself strangely drawn. Vestalia and Cyrus undergo an old practice and we learn more of their dynamic.

The quotations from Japanese poetry at the end are from One Hundred poets, One Poem Each, (Penguin Classics, 2018, tr. Peter MacMillan), no. 25 Fujiwara no Sadakata, no. 44 Fujiwara no Asatada, no. 50 Fujiwara no Yoshitaka. N.B. for art reasons, this story refers to flame lilies as being safe to touch, but they can cause skin irritation, so if you come across them, use gloves!

“Ah, at last, there you are, Little Bird.”

“No, go away.”

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere, we must go to the church.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Why not?”

“Because if I go, then…”

“Ah, then you will have to accept that Marius is dead. You will have to say goodbye.”

“I don’t want to.”

“I know, Little Bird, none of us do. But Marius has left us, the mountain has taken him. We cannot have him back, so we must say goodbye.”

“I don’t want to say goodbye. It feels so heartless. He didn’t want to die, so it feels heartless to say goodbye as if he was a leaving guest.”

“Perhaps. But funerals are not for the dead, you know.”

“Then who are they for?”

“For us. If we don’t bid Marius farewell, then he will not rest and the mountain will be haunted for us. We will lose our home to ghosts and we will never smile again. But if we take the time with him to say goodbye, if we part well, he will be able to leave us for his new existence and the mountain will be for the living once more. All our lives we will feel loss – loss of people, loss of hope, loss of strength, loss of faith. We need our mourning rites, they clean our souls out, let us face a new day. Without rites, we’d be trapped in purgatory even before our own deaths. We’d become ghosts, barely even human anymore, adrift in the spaces between lives.”

“But if we make ourselves feel better, isn’t that like saying he wasn’t important?”

“Oh, Little Bird, not at all, not at all. Mourning rites are how we show how important we are to each other. Humans mourn because we love. We can’t help but love each other. And you are very good at love.”

“I am?”

“You are. Now, come perform the rites and stay human with the rest of us.”

*

Rain drummed idle fingers on the towering window, silver and shadow braiding on the glass and wandering slowly down the pane, drooping and drifting like willow branches. The sound of thudding water rumbled in the dense, stone walls and the deep earth below. It played the gutters like a glockenspiel. It tapped on the teeth of gargoyles and pattered on the broad leaves of ivy clinging to the mortar. Mist veiled the drop down the mountain and caught like cobwebs on the knotwork hedges. The grass flushed emerald. Everything else fell into muted grey.

Sparrow curled in the window seat of his bedroom, hugging his knees, his head rested lightly on the cool glass. He gazed unseeing out into the landscape. It all seemed so small. The stewing, drab cloud obscured the soaring vastness of the sky and hazed the foaming mountain tops. The world was fading from him.

He wrapped the fine blanket closer about him, the slippery softness draping over his arms and legs and hanging loose over his narrow torso. He’d woken past noon to find a new set of neatly folded garments and a locked door. He’d eyed both with an uncomfortable surge of resentment, wrapped his sore, naked body in the blanket and nestled as close to a way batman escort out as he could get. But there was no real way out. He knew it in what was left of his blood. He could go and it wouldn’t be over. He would always be here inside himself. He’d come alive here.

He’d died here.

Died so beautifully.

Death wasn’t supposed to be beautiful.

He combed his fingers into his tangled hair and massaged his scalp. His brain felt like a lump of wet moss. He dropped his head forward and his neck smarted. He hadn’t been able to bring himself to look in the mirror, but he could feel the wound she’d left on his throat like two pins were holding his tendons together. It ached to his spine. The ache was sweet. He hated that it was sweet. His whole body was tender, muscles strained from that nightmarish hurtle through the night, bruises on his back from the hard, slate tiles of the roof. His chest kept squeezing and his eyes were hot underneath. He felt skinned, even the lap of the blanket like a cat’s tongue. He took a deep, slow breath. He filled with the smell of wood smoke and the herbal tea left with his clothes.

He closed his eyes and listened to the rain. It deadened his thoughts.

Drum. Drum. Drum.

Then another drum, out of time.

The door.

Sparrow’s heart pounded, the apathy shooting from him in a spike of panic. He sat up straight, fists clutching the blanket, and stared like a rabbit across the room.

The knock came again. His pulse tripped over it.

A gruff voice came muffled through the oak. “Sparrow? It’s Cyrus.”

Sparrow’s throat closed, his wound twinging. The memory of the burly man hauling bloody bodies washed his vision.

Cyrus murmured dully through the door. “I’m here to tend your wound, may I come in?”

Sparrow couldn’t speak. He glanced about for a hiding spot, but everywhere just put his back against a different wall. He grit his teeth and curled his toes to spring.

The scraping of a key. A harsh click. A whisper of wood. The creak of a heavy boot. Cyrus stepped weightily into the room, carrying a wooden box and a bland, unreadable expression. He closed and relocked the door behind him. Sparrow watched the little, silver key vanish into the cavernous pocket of his coat. Cyrus turned to face him, staying at the opposite side of the room, a bear crossing the path of a fox. His thick eyebrows lowered a fraction. “You’re not dressed, are you sick?”

Sparrow’s pulse thumped weakly in his veins. The feel of his blood moving spiralled last night’s events through his mind and made his stomach lurch, then flutter in excitement. He swallowed the unpleasantly pleasing sensation down and kept his gaze warily on Cyrus, the fox watching the bear for danger.

Cyrus didn’t move. His stance was easy, his broad shoulders low.

Sparrow rolled his jaw and spoke hoarsely through his tender throat. “You said the clothes she gave me were from visitors.”

Cyrus nodded.

“Visitors or victims?”

Cyrus’ face tightened infinitesimally.

Sparrow jerked his head at the folded pile of clothes on the bed. “Whose shirt was that?”

Cyrus’ peat eyes darkened another shade. “I don’t remember.”

“Is he dead?”

Cyrus’ chest rose and fell in the odd mimicry of taking a breath that did nothing to enliven his eyes or speech. “He died happy.”

Sparrow looked sullen back to the rain. “That’s worse.”

Cyrus said nothing. The clouds loomed low and more mercury shadows streaked down the glass and painted Sparrow’s bare, warm-toned skin in the colours of grim winter. He regarded the boy calmly, cataloguing the creases in his brow and at the corners of his mouth, the new well-depth to his brown eyes, the pink smudging over his fine neck. He let out something like a sigh. He walked softly to the window seat, picking up a chair on route. He dropped the chair beside Sparrow and lowered himself into it. He shrugged off his coat and let it fall with a thud to the floor out of Sparrow’s reach, so he couldn’t pickpocket the key. But the idea didn’t seem to have occurred to the lad. He kept gazing dimly out of the window, his body folding tighter and crumpling away from Cyrus. Cyrus rolled up his grey sleeves and unlatched the box. “Show me your neck.”

Sparrow could smell turned, musty earth and something sticky under it, like rotting vegetables. His pulse had slowed again, but he could still feel it too harshly under his skin. He thought vaguely about being afraid of what was in the box and what Cyrus would do to him and how he might escape. He listlessly drew his hair over his shoulder and exposed his wound, letting the blanket wilt down his upper arm. He blurred his eyes in the interlace of raindrops. He felt Cyrus lean closer; no breath fell on him, but the scent darkened.

“Good, almost gone.”

A flicker of surprise pulled Sparrow back to a measure of clarity. He turned to Cyrus with a frown. “But it felt so deep.”

Cyrus’ empty eyes roved scientifically around yalova escort the edges of the twin punctures, now two round, rhodonite marks set into a marzipan flush and a smear of plum bruising. “The bite ends with the release of a coagulant,” he said flatly.

Sparrow blinked at him.

“Something to clot the blood,” he explained. “And it aids with healing and against infection.”

Sparrow moved his shoulders subtly, testing the soreness in his neck. The ache was like the burn of labour, it wasn’t sharp, it didn’t tear like he felt it should. He frowned in further surprise. “Why?”

“Can you imagine how it would be for you if your goats died from a single milking?”

Itchy heat shot up Sparrow’s back. “I am not a goat.”

Cyrus looked unmoved. “You’re more like a goat than you are anyone in this house.”

Sparrow’s lips pursed around grinding teeth. “Because I’m kept and fed on?”

“Because you’re alive.”

Sparrow pressed his lips together. He stared at the great, grey man, at the sallowness of his skin, the dry dullness of his thicket of curls, the stone stillness of him, the graveness. He looked sharply away.

“May I touch your neck, to apply some salve?” Cyrus asked gently.

