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Recap: Candace Smith, 30s, was a sexy attractive TV news journalist with a slim athletic body. She had been assigned to interview Steve Fish, the wealthy bachelor CEO of Vee- Imaging. The company was a high tech government contractor which was obsessively secretive about its work. Later she started dating Steve. On each visit to the company she had to go through double security scanners- both on entry and exit. They were like the booth style ones at the airport but seemingly much more sophisticated.

Over several months Candace’s breasts grew from A cups to D cups and her ass became fleshier. She couldn’t determine the cause but was enjoying her new body and the extra air time she suspected it was bringing her. Over time she became suspicious that Steve secretly transformed her. He would never admit anything but they made a confidential deal in which it was understood she’d have DD breasts and not ask questions or complain and they’d have an intimate relationship. On a weekend trip to Florida Candace was shocked to find she was to have G cup tits for most of the weekend. On Friday evening she’d grown to DD and was Steve’s date at a private club populated by mostly older men and their trophy wives. She and Steve were younger but she felt like an escort-with generous cleavage displayed in a low cut custom fitted dress.

On Saturday she awoke with massive G cup tits. She could feel them bounce and was self-conscious all day. The couple spent the afternoon on a yacht where Candace felt compelled to sunbath in the nude with two trophy wives. The three husbands ogled the three from the bridge- about 20 feet away. Her ‘natural’ breasts were the envy of the two women whose enhanced breasts were nice but not as large or soft. She found the women’s personal stories fascinating and was turned on by some teasing and touching before they got dressed. The women told her that later their husbands would be teased by each woman’s detailed description of Candace’s breasts and she decided to tease Steve with a tale of their fondling her as research.

Without admitting any control over her breasts Steve tried to assure Candace she’d be back to DD by the end of the weekend. While she’d learned to love her pre-weekend D cup breasts she agreed that DD would not ruin her career and was a compromise she could accept.

******************

Steve delivered Candace back to her apartment on Sunday evening after their return from Florida. They kissed and agreed they’d speak on Monday to see how Candace’s breast shrinkage was doing. She confirmed that she felt her F cup bra was definitely looser than it had been earlier in the day and was optimistic that the morning would have her fitting into her E cup bra. She still hoped she’d be a 34DD but guessed that might take another day.

Candace slept fitfully. During her many periods of half sleep she thought about returning to work. In the best case scenario on Monday morning she’d have shrunk to her target of 34DD. Trying to be realistic and based on how her breasts had changed over the prior 24 hours she’d probably be a 34E.

When morning finally came Candace stripped off her nightgown and nervously looked at herself in the mirror. She still looked huge but she’d need to see how one or two different bras fit to gauge her size. With great trepidation she cradled her breasts into the E cup bra which was a full cup size smaller than what she’d worn on Sunday. She wasn’t sure if she was pleased or disappointed to find that the bra fit perfectly. She turned back and forth in front of the mirror to further assess her overall body.

Based on how well the E cup bra fit Candace decided not to try on the DD. She was sure it wouldn’t fit properly and that would only depress her. She was still bigger than she wanted to be. Equally important she felt she was bustier than the network would tolerate. As a TV journalist she had to be attractive and sexy to a point but looking like a call girl wouldn’t fly for the family friendly news.

Fortunately she had no on camera time scheduled for Monday. She’d wear a somewhat loose top over a modest skirt and hope that her expanded chest wasn’t noticeable. By Tuesday she hoped to have dropped another cup size. That was an assumption but she needed to remain optimistic.

She was also working on the assumption that her slim body could carry DD breasts without upsetting the network execs. This was going to be a close call; she’d have to be careful in her clothing selections. She had to walk the fine line between being sexually attractive and looking too slutty. The tops would need some ornamentation or draping fabric overlays so that it wouldn’t appear that she was flaunting her tits. Any hint of cleavage would be the death knell to her career.

Part of her concern reflected that she’d only been a 34DD for one evening in Florida where she’d relaxed in the knowledge that no one knew her. Steve had surprised her by increasing her from a D to a DD and announced that she’d be getting even bigger overnight. denizli escort On that occasion Steve had provided her with a sexy bra and low cut dress. The entire evening had been foreplay and she’d relished feeling sexy.