Sparrow hesitated, glancing at the limestone chips of Cyrus’ fingernails. He nodded. Cyrus pulled a pot out of the wooden box and opened it with a quiet pop. The scent of rich beeswax and tangy marigold and prickling lavender bloomed into the stale air. Sparrow kept his eyes down on the soaking wildflower beds far below and tensed at the first touch of rough fingers, his body flitting into high alert with a flare of pain in his wound. He sucked the tingling, floral scent of the balm and forced himself to relax his muscles, the pain dwindling. Cyrus’ touch was firm, grounding, the pressure sinking through Sparrow’s flesh and wrapping his soreness in soft fleece. The salve made his rough fingers silken, the waxy substance layering a protective coat onto the wound. The bite.

The bite.

Every press on it sent a small shimmer through Sparrow, half pain, half… something else. His mind fogged with the heat of her body, the blaze of fire in her hair, in her brilliant eyes, the crush of flesh, the beating of wings, the rush of a howling gale, the piercing ecstasy of her teeth breaking his skin and her lips and tongue sweeping flame over his nerves. A thought wormed its way through the fray of images. His gaze stole back to Cyrus. “I don’t think I ever told you I was a goatherd.”

“No.”

“So…” His stomach fluttered with a hope that made him feel foolish. “So she’s talked about me?”

Cyrus’ fingers paused, then began to circle again. “Yes.”

“What does she say?”

The thick fingers curled away, leaving his throat soothed and supple and shining. “That isn’t my right to repeat.”

Sparrow’s voice dropped to the volume of a mouse’s footsteps. “Does she laugh at me?”

Cyrus raised his eyes from where he was busying himself with the box. “Why would you ask that?”

A crackling bitterness rose in his muted voice. “The stupid peasant boy who thought he was her lover and that everything was so easy and wonderful and never even realised, even with all the obvious…” His throat corked. He glared at his knees. His eyes swam scalding. He blinked urgently.

Even with the dullness of Cyrus’ eyes, he could feel his gaze on him, unsettlingly soft, almost sympathetic. “She doesn’t laugh at you.” He spoke like velvet and sandpaper rubbing together. “She refers to you as her Little Adonis.”

“What’s that?”

“Adonis was a young man who was so beautiful and sweet that the goddess of love herself fell for him. Deeply. She raised him. She protected him fiercely. She had all the world sing his worthiness. He was her favourite.”

The words fell like blossom over Sparrow’s fragile heart. The pricking in his eyes intensified, became unbearable. His chest swelled with water. He blinked again and the room misted into a wash of blue. The tears that had swilled silently in the depths of his body for hours suddenly fountained to the surface. He let out a feeble, choking noise and hastily buried his face in his forearms as the first seismic shudders hit him. And hit him again. Harder. His body rocked with tears. He felt them brewing in his gut and shoving past his organs to flow searing from his eyes. The blanket drenched against his face, the fibres gumming to his cheeks. Convulsions went through his throat and under his wound. He sobbed and shook, his gulps and gasps buffeting the rumble of rain. The fear and shame and grief poured out of him and drowned him in a whirlpool, spiralling down, down, down.

Cyrus tutted as if at a fussing pony. He planted his huge paw between Sparrow’s trembling shoulder blades and rubbed in rhythmic circles. The blanket slipped and let him touch the warm, bare skin. Sparrow felt the heavy touch absorb the waves pulsing up his body, a magnet pulling the scratching iron filings out of his system and leaving him raw, but balmed. ordu escort Cyrus had no heat, no force, no sudden moves. It was like leaning against an ancient oak. Raining onto an ancient oak. Sparrow felt like rain, a cloud ripping open and gushing into soft, sodden earth. He lost definition between himself and the deluge outside. He tumbled into it, let it break him apart and bury him in the ground. She was so wonderful, she was so good, he was so lost and she had found him, and now…

And now…

What now?

His mouth went dry as he hauled a breath in through the fine wool. He focused on the millstone kneading of Cyrus’ hand and gradually felt himself reform around the spreading pressure. Almost reform; he wasn’t exactly solid, but he had some shape again. The tears heaved out of him until he was ragged and void. The drumming rain echoed in his ears.

Drum. Drum. Drum.

“Get dressed.”

Cyrus’ hand moved away and the sound of the medical box clacking shut woke Sparrow back to the room. He slowly raised his head, eyes stinging in the low light of the hearth. He glowered at Cyrus’ mop of curls. “I won’t wear those clothes.”

“You need to get out of this room,” Cyrus said pragmatically, standing and shaking out his coat from its heap on the floor. “I’m going to take you to the hothouses. But our mistress will be very angry if I let you walk naked in the rain and make you ill.”

Mistress. Her voice whispered it under his skin. Venom. He drew his shoulders up defensively. “I won’t wear them.”

“Do you want to go the hothouses?” There was a note of irritation, the kind used with difficult children.

Sparrow coloured and nodded. “But I won’t wear them.”

Cyrus huffed, encasing himself in his dusty, leather coat. “Fine. I’ll bring you something of mine.”

“Thank you.”

He nodded. His glance caught on Sparrow, like cotton on thorns. He regarded him another moment. Sparrow met his lightless gaze levelly. He nodded again, picked up the medicine box, and strode from the room.

*

The echo of tears left Sparrow uncannily calm, hollowed out and filled with the cool, spring rain. It tap-danced on the hothouse deafeningly, shielding him with rhythmic sound, drowning out the world. Water streamed over the glass, domed roof, veiling the grey sky, enclosing Sparrow in a delicate chrysalis. Its lacework of shadows was lost in the dense cauldron of leaves. Sparrow could have been deep in a far off jungle, somewhere where none of this even existed.

He knelt in one of the lush beds, his small body draped in one of Cyrus’ immense, dark grey shirts. The britches, into which a good three Sparrows could have fit, were tied at his waist with a length of garden twine, all of Cyrus’ belts similarly too big. The clothes were a little shabby, but they smelled clean, the earthy sort of clean that reminded Sparrow of the scent of laundry beaten against river rocks. He was barefoot, Cyrus having carried him across the garden when he had refused to wear even the boots. He leaned forward into the spray of vibrant, rich, purple flowers around him and took a long draught of their fresh, candied scent, covering the lingering scent of the healing balm on his throat and the taste of charred petals that pressed his tongue every time he thought of her.

“My name is Vestalia.”

“I’ve never heard that name before.”

Last night kept trying to haunt him, but every time it did, another memory intervened. He thought of their meeting, of how she’d melted into the firelight and it had caressed her eerie paleness, licking the cut of her jaw, playing on her fingertips, kissing the end of her proud nose. He crawled deeper into the flower bed, soil sinking under his hands and knees. Squat blooms gathered around his fingers, the colour of raw meat. He remembered her red tongue enveloping slices of beef, the way her opulent mouth moved luxuriously around the bite, the points of her teeth gleaming in the candlelight.

“Do you ever feel longing, Sparrow?”

He breathed deep through his mouth, coating his tingling tongue in a layer of exotic juices in the air. And then his tongue was snaking through her flesh, tasting her, starving for her. He was lapping and sucking and swallowing. His throat smarted and he realised his mouth was moving in the present. He bit his lip.

“Do you feel warmer now?”

He closed his eyes and let the misty air of the hothouse salve his neck and smooth his shoulders. The rain lashed the glass. And he was safe from it. Utterly protected. He was precious. He was cared for and doted on, tutored and treated and teased. There was so much softness here. The softness of the bed, the couches, the cushions, the blanketing warmth of the hearths and the gushing green of the flora and the way she held him and smothered him and giggled prettily in his ear. Nothing here was cold. Nothing here was lonely. Nothing here was tough. Nothing here was angry or brutish or sharp.

Except…

“Are you afraid of me?”

“I don’t know.”

He took a steadying breath and fixed his eyes on a crumb of earth on an emerald leaf and forced himself to recall last night. What he could of it. The crazed howling of the wind, the rending terror and grief. The piercing. The pain. The flying. The flames. The moon and the stars and being covered in heat and scent and dream.

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

It took almost an hour to cross the softly swaying grass and into the eaves of the forest once more. These trees lacked the corruption rampant around Pinwood, and instead bore an almost equally oppressive weight of years. Twisted and gnarled branches stretched high overhead, and the thick canopy, untouched by the hand of man for many a year, cast a perpetual twilight on the soft, spongy ground beneath. Thick, corded roots wound their way here and there, snaking from trunks so thick it would take two or three grown men to circle them with their arms, only to plunge into the earth. The brisk wind which had picked up earlier showed no signs of slowing, and whispered amongst the foliage with a cooling caress and a soft rustling.

The walk was rather pleasant, and would have been enjoyable if not for the circumstances. The forest was deceptively peaceful, and even as they approached the sinister spire which they knew lay before them, birds still fluttered overhead, and Alan could see the occasional flash of a deer darting away through the trees.

In time, they finally did arrive at the tower, where its obsidian facade rose abruptly from amongst ancient trees that hardly looked to have been disturbed in decades. Alan remembered the entire place laying in ruins, with blackened stumps and stripped logs strewn about like many toothpicks. None of that remained, and the trees appeared to have never been touched. It was undoubtedly some manner of sorcery which repaired both forest and structure.

The ground immediately about the base of the Startower was more gravel than earth, though this occurred only in a narrow band, a few feet across at most. There was no break in the trees, they came right up to the outer reach of that narrow band, and above, the branches came right up to press against the tower’s obsidian shod walls, maintaining that shield from the morning’s brightness all the way to the tower proper.

Great double doors of polished bronze stood fast before the four adventurers, surrounded by a frame of carved white stone that stood out starkly from the surrounding obsidian. The frame was carved to resemble great tentacles reaching up from the earth, only to wrap about an odd black orb where the keystone should be. However, rather than individual blocks of masonry, the whole of the door frame seemed carved of a single continuous stone. The doors themselves were forged with a bas-relief depicting many men and women writhing together, beneath an elevated, empty throne.

Alan didn’t recognize any of the imagery, it was all new to him. He had only been to the tower a few times when it originally stood, and he was fairly certain that he would remember anything that distinct. The glittering black orb atop the door especially resembled the Nightmare Orb. It certainly did not bode well for Miena’s mental state.

As they stood there, the orb above the door began to shine, and Miena’s voice drifted down from above, projected by some unseen magic, “Well it seems as though my visitors have arrived. Alan, bringing Windhawk and Vick to visit me? You shouldn’t have.” There was a pause, before she spoke in a sterner tone, “I mean that. You shouldn’t have. I suppose I’ll have to eliminate them as well. And what’s that, a gnome? I thought you found them annoying.”

The last statement caused Alan to wince. It was completely correct, and he realized that this entire expedition, Faringalia had been making a painfully conscious effort to tone back the very chatterbox nature that made her kind grate on his nerves so. She’d done a more than admirable job of it, and he’d found her company almost pleasant as a result. Still, he couldn’t miss the hurt look which lingered on her little face after hearing that announcement.

“Faringalia is different. She’s one of us now,” He quickly addressed the door, “She’s your replacement, and has been true to our cause. I wish I could say the same of you, Miena.”

While his quick defense seemed to cheer the illusionist, it was met merely by a scoffing exhalation from that projected voice. “Please, don’t make me laugh. She’s an illusionist. She can no more replace me than a crippled beggar could replace Vick. And what cause do you speak of, Alan? Since when did the Reavers of Aethwin have a cause other than their own profit?”

Alan scowled at that. His retort was immediate, “You know damn well they have another cause. Each other. The Reavers stick together. If you injure one of us, you shall feel the wrath of all of us. And you, you’ve crossed a line. Miena, we are going to come in there and take Lizzy back. And then we’re going to end you, once and for all!” He sounded more eager than he felt.

“Oh dear, how valiant. You almost sounded like a real hero there, Alan. Have you been taking notes from the dwarf? Please. The Reavers of Aethwin, charging into battle with a dark wizard yet again. You and I both know how this story usually ends, and this time you don’t have me to counter the spells that inevitably claim you. You don’t have Garthur kırklareli escort to patch you back together.”

The mocking tone of that disembodied voice grated on Alan’s nerves, and he pointed up to the orb shimmering over the doorway. “Break that.”

“With pleasure,” Vick and Windhawk spoke together, then stepped forward. Windhawk selected a particular, blunted arrow from her quiver, while Vick lifted the Black Blade in both hands. Windhawk’s bow sang, and her arrow zipped forth. The tip impacted the orb with a sharp sound, and a narrow little crack began to spread over the orb’s surface. Vick’s blade then swung up. It was an awkward, overhanded swing, but there was quite a bit of power in it. The edge of his sword found that new crack, and with an echoing crash, cleaved deep into it.

The orb shattered and exploded outward, scattering broken shards of smoldering stone over the group. Slowly, the doors beneath it began to sag in their frames. Whatever magic had kept them bound had fled with the destruction of the orb. Alan stepped forth and dug his fingers into the edge of one of the doors, and slowly, he pried it outward. He only opened the door wide enough to allow Vick to squeeze through. One by one, they slipped through and into the wizard’s lair.

The chamber beyond, the grand foyer of the Startower, was well lit by a white glow that seemed to emit from the very stones of the ceiling above. The floor was polished granite, the walls were white marble. Hanging about the hall were five tapestries, depicting each of the original Reavers of Aethwin in some feat of daring from their past. A set of stairs spiraled up from the right, and up along the inner wall of the circular tower. In the middle, a grand statue of a woman stood some eight feet high, arms outstretched. It took a moment for Alan to realize the statue was supposed to be Miena, so idealized was that representation.

The tower itself was roughly circular, and fairly modest from the outside, despite the grandeur of its obsidian facade. On the inside, however, it was immediately clear that considerations of basic geometry were thrown out the window. That interior room had three archways leading off to wings that were not actually present from the outside, and interspersed amongst the tapestries hanging from the high, arching ceiling were windows that should rightly have been well below the only ones visible from the outside. Even if they were merely unseen, they should have been below the canopy of the woods, in the shade of the forest. Instead, they allowed sunlight to flow in unhindered, to join the luminous shine of the enchanted masonry.

Vick whistled as he turned his eyes around the interior. “Damn, I kind of feel like the palace back in Aethwin is inadequate now. Maybe I should have some workers remodel it.”

“Madame Pryce is probably already doing so,” Alan’s comment brought a scowl from the Count, then a chuckle.

“Probably,” he ruefully agreed.

Windhawk readied another arrow as she skulked forward, while Faringalia gazed up in awe at each of the tapestries. The gnome woman was staying a little far from them, when Alan hustled to herd her back near to Vick.

“Can’t risk being split up this early in the game. Stick near Vick, he’ll protect you.”

The illusionist smiled up to Alan, “Yeah, thanks. Sorry, it’s just so… different than what I was expecting. Are those tapestries true? Are they showing stuff that actually happened?”

The old thief turned his own eyes up to study each one in turn. He finally nodded. “Yeah, for the most part.” Although he was uncertain, now. Why would she have kept such images about, if she simply intended to betray them.

Windhawk circled the room with bow drawn, and squinted down each of the corridors. Her soft soled boots made little sound as she completed her circuit, which only served to highlight how quiet the place really was. Alan wasn’t certain what he expected, some sort of ambush, a chamber of horrors, rows of slaves being readied for some dark mine. He strained to hear anything, any hint of noise within the still, silent air. It was all for naught, all he heard was the faint patter of the elf’s footsteps and the group’s breathing.

With a final step, the ranger leaned in toward the rest of the group. “It seems clear. Quiet as a tomb.”

“That’s what’s getting to me. At the very least, we know one person should be here.” Either Lizzy or Miena, Alan would settle for getting his hands on either, for various reasons. He glanced toward the stairs, musing to himself. “Let’s get to the top of this place. I have a hunch that Miena will be up top.”

“A hunch, huh?” Vick’s voice rumbled forth with some amusement. “So we’re not doing a room by room search for your precious beloved, just following your random guess?”

Alan scowled at the warrior, though he did have a point. Another glance was given to those stairs, before he nodded. “Yeah. Miena wants me, for whatever afyon escort reason. Whether to keep me or kill me, it doesn’t matter. She’ll be in the most obvious place imaginable. Which in the case of a tower would be the very top.”

Vick shrugged, “Alright Tinsley. This is your mission.” Shouldering his massive blade, the warrior strode over toward Alan, with Faringalia tagging behind, almost like some frightened child.

Alan took the lead this time, and moved slowly. He kept his eyes sweeping over his surroundings, seeking any signs of traps or other surprises. There was nothing to be caught, however, and soon he began leading them up that winding stairway.

They hadn’t got more than a few feet, however, before a piercing scream sounded from one of the corridors below. It was quickly followed by another, and then a feminine voice pleading for help. Although it was no one Alan recognized, she sounded as if she were in a great deal of pain.

Vick was already starting back down the stairs when Alan called down to him, “It’s not her.”