Dressing for work with tits like she’d had that evening was going to be a whole new experience. She’d barely gotten used to how to dress when her breast size had been 34D. She’d continued to wear form fitting dresses but had tried to find styles that had some distracting trim or other features at the bust line. Anything that was form fitting and smooth -in the nature of a T-shirt was out as her chest size became too obvious too inviting to the lustful eye.

Regardless of her clothing choice with a 34DD bust more guys would be staring at her. Since she’d always been attractive she was used to receiving a lot of attention but the intensity had grown noticeably with her breast size over the past few months. She could only assume another cup size would have a similar effect. Finding clothes that would de-emphasize her chest was going to be tough.

Part of her angst was simple ego and a desire not to be embarrassed. She’d gone from being small breasted to a D cup gradually over a few months. At widely different points in time virtually everyone she knew concluded she’d gotten implants. She’d seen the look in their eyes as he or she drew that conclusion and then kept steeling glances at her chest. Some were subtle and some more piggish. One or two co-workers who’d reached the surgical enhancement conclusion early on- say when she’d expanded to a small C cup- seemed baffled by her later expansion but far too discrete to say anything.

Each of those past instances of someone looking at her differently had been embarrassing but she’d learned to live with it. Going through the same moments all over again would be even more difficult.

Her current dilemma was to disguise her E cup tits and interact with as few people as possible on Monday. She could hope that only a few would later think her DDs were larger than the breasts she’d had before the weekend. She couldn’t imagine the embarrassment of anyone actually sensing that she’d not been satisfied by her enhancement from an A cup to a D cup and that she’d had another surgery to graduate to E cups. If she could get past Monday and if her breasts dropped another size she could only hope that DDs would pass as Ds.

She took out the two dresses Steve’s shopper has purchased for her in Florida. If her breasts would shrink to DD the dresses would be okay if she added a scarf or other distracting piece. They’d get her through the first couple of days but she’d need other dresses. Candace searched for labels in the Florida dresses and found the name of a shop that sounded like a custom dress maker. That wasn’t going to be a viable option since the shop was over a thousand miles away and undoubtedly too expensive for her. On the other hand she wouldn’t be able to wear dresses that were mass marketed without serious alterations. Custom made clothes might not be too much more expensive than the cost of rack dresses plus alterations.

She then had a second thought that made her smile; if Steve wanted her to have a bimbo’s body he’d have to pay for whatever clothes she needed. She was confidant he’d be happy to do that but she’d need to ask. The first step would be to try on the Florida dresses to confirm that they’d fit with a smaller chest. She did that and was satisfied. Except in the bust the dresses fit perfectly. She knew of one custom shop in New York and checked out its website. She followed up with a phone call to discuss how quickly items could be ready and some pricing.

She then called Steve and explained her situation. She expressed her concern about still being bigger than her target size but said she could give the process another day. She then outlined her longer term problem. ‘Off the rack’ clothes wouldn’t fit the top heavy body he wanted her to have. She told him she was willing to give the DD size a week trial but would need more work suitable outfits that were tailored for her body. She gave him a cost estimate for 3 dresses from the New York store and asked if he’d pay for them. He said that he would be happy to pay for her test clothes but would expect to have the opportunity to undress her from these garments at least a couple of times during the test period. He also reminded her of the sexier style bras he’d had the shopper buy and noted that those were the only ones he wanted to see when they were together. She agreed but said she didn’t know her work schedule yet.

Later that day Candace visited the dress salon and ordered two dresses and two skirt and blouse combinations. She deferred the fitting until Tuesday afternoon without explaining that she was expecting to be a whole bra size smaller by then.

Somehow Candace got through Monday. She didn’t sense anyone noticing her swollen tits which was a testament to her clothing choice erzurum escort and her avoiding the men who she’d previously identified as the horniest and most aggressive. At home she removed her blouse with the hope of finding wrinkles in her bra cups that would show shrinkage of her breasts. To her chagrin the bra still seemed to fit snuggly. She twisted and turned but couldn’t produce a single wrinkle.

Candace poured herself a scotch. She’d spent the day feeling that her life would soon be in control. She’d convinced herself that 34DD would be manageable and based on how she’d felt on Friday, perhaps even pretty hot. That was the size she felt was mutually good for both Steve’s lust and her job. She’d had her outfits for the week all picked out and was pleased with her organizational skills. Now everything was off. E just seemed a whole lot harder to cope with than DD.