The warrior, and the gnome who now followed on his heels at every movement, both looked up to the rogue incredulously. “So we’re just supposed to abandon some woman because we don’t know who she is?” Vick’s voice boomed upward, as if it were some great offense.

Alan was fairly certain that if it had been a man’s screams, Vick wouldn’t have cared less.

There was a moment’s more hesitation, then Alan cursed. He began to head back down the stairs, with Windhawk at his side. As Vick and Faringalia reached the bottom, however, another cry sounded. This one drifted down from above, and Alan certainly knew this voice.

“Lizzy!” He spun about, then managed to ascend a few steps, before he realized Vick wasn’t following him. He looked over his shoulder, then sighed. Alan waved one hand to the warrior, “Go after the other woman, then come back up after you’ve ended whatever is hurting her.”

Vick chuckled softly, “Sure thing. Good luck, Tinsley.”

The old rogue nodded, even as he cursed himself for what he was doing. Splitting the party had already resulted in one death, but there was little he could do in this instance. He was just grateful when Windhawk fell into step beside him. Faringalia was with Vick, and if everyone was careful, they should be able to handle whatever they came across.

As he ascended to the second floor landing, however, Alan wasn’t so certain of that. Before him, another round room stretched out, another staircase gracefully curved upward to the next floor, opposite of where his own head peeked up past the safety railing along the edge of the landing. This room was more dimly lit than the last. No grand windows offered lighting, only a single, central orb similar to the one they had shattered above the front door offered any sort of illumination. A flickering, purple radiance shone down from where thick ropes supported the large, dark sphere overhead.

Beside the odd lighting arrangement, the chamber appeared to be some sort of mad laboratory. Rows of sturdy wooden shelves and cabinets circled the room, with the shelves containing a mix of books, jars, and vials of strange materials. Across the center of the room were spread several tables, each one a sturdy, polished stone slab over thick, squat wooden legs. Leather restraints were bolted into the sides of each of the slabs, allowing whoever might be upon the table to be easily secured.

Amongst those tables stalked a pair of monstrosities. Unsettling to behold, each one was vaguely humanoid, with bone white skin and no hair. They stood close to nine feet tall, but were gaunt, looking stretched out, with long legs, spindly arms, and an elongated torso. Empty black eyes were fixed upon the work each of the two creatures was performing, with a look of great concentration. Loose black fabric hung in wispy sheets from about their torsos, leaving their pale arms free. Those arms ended in long fingered hands, which moved quickly in their horrendous work.

Lizzy was there, or rather, it appeared there were several Elizabeths. Upon each table was secured a copy of Alan’s wife. Each of them was nude, bound spread eagle. But not all of them were whole. The horrid creatures moving between the tables performed unspeakable surgeries upon the carious copies of Elizabeth, as her various forms shrieked or sobbed.

Scalpels cut and needles stitched. Tubes snaked from various containers and plunged into bodies, while other forms were twisted by magic or past modifications into oddly artistic abominations. Alan knew that not all of them could be his real wife. He hoped none of them were, but the thought that any one of those cruelly tormented lookalikes might be the real thing was a knife to his heart. He could do little but stumble forward over the last step, and let forth a gurgled, terrified cry.

An arrow whistled past his shoulder, and struck one of the tall, gaunt figures in the amasya escort chest. The impact forced it to stagger back from the blow. For a moment, the second one did nothing, and then another arrow joined the first, planting itself deeply within that injured being’s flesh. Only then did the second creature turn, and swivel its deep, inky eyes toward the two.

“Alan! What are you doing?! Get going!” Windhawk near shouted, and Alan tore his eyes from the horror show before him.

He looked back to the elf, and managed to stammer out, “Don’t you see what’s in there?!”

“Yeah, and I have no idea what they are, but there’s only two of them.” She near growled the words as she strung another arrow, and let it loose. It zipped across the room toward that one creature she had been hammering.

Alan reluctantly turned back toward the room, only to find the scene changed. No more did images of his wife writhe and wail from every table. They were all empty. Only the two gaunt, tall, long limbed monstrosities remained. One was much nearer than he recalled, while the other was still trying to recover from taking those shots from Windhawk’s bow. Another arrow streaked forth, but this one missed, skittering back and shattering against the far wall of the chamber.

With a curse, the thief drew his own blade, and ran forth. He had no idea what these creatures were, he’d never seen anything of their sort before, but if Windhawk’s arrows could injure them, so could his blade. He dashed forward toward the first, but as its long, gangly arms raised to reach toward him, he ducked and skidded across the polished floor of the chamber. His progress took him under a nearby table, then out the other side. He rose to his feet and charged toward the creature Windhawk had been systematically turning into a pincushion. The sweep of the long arms of the figure he’d bypassed could be felt across the nape of his neck, but it didn’t manage to grab onto him. His blood ran cold at the close call, and he inwardly damned their reach.

Sweeping his blade upward, Alan held the leather wrapped grip in both hands. He put his whole weight into the slash, drawing the relatively short, sharp blade through the horror’s abdomen. The tall creature began to teeter over, but those long arms, tipped with wriggling, twig-like fingers, began to descend on Alan.

Another arrow saved the thief’s life, as it plugged into the thing’s chest with the others. Alan yanked his blade out sideways, tearing the strange, inhuman being’s flesh asunder. Thick, black-red blood hissed out of the wound, and it toppled over without so much as a cry.

Indeed, neither of the beings had made a sound during the entire confrontation. It was eerie, unnatural, like fighting mute marionettes. The remaining creature swiveled at the waist to face him, then advanced upon him with a disjointed, uneven gait. At least, if it was pursuing him, Windhawk would have free reign with her bow. In that short time, it had closed a huge amount of distance. With long limbs and terrifying speed, the thing would be hard to avoid. As it closed in, however, Alan could see more of it. Those long fingers ended in scalpel like talons, while the thing’s face was utterly inhuman. Large, empty black eyes were the sole feature that stood out. There was nothing in the way of ears, nor a nose, just little holes where nostrils should be. Its mouth was a lipless slit, its features undefined.

As the remaining creature snapped one arm out, Alan recoiled. He raised his blade, but it was too late. Those fingers wrapped about his throat, and drew him bodily up from the ground. His air was cut off by its grip, and it showed no sign of strain as it raised him as easily as if he were a pillow. Its flesh felt clammy, moist and cool against his own skin, and he grabbed at its wrist with one hand.

An arrow impacted the being’s side, and though it stumbled a half step, it was unrelenting in its grip on Alan’s neck. The next arrow to strike was equally futile, though thick blood seeped from the wounds. With no leverage at his height, Alan could think to do only one thing. He brought his blade upward in an awkward slash, toward the arm that held him.

The first blow hacked deeply into its strange flesh, and the subsequent jostling put more pressure on his bruised throat. He gritted his teeth as he raised that sword for another blow. The second severed the arm just below the elbow, and he went tumbling down from the silent creature, landing hard upon one of the stone topped tables. For a moment after it was severed, that hand retained its strength and its grip on Alan’s neck, before it finally fell away.

Two more arrows sprouted from the thing’s torso, and the thing lurched forward, as if it were about to fall on Alan. The rogue had little time to get out of its way, so after taking a quick, gasping breath, he rolled to one side immediately, and off the edge of the table. The creature’s knees buckled, and it finally toppled down onto that tabletop.

The wooden legs creaked under the combined weight of the stone slab and the unnatural creature upon it. Alan sprung to his feet, and though he didn’t have the best footing, he brought his blade down as quickly as he could, aiming for the thing’s neck. A single blow was all it took, and the battle was over. Both of the otherworldly creatures lay still.

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

Isola di Incantesimo.

1976.

A stiff breeze, together with the rising tide, pulled the life raft onto the beach, where it slumped, lazily, into the sand. The man inside was asleep, or perhaps, unconscious, but the sudden cessation of the water’s movement woke him with a jolt, and he stumbled to his feet.

“Where am I?” he asked out loud, but of course, there was no one there to answer him. Still, the feeling of solid ground under his feet was a great comfort, and he had to admit that whatever type of island this was, his luck had improved. The man walked along the beach, hoping to find some form of habitation, someone who could help him.

The beach was warm and the sky was clear, but he had had enough sun over the past few days already, and took no joy in the fair weather, and he thought of moving inland, under the shade of a tropical-looking forest, but decided against it. He had no interest in stumbling through untended roots and probably getting poisoned. So he continued to walk up the beach.

The man had the strangest feeling as though being watched, a feeling that, even after days of loneliness, still filled him with a peculiar unease. He looked around, to see if anyone was there, but saw nothing. Or… perhaps…

What he had taken for a rock sticking out of the water suddenly seemed to blink at him. For a moment, he caught a glimpse of a kind of face, with black, deep-set eyes over a pair of flared nostrils and a fanged mouth. Then, suddenly, the face – or whatever it was – darted back below the water’s surface.

“Mind’s playing tricks on me,” muttered the man, but he wasn’t sure he believed it. What kind of island was this?

He continued to walk. Finally, he caught a definite sound, and it seemed to be getting louder. Hoofbeats. He turned in the direction of the sound, and could have fallen to his knees in gratitude at the sight of a woman on horseback, riding along the beach. The island was inhabited after all!

The woman on horseback slowed as she approached him. “Hello!” she called out to him.

“Hello, there,” he croaked, through a parched throat. “Do you live on this island?”

She nodded. “You look like you’ve been through the ringer!” she laughed.

He nodded. “My ship sank. I came here on a life raft.” He pointed up the beach, where his raft rested in the sand.

“Oh, you poor devil!” said the woman. “Let me bring you back to our house! You can have a shave and a decent meal.”

As he walked alongside her horse, the man couldn’t help but snatch a few looks at this woman. She was beautiful, tall and slender, with curled auburn hair that stretched down past her shoulders. She was wearing a light sundress, white with orange polka dots, and large sunglasses that covered much of her face, but what he could see was soft, delicate, and the fabric of the dress did little to conceal her high, well-formed breasts or her long, smooth legs. Something about the way she rode and spoke she suggested she had been born into money and never had to work a day in her life. If he had to guess her age, he would say probably her late 20s, only a few years younger than himself, though he was sure the sun had aged him prematurely.

“My name is Annibale,” the shipwrecked man said. “Annibale Brunetti.”

The woman smiled. “I am Giacomina Brand. I live here on Isola di Incantesimo with my husband.”

“Is that the name of this place?”

She nodded. “There is our house,” she said, pointing.

A rather sizable estate had come into view that put Annibale in mind of an old colonial plantation house, though there was no one working in the fields, or indeed, any kind of visible crop at present. Indeed, although it had clearly once been a place of great luxury, it seemed oddly run-down, unmaintained.

Giacomina dismounted her horse and hung the saddle on a post, before letting the horse wander off, of its own accord, to the stables. She lead Annibale inside, where he found a man of about 45 sitting in a wicker chair, smoking a pipe and examining what appeared to be a map of the island. The man looked up as they entered, and for a moment, Annibale thought he saw an expression of revulsion on the man’s face, but it quickly subsided into a pleasant smile.

“Have we a guest, my dear?” he asked Giacomina. He had an English accent, clipped and aristocratic.

“This is Annibale Brunetti,” she said. “He is a castaway.”

“How picturesque!” üsküdar escort said the man. He stood up and grasped Annibale by the hand in a tight, painful handshake. “Pleasure to meet you, Annibale, old boy! My name is Aston Brand. I see you’ve already met my lovely wife.” He said the word ‘lovely’ almost sarcastically, and Annibale could see an annoyance on Giacomina’s face, though he could not identify for what.

“Well,” continued the Englishman, “I suppose you’ll want to get cleaned up, what? Giacomina, will you show him to the facilities? We must have a set of spare clothes for the chap.”

Giacomina smiled, but there was a desperate edge to it that Annibale caught as she lead him away.

“Is this a vacation home?” he asked her.

“Not anymore,” she said. “We’ve been here for seven years now. My husband is working on something.”

Annibale wanted to ask what, but he remembered his manners. She would tell him if she wanted to, and it was none of his business anyway.

After a long bath and shave, he emerged from the bathroom to find a set of clean, if somewhat patched and worn, work clothes laid out for him, and with them on, he felt a new man as he stepped back into Mr. Brand’s lounge.

“Why, Signor Brunetti, you look positively handsome!” smiled Giacomina.

“Well, I’ve good news for you, old boy,” said her husband. “The next supply ship should be coming in in the next few days. Good old bloke, Cpt. Ruffin. A Frenchman. I’m sure he won’t mind giving you a lift back to the mainland.”

“That would be wonderful,” said Annibale.

“Not that we don’t enjoy having you here,” said Giacomina, giving his arm a squeeze. He caught something in her eyes. He wasn’t sure what.

“Is it only the two of you on this island?” he asked. “Aside from myself, of course.”

“I’m afraid so,” said Mr. Brand. “We had some servants here with us, before, but something scared them off.”

“Do you mind if I ask what?”

“Who knows?” replied Mr. Brand. “Some primitive superstition.” But there was something oddly evasive in his tone.

“And there is no one else here on the island? I thought I saw… something on the beach,” Annibale said.

For a moment, both of the Brands froze. Giacomina was the first to speak.

“What did you see?”

“I’m not sure. Just… for a moment I thought I saw a kind of face in the water.”

“A seal, perhaps,” said Giacomina, oddly insistent. “We get seals here occasionally.”

Perhaps Annibale had been expecting a drawn-out, uncomfortable dinner with these strange, secretive people, but even that ritual of familiarity was too much for them. Giacomina had prepared a meal, but Aston ate alone, behind a locked door, in what he called his study, and Giacomina ate in her room, leaving a plate for Annibale to eat in the lounge.

As Aston left the lounge, he had gathered up the maps and paperwork he had been examining before, and Annibale happened to catch a brief glimpse of the map. It appeared to have been done by hand, probably Aston’s own, on good cartographer’s paper. Annibale had seen sea charts drawn up on the same stuff. In addition to the old house they currently occupied, a number of other landmarks were noted, most of them in the surrounding water. Annibale caught glimpses of points marked “main ruin site” and “spawning lair”, and a photograph, hurriedly slid into a manila envelope, of what was unmistakably a clawed, webbed hand.

Annibale ate in silence, wondering what all the secrecy could mean. What were these aquatic creatures, and why would his hosts be so secretive about them?

He was happy enough to leave it be, though he couldn’t help but wonder. Having finished his meal, Annibale gratefully returned to the room that had been set aside for him. The room far exceeded his lodgings on the ship, to say nothing of the miserable rowboat. His bed was soft enough, comfortable, and a large window overlooked the shore, where the waves crashed endlessly onto the sand.

He had undressed and was turning out the light when the door opened. It was Giacomina, in a white silk nightdress.

“What can I do for you, signora?” he asked cautiously.

Mrs. Brand simply smiled at him, and unfastened one of the shoulder straps of her nightdress, exposing a breast to him.

Annibale cocked an eyebrow. “Won’t your husband mind?”

She laughed mirthlessly. “My gaziemir escort husband neither loves me nor wants me. He hasn’t even touched me in years. Please, Signor Brunetti. I need the touch of a man.”

She climbed onto the bed up to her feet, her hands resting on his thighs, only the cotton of his underwear hiding his rapidly-swelling cock from her view.

Annibale couldn’t resist this mysterious, lonely beauty. She was the first woman he had seen in months, and the loveliest he had seen in years. He nodded, and slowly reached a hand down, hooking a thumb in his underwear and pulling it down, exposing his manhood to her.

Giacomina grinned up at him, eyes twitching between his own gaze and his dick. It was long and wide and hard, and she was evidently pleased by what she saw. She moved her mouth over him, sliding her full lips up and down his length.

Annibale gasped out loud in pleasure. His hand snaked down, taking her by the back of the head and running his fingers through her long hair, and bucking his hips against her hungry mouth.

“You do that very well, signora,” he whispered to her. She came up for air, grinning at him mischievously.

“So nice to be appreciated,” she said, before sliding him back into her mouth.

He tried to catch her eyes as she worked, but couldn’t. She was steadfastly refusing to make eye contact. After a few minutes, she withdrew his penis from her mouth once again. She began to climb up his body now, pushing herself against him. He felt her hard nipples through the silk of the nightdress, dragging up his stomach and chest, until she was sitting straddling his face, pushing her well-groomed bush into his face and hitching up the hem of her nightdress around her waist.

“It’s been a long time,” he told her. “Forgive me if I’m a little rusty.”

“It’s been a long time for me too,” she began, but her breath caught in her throat as the sailor’s tongue flicked against her clitoris and his fingers curled around the cheeks of her well-toned ass.

Giacomina rocked her hips against his face, resting her elbows against the headboard of the bed, luxuriating in the feel of his tongue steadily lapping against her clit. Annibale was out of practice, but found the basic rhythms of it all coming back to him pretty well. When his tongue tired, he hooked his middle finger down her crotch and into her dripping wet cunt, and she gasped in pleasure.

Her hands slid down the headboard, fingers running down through his hair, pushing him against her. He got the feeling she was, perhaps, overselling her enjoyment of it, but he wasn’t about to complain.