While she sipped on a second scotch Candace considered Steve’s job offer seriously for the first time. If her breasts remained at their present size she couldn’t see a future in TV news. Her agent could probably get her work in tits and ass movies and maybe a role in a TV series. She’d be cast as the sexy mistress or hooker. Those roles would keep her on TV for a few years until she aged out of the ‘young and sexy’ class but staying on TV was never her real goal. She’d wanted to be respected as an intelligent woman. TV journalism served that end well but it wasn’t the only career path she could take.

She started to wonder if she was talking herself into becoming Steve’s trophy bimbo.

There were definite positives. Steve had offered permanency for her big breasts; she wouldn’t have to worry about his company or his affection. He’d offered a good job or capital which she could use to start a business. On the negative side, he hadn’t offered marriage and he’d made it clear his offer wasn’t for a life-long relationship. It sounded just like the trophy wife contract she’d learned about from Tiffany on Saturday. A rich guy hires a busty sex toy with the expectation that he’ll turn her in for a new model when she hits 40 or so; she agrees to the deal to get a nice lifestyle and a financial package. It certainly wasn’t what she’d expected for herself.

If she was too big to be on the TV News she’d need a job. Steve’s offer was as good or better than anything she was likely to land on her own. Was that Tiff’s reasoning? Tiff seemed very content in her role as a trophy and she wasn’t even getting good sex. By contrast, Steve was a great lover. Having a relationship with him over the next ten years or so would be very sexually pleasing.

Candace was ashamed at how she’d thought of Tiff when they first met. Perhaps Tiff had the right view of how to be happy in life. Maybe Candace’s dream of a TV career was just like Tiff’s thoughts of starting as a cheerleader and then becoming an actress. Pretty girls sometimes had dreams that just didn’t work out. It was good to have a Plan B as Tiff had done; be found by and signed up by a rich husband. Tiff had been smart to have a Plan B. Candace had been the airhead.

A third scotch was poured as Candace thought about her big tits. She was certain that Steve had made them. She’d thought of him as the Devil for doing that to her but had also grown to love having a voluptuous body. She really couldn’t imagine going back to her old body. The exact cup size wasn’t critical but keeping them larger than her natural A cup certainly was.

Candace’s hands roamed over her chest. Her tits felt great. Dropping her hand down to feel her waist and hips confirmed her exaggerated hour glass shape- the envy of many and the driver of Steve’s lust. She needed to consult with Steve’s doctor to find out about the new implants.

The phrase ‘Size matters’ popped up in Candace’s mind as she weighed her large breasts. While the phrase was usually focused on cocks it was equally applicable to breast size. She couldn’t lose her tits. Everything in life had changed for her as her tits had grown. While there were creepy aspects of Steve’s secret actions she was much happier now than when they’d first met. Her sex life was ten times better; her career had zoomed and she felt better about herself.

This all meant that preserving her breasts should be her top priority. She texted Steve with a request that he send her biological info to the doctor and set up an appointment ASAP. She really had mixed feelings about her huge breasts; there was a part of her that loved being Steve’s sex object. After a few more sips of scotch she decided to make the best of her current condition and sent him another text which said, “Titfuck my E cup tits? Now?”

Candace’s phone chirped: “Love to. Be there in 15.”

Steve arrived and hugged her. The couple then kissed passionately. Within a few minutes Steve had Candace’s blouse off. He stared longing at her huge breasts which were barely contained by her bra. As he was unhooking her bra he said, “I ‘m guessing türk porno your breasts didn’t shrink today as you’d hoped. Obviously there’s a part of me that feels sorry for you but there’s a very hard cock in my pants that loves your breasts just as they are.”

“I know. That’s why I invited you. Rather than angst over my size I thought I’d share my endowment with your cock which seems to have a particular affinity to oversized breasts.”

With the bra discarded Steve’s hands caressed her breasts and he told how spectacular they looked and felt. She moaned with arousal as his palms rubbed over her protruding nipples. After a minute of fondling Steve looked around the room. He concluded that if Candace sat on one of the dining room chairs her tits would align well with his cock. He pulled the chair out and turned it away from the table. Using just his eyes he gestured to the chair. Candace understood his plan and sat down using just the front half of the chair and spreading her legs as wide as she could. This allowed him to step close with his cock sticking up at an angle just an inch or two away from her deep cleavage.

She said, “I assume you’d like saliva as natural lube rather than anything out of a tube