He could feel her fingers starting to jerk as her orgasm approached. Her thighs, wrapped around his head, were twitching, and her cries were getting louder. Annibale couldn’t help but smile as he flicked his tongue up and down against her sensitive nub, brushing against his probing finger, and finally she gave a guttural moan as her body shook over him.

She slid down now, so that his face was roughly level with her stomach, covered by the silk of the nightdress.

“Do you want to fuck me, Signor Brunetti?” she whispered.

“Yes, I do, signora,” was all he could say.

“There are condoms in the drawer there,” she said. She rolled off of him, onto her back next to him on the bed, and began to wriggle out of the nightie while he opened the drawer. There was a small stockpile of condoms in there. He didn’t ask why the guest bedroom was kept so well-supplied. It was none of his business. He also noticed a tube of lubricant, perhaps foreshadowing events to come.

Annibale pulled on a condom, rolling it down his length, and moving between his hostess’s spread legs, long and tanned. Her hands gripped his waist and hips, aligning him with her cunt, before he plunged, roughly into her. She gasped in pleasure at his entrance, digging her fingers into his skin, but giving no sign that she did not enjoy his aggression.

Encouraged, Annibale continued to fuck her savagely. He could hear the bed squeaking, shifting with his motions, but Giacomina didn’t seem concerned that her husband would hear, so Annibale didn’t worry.

“Fuck me,” she moaned, “fuck me, you filthy sailor!”

“Yes, signora,” he said. “You like it rough, don’t you? You need rough fucks from working men like me? You’re bored by the affections of posh bastards sancaktepe escort like your husband, aren’t you?” Giacomina didn’t answer, at least, not with words. Low moans, grunts, cries of pleasure, but it seemed to Annibale that something was being held back, like she was waiting for him to do something and he didn’t know what. Her eagerness was melting into reticence. He moved his head to her breasts, beginning to suck and lick at her nipples, while his hands moved down around the soft globes of her ass.

Giacomina cried out in pleasure again, but it seemed forced, like she was still trying to feel more pleasure than she did. He pulled his body up, then, making room for his hand to move down to her cunt, finger flicking at her clit as he drove himself into her. This seemed to help a little, and her eyes lit up at the sensation. After a few minutes of that, she came, limbs shaking and spasming around him.

“Was that good, signora?” he asked, as he withdrew his cock from her.

She smiled at him under her heavy eyelashes. “Adequate,” she said, teasingly. Her hand sank to feel his still-hard cock. “I suppose you will want to fuck me in the ass next?”

“If that’s alright,” he laughed.

She smiled, turning over. “Put on a new condom,” she said. He obeyed, then fetching the lubricant from the drawer without need for instructions. He smeared the thick liquid into her asshole, pushing it carefully up inside her, and she grunted at the sensation.

“Is that too rough?” he asked.

“I like it rough,” she purred. “I hope you’ve noticed by now.”

“Very well, signora,” he said, pulling her up into position, on her hands and knees, his thick fingers wrapped around her thighs, lubricant smearing her skin at his touch. He lined himself up with her and pushed in, slowly enough not to hurt her, but still firmly. Giacomina cried out at the sensation of him, feeling the sailor’s throbbing manhood brutally entering her. She felt his hand slap down on her asscheek as he sodomized her, hard, strong, confident. It was good, and she knew she would probably climax again, but… part of her was still unsatisfied.

She did climax again, her slippery asshole spasming wildly around Annibale’s excited cock, before he hit his own orgasm. He was about to put his arms around her, when she stumbled, abruptly, to her feet.

“You’re leaving, signora?”

“I can’t stay here,” said Giacomina, frankly. “It’s one thing to make a little noise during the night. Quite another to be found in bed together the next morning.” She pulled on her nightdress once again, hiding that lithe body behind its silk. “I will see you in the morning, Signor Brunetti,” she said.

“Will you see me tomorrow night?” asked Annibale, with what he thought was bravado.

“We’ll see,” she said. She opened the door, and was gone into the hall, leaving the sailor alone and confused.

Giacomina did not go to her own room. She turned the other way down the hall, striding instead toward her husband’s study. Inside, Aston’s charts were haphazardly strewn over a solid oak desk. She rifled through them, idly, as if trying simply to keep her hands busy, to keep some nervous energy within herself. She glanced at a map of the island, Aston’s design sketches on the diving bell, his photographs of the old volcano, the beach, the footprints… and the ruins.

The ruins didn’t photograph well through the water, but they were unmistakable to the naked eye. Where his photographs were indistinct, he had sketched out on paper their strange architecture, elongated curving columns, the batrachian gargoyles that decorated their capitals. She thrilled at the sight of the things, shivering in her nightdress despite the heat of the evening. The ruins had taken a strange hold on both her and her husband, she knew. Both had been affected in different ways, neither of them wholly rational, but both beyond their ability to resist.

Finally she made up her mind. She dropped Aston’s notes and left the study. In the front hall of her husband’s villa, Giacomina pulled off her nightgown, for the second time that night, and hung it by a shoulder strap from the hatrack. She opened the door, and naked, made her way out into the Mediterranean night.

The air was warm, only a slight breeze blowing in from the sea as walked down to the moonlit beach.

The waves were gentle as they lapped at her naked body. She had always enjoyed the feeling of salt water on her skin, even before coming to this island.

Not far from her, something broke the surface of the water. A scaled head with dark, unblinking eyes rose steadily. Needle teeth, flared gills, muscular shoulders, dorsal sail. Long, finned arms. Webbed, clawed hands.

Giacomina smiled, nervously.

The waves continued.

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 name is Kali and I’m a genetic anomaly, what you would consider to be a mutant. We don’t like to be called mutants. We find that term offensive. To us, it’s like calling a woman a bitch, addressing a black person by the term nigger or calling a gay person by the term fag. There are lots of others like me out there. Ordinary men and women whom Fate chose to become living embodiments of human genetic evolution. We’re out there and we’re in conflict with each other. And the rest of the world. That’s what sucks. We always have to look over our shoulders. There isn’t a single moment where we can feel truly safe.

I was born in 2600 B.C. in the Province of Ajmer-Merwara in the historical Ajmer Region of India. The daughter of a simple farmer. I lived with my family. My father, Abhay Abhivav and my mother, Ahladita were simple people who lived off the land which had belonged to my family for many generations. Life was good. I had many brothers and sisters. Our lives were simple but satisfactory. The family nicknamed me Uttana, meaning ‘tall one’ because I was over six feet tall, heavyset and rather dark-skinned. Until a horde of barbarians from a faraway led by a mighty warlord invaded our land and massacred my family. They killed me too. I was nineteen years old at the time. An old maid by their standards. I wasn’t to be married, according to my parents. They wanted me to become a temple priestess. I had mixed feelings about that.

The day my family perished, my whole life changed. That day I discovered there was evil in the world. In the farming country where I grew up, life was simple. Peace reigned and nobody bothered us. Then the invaders came and destroyed my entire world. And they also revealed to me something I hadn’t known about myself. I was different from the rest of humanity. A genetic mutation which took place at my conception resulted in my being more than human. I was chosen by Fate to avenge my family’s deaths and Mother Nature herself granted me the power to do so. You see, I was Immortal.

When I rose after being stricken by a savage horseman’s sword, I discovered that I had healed miraculously. My body had the ability to regenerate. Also, I was stronger than any human being could ever be. The combined physical strength of fifteen stalwart men, that’s the might which flowed through my entire body. On top of that, I could move at inhuman speeds. I could run faster than a wolf, one of the fastest and most resilient runners in the Animal Kingdom. Strength, speed, and accelerated healing. I had gone from an ordinary woman to a being with powers beyond imagination. Yet, it took my family’s deaths to bring these powers out of me. I hadn’t known about them before that day. But soon the world would know about me.

Thus began my journey. I roamed the valley in which I had spent my entire life, and found a artvin escort small group of young women who had survived the deaths of their families. They were away when the savages came and slaughtered the men and women they loved. Away because they were working in the most distant fields. The fields consecrated to the most powerful gods and goddesses of India. These women were thirty in number. Like me, they were young and filled with rage. I joined them. We took up arms, and horses, and went after the savages who had slaughtered our families. In time, we avenged the deaths of the men and women we loved.

Throughout history, there have been reports and myths of warrior women in many nations. They were called Amazons. I was the truth behind these myths. I trained the first female warriors in human history. I made them strong, and ruthless. And I taught them to defend themselves and what they cherished. Soon, we numbered in the thousands. We were the sacred protectors of the Kingdom of India. Kings and Queens called us by name when men and women from foreign nations invaded our sacred land and threatened our way of life. We were not the prototypical man-haters depicted in many stories about Amazons or the vicious barbaric hordes. I wouldn’t let the Amazon Nation stoop to this level. Not on my watch. We were the protectors of civilization. I wanted to make sure no barbarian ever slaughtered men and women from India again. In time, my exploits became legendary. The people of India worshiped me as the Goddess Kali.

And that’s the way it was for centuries. I watched countless men and women die of old age as well as the ravages of disease, famine and warfare. I had power like no man or woman had ever possessed before but I knew I wasn’t a Goddess. A Goddess would have the power to heal the body of a good man who was the cherished mate of one of her female followers. A Goddess would be able to snap her fingers and save thousands of men and women from a flesh-eating disease which the ancient world chose to forget. I was no deity. But what was I? I didn’t grow old. I didn’t sick. I was stronger than anything that lives. And I could move at speeds human beings could only dream of. I had been stabbed, burned, hung, crushed and drowned. I had been decapitated, and dismembered. Yet always my body grew new parts to replace lost or damaged ones. I healed quickly from even fatal wounds. Simply put, I could not die. So, what was I?

I didn’t know until I met the one called Shiva. When we first met, I was amazed. He was unlike anything I had ever seen before. A six-foot-five, broad-shouldered and quite frankly huge young man with dark brown skin, long black hair and pale bronze eyes. He was ruggedly handsome. He was an Indian Prince traveling throughout Asia and had come at last to aydın escort the Land of Ajmer-Merwara, the world-famous region of India whose King and Queen were under the protection of an Army of Women Warriors. When we first met, I was already five hundred years old yet he made me feel as giddy as a schoolgirl. Shiva had that effect on women. He was so beautiful. But that wasn’t it. I looked right into his eyes and knew we shared a connection.

You see, Shiva was like me. What you people call a mutant. He was already famous throughout the world because of his power. Nature made him genetically different. As a result, he had powers which even I could only dream of. Shiva had a strength which matched my own. Also, he could move at speeds exceeding mine. On top of that, he had an ability I wished I had. There isn’t a weapon made by man or by nature which has yet to overcome my regenerative powers. However, Shiva could do one better. He was invulnerable. Nothing under heaven could hurt him. I was amazed. This Indian Prince had been traveling the world, fighting against tyranny and the forces of evil. Along the way, he gained a reputation as being a wise man and a hero. I didn’t know what to make of him. He was a charmer who said he came in peace. He had traveled a long way to meet the Goddess Kali.

I had my reservations about him. When you have lived as long as I have, you learn to be careful. One should always beware of those who say they come in peace. Often they hide evil intent. Shiva was a powerful man. In my experience, both men and women tended to do terrible things when they acquired power. I’ve served evil Kings and evil Queens. People whose cruelty left a bad taste in my mouth. How I despised some of the despots who ruled India. Shiva claimed to be different. He told me he had no desire to rule the world. He thought it was too great a place for any one man or woman to rule. I considered that. Given enough time, I could rule the world. I just didn’t care to leave the Fatherland of India undefended.

Shiva told me of his travels. He had been to Greece, where learned men and women were living in some truly fascinating cities. He had been as far as Egypt in Africa, and seen the might of that nation. He had been everywhere, and seen men and women of varying races and cultures. He told me of wonders such as snow, something I had never seen. This filled him with awe and humility. I was riveted by his adventure tales. In five centuries, I had never left India. This man was something else. He also told me something truly strange. The world was filled with people like us. Men and women born with extraordinary abilities. I found that fascinating. Shiva told me some word of caution. Not every superhuman shared his respect for humanity. Many of these super-powered men balıkesir escort and super-powered women saw themselves as Gods and Goddesses. In Greece, he had seen hundreds of them band together and conquer the land. And they forced the locals to worship them as Gods.

The idea of any people living under tyranny seriously angered me. I had dispatched many a despot in my time. I voiced this to Shiva, telling him that we ought to travel to Greece and destroy these false gods. He laughed, saying they had powers far beyond our own. I reminded him that in my five centuries of existence, I had yet to lose a single personal combat. Hundreds of people had raised weapons against me. Women as well as men. They all lost. Simply because I cannot die. Shiva looked at me gravely and told me there were far worse things than death. He introduced me to his older brother Rudra, a tall, handsome, dark-skinned young man who roamed the land like a madman, sputtering nonsense. Rudra was an amazingly powerful young man. He could generate electricity, and use it as a weapon against his enemies. He was not someone anyone should trifle with. He had been Shiva’s protector in their travels around the world. At least until they crossed paths with some mutants in Greece, and fought a war they couldn’t win. And since then, Rudra was a madman. He was harmless, though. He went about using his powers to heal ordinary mortals. Apparently, he could do that.

My heart wrenched when I saw what he had been reduced to. Rudra had a power which could change the world. What happened to him was a truly sad event. Unfortunately, that’s life. Shiva and I spent a magical summer together, and I showed him the beauty of my little kingdom. A place where men and women lived peacefully without fear of attack from barbarians. He fell in love with the place, and with me. I loved Shiva with all my heart. I had never loved a man like that before or since. Ours was a passionate relationship. We were married before the King and Queen themselves. For the first, and indeed the last time, I was a bride. When Shiva asked me to return to his land with him, I had misgivings. He assured me I would become his Queen and the co-ruler of the land he would one day inherit. I wasn’t worried about that. I worried about my people. The King and Queen assured me they would be fine. My warriors were well-trained, and feared no one. My kingdom would be safe.

Thus, I left with my beloved husband. We would have many adventures together. The kingdom we ruled was prosperous. And we had many, many magnificent sons and daughters born with extraordinary abilities. In time, they became legendary rulers of India and were worshiped as deities. In spite of Shiva and I’s best efforts to dissuade them from doing so. But that’s a story for another time. Many people make me out to be a ruthless, bloodthirsty monster and him to be the voice of reason trying to placate a madwoman. You can see for yourself that this isn’t the case. History and mythmaking have a way of distorting one’s perception of people and events. I’m just an ordinary woman with extraordinary powers who sought happiness, love, fulfillment and meaning. Just like anybody else.

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

Chapter 46

By T Hodge

Edited by Steve

Tim, who had just gotten up, was sitting in his living room. He felt much better this morning. Tabitha walked through the doorway with the news that King Elbert and her father would join in his adventure.

Tabitha said, “Tim, father agreed to all, but Mr. Crook must be executed before the people and the Queen.”

“I agree with your father, but please add Pirate Pete to the execution. His mental condition is too bad; he will kill many people if he is left alive.”

“I will forward your request and add my push to it.”

“When will they be executed?”

“Tomorrow morning.”

“Do you want the women there?”

“It is for them to make the decision. When should we tell the men where they are headed?” Tabitha asked.

“Let them wait. Tim left the bridge with a smile.”

******

Tim was on his way to Deniece’s house to see if she would join him for dinner and a bit of entertainment. He knocked on the door, but there was no response. Tim entered and called her name, and still no response. He moved slowly through the house, hoping that everything was all right.

He checked the kid’s rooms before going to check on Deniece. He came to Deniece’s room and slowly looked into it. Deniece was seated at the dressing table. She was fixing her hair and dressed in a semi-transparent robe. In the right light, you could see that she had only a bra and panties on under it. The sash across her waists holding the robe closed hung loosely

Deniece heard a noise and began to rise. She looked in the mirror and saw Tim’s reflection. She sat back down and said, “Tim, it’s all right, come on in.”

“I wasn’t spying on you. But you hadn’t responded when I called.” Tim went nervously into her room and looked for a place to sit. “Let me sit in the living room and wait for you.”

“Don’t be foolish; you have already seen me naked. We can chat while I finish dressing. Speaking of which, why are you here?”

“I came to see if you wanted to go to dinner and perhaps something afterward.” Tim sat down at the foot of her bed.

“And where were we supposed to go for dinner?”… Your place?” She put a smile on her face. As she stared at him through the mirror, she saw that he began to blush.

“No. I thought you would like to go back to the Alion eatery. If you enjoyed it, we could go there.”

Deniece got up from the dressing table, walked to the closet, and took two different dresses. She was holding them on either side of her. She lifted each, “the blue one or the red one?” She said, “Which one would be better?”

“I liked you in the red swimsuits, so it’s red.”

“Red it will be.” She placed the blue one back. She lowered the robe from her shoulders and allowed it to fall to the floor. Then she bent over, picked it up, threw it to Tim, and slid the red dress over her head. She allowed it to fall over her body and wiggled her ass to let the dress settle into place.

Tim moved the robe from over his head and saw her wiggling her ass, “That’s a clever way to get a dress in place.”

Deniece smiled and turned, wiggling her ass more. She looked over her shoulder and asked, “Do you zonguldak escort see any more wrinkles?” She was all smiles.

“No, it looks fantastic from here.”

“This is going to be about as much as you’re going to see right now.”

Tim had to stop and reflect on the final line, and he let it go. “Do you want to go to the eatery?”

“Yes, that sounds great.” She reached out to Tim and placed her arm around his.

They exited her place, walked to the eatery, and ordered. They ate and enjoyed their time together. After a while, Tim asked, “Where would you like to go?”

“Tim, where I was going, before you invited me to dinner, it was to the beach. Would you mind if we went?”

“No, if that’s the place you were going. That’s where we will go.” They left the eatery and headed to the beach.

The beach was all but empty. Tim started to make his way into the dressing room. Deniece took his arm and proceeded towards the entrance to the adult area, and Tim followed. The bot at the entrance gave them their towels and asked about drinks.

There were only three others there. Deniece led Tim to a place some distance from the others. She laid the towel out and removed her clothing, and sat down.

Tim is a bit stunned at the difference in Deniece this time. Tim took off his clothes and sat down beside her. “You’re not the same person as last time?”

Deniece sat next to Tim with her chin on her knees. “No, since the last time I have given you two baths. And we have talked a lot, and I feel more relaxed with you around.”

“I am pleased that you feel that way. You seem more self-assured.” Tim sat there and looked into her eyes. And saw a flicker of life somewhere deep down.

“Thanks to you, I now know that I will find a life somewhere. It may be here or someplace else. But it will be something meant for me.”

Deniece got up and headed to the water; She turned to look at Tim and said, “You can see more of my ass if you look closely, at least until I get to the water.”

Tim stood up and went after her. “That’s not fair; your ass moves too graciously; I can’t keep my eyes off it.”

She laughed and ran into the water, up to her belly button. She turned and waited for Tim. She was all smiles and chuckles, and she felt like a different person.

They played around for a while and then went back and sat down to dry. Deniece leaned back on her elbows and turned to look at Tim. “Tim, may I ask a question? If it is too personal, I’ll understand.”

“I’ll try to answer any question you may have. So, fire away.” Tim now had a serious look.

“OK, here goes. You are having sex with three females. Is that each night?”

“Boy, when you said personal, you meant it. Just remember you asked for this. But I said I would answer. Yes, I have sex with all three each night. Sometimes two or three times each.”

Deniece’s eyes got big, and her mouth dropped a little. She recovers herself. “But how do you do it?”

“The nano-bots reboot my system each time. One night the girls tried to see how many times I could come, and they didn’t last, and I was still ready to go.”

“Aren’t you exhausted after so many times?”

“No, there are times when the girls must take a long bursa escort break. Their pussies got sore.”

“What happens when their pussies got sore?”

“They used their hands or their mouths. I thought Madlyn said you used that device.”

“I did, but I don’t believe many things it said.”

“Why not?”

“Just look at your thing. It’s almost standing up by itself, and there was nothing about that on that machine.” Deniece pointed to Tim’s dick.

Tim looked down at his dick and saw it was almost eight inches long. He didn’t realize it. “I am sorry, it’s the talk and looking at a beautiful naked woman sitting next to me.”

“Now that’s more like the machine. Trying to get away from what we were talking about.”

“OK, what was the question?” Tim tried to sit cross-legged; in doing so, his dick was now sticking straight up.

“The question was, what happens when their pussies got sore?”

“They have a choice; either they can use their hands and jack-me off or their mouths and give me a blow job.”

“Do they have to swallow the cum?” She wrinkled her nose.

“They don’t have to, but they do swallow.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean? Why?”

“Why do the girls swallow your cum? Does it do anything for them?”

“In the case of Tabitha and Tammy, Yes.”

“What does it do for them?”

“It slows their aging process.”

“Come on. You don’t think I’m that gullible, do you?”

“It’s true.”

“OK, if I give you a blow job and swallow your cum, it will slow down my aging.”

“Maybe not.”

“You see, you said one thing, turned around and said something else.”

“That’s not true.”

“So, it’s a way to get me to give you a blow job, and that’s all, right.”

“No, I don’t want you to give me a blow job.”

“Why… am I not good enough?”

“Stop. This question-and-answer session is over. Get dressed. I’m taking you home.”

“Cause you couldn’t talk me into giving you a blowjob.”

“NO, because I like you, and a blow job isn’t your style.”

“Oh.” Deniece looked at Tim, and she didn’t know how to respond to this declaration. She looked downward and allowed herself to adopt a sagging posture.

She stood up and turned her back to Tim, and started dressing. Tim got dressed and proceeded to the exit, with Deniece trying to walk and put on her shoes.

They walked to Deniece’s place without saying a word, and Tim stopped at her front door and waited for her to step inside.

Deniece moved in front of Tim. She kissed him quickly and said, “I enjoyed our date.” She turned and entered her house.

Tim just stood there without saying a word. He thought, ‘she got me to talk about other females and got mad because I didn’t want her to give me a blow job. And to tell me she enjoyed our date and kissed me. This woman is nuts. And I don’t believe I said I liked her.’

Deniece entered her house and leaned back against the door. And said, “I don’t believe I kissed him, His lips were soft, but he said he liked me.” Her heart was racing, and she touched her hand and felt the moisture on her lips.

******

Tim awoke the following morning horny, and he needed somebody to fuck. The three girls were right malatya escort there next to him. He woke up Shanae and started with her. Tabitha awoke and asked, “what had gotten into you.”

Tim told her about the night before and didn’t know what to do. He was pounding on Shanae’s pussy, talking with Tabitha.

Tabitha saw how Tim behaved and how Shanae was being fucked. “Tim, if you need to pound on something. Use the three of us. It looks like you are breaking that poor pussy. Why don’t you move over to me for a while?”

She lay down and spread out her legs. Tim moved over to her and started pounding her. “Tim, you say you were fond of Deniece. Are you using my pussy the same way you would hers?”

“No, she made me mad, talked about sex, kissed me, and quickly ran inside and closed the door.”

“Well, if you aren’t thinking about her. Then why did you just start to pound my pussy that much harder? It feels great.”

“She’s a tease, and besides, she hasn’t been touched in over six months.”

“Did she say that to you? And you’re utilizing the three of us. However, you want her.”

“I need sex this morning, and the three of you are the best thing for me. At least we’re upfront about what we want.”

“If you say we’re upfront about what we want. Then why are you fucking me and not Deniece?”

“I have no idea. That woman confuses me when I’m near her.”

“Tammy, wake up! Tim must have you on all fours.”

“Did you say something?” Tammy turned around and saw Tim and Tabatha having sex.

“I said, get on all fours. Tim needs you.”

“This is how one begins a day.” Tammy rose onto her hands and knees, reached back with her right hand, and pulled her tail upwards. “You know what this means, so put it there!”

Tim moved over to her, placed his dick into a warm pussy, and started fucking.

“He’s making it feel good because he thinks you’re Deniece.” Tabitha smiled at Tammy as she said that.

“If I were Deniece, this would feel great. Just think if these two people decided they were in love. And he fucked her just like he is fucking me, and she’d have twins nine months from that day.”

Both Tabitha and Tammy grinned, knowing that Tim and Deniece would get together eventually.

******

Tim and the ladies were done. The three ladies decided to stay in bed and get some well-deserved rest. At the same time, Tim headed to the bridge.

“Sarha, would you ask Millie to get me some Java?”

“How are we doing this morning? Would you like a departmental report? Now?”

Millie brought Tim his Java and returned to the kitchen.

“We’ll wait for the reports. The two things I need are first the world report.” Tim sat in his seat and looked at Sarha.

“We will be in orbit in two hours and fifteen minutes.”

“The next is Sherald. Have we heard from her about the other women?”

“I am opening a channel now.”

“Sherald, here. How may I help you?”

“Sherald, this is Tim. How are things this morning?”

“Everything is great, and you?”

“All right, do you have an update on the women and the planet?”

“Yes, we have fifteen women that will go with the men if you let them. They also understand there will be no coming back.”

“There will be two men short; Mr. Crook and Pirate Pete will be executed tomorrow morning.”

“I don’t think that they will be missed. Do we know when they will be authorized to come down?”

“As soon as the initial building is installed. We’ll tell the women the day before, and the men don’t know that the women will be with them.”

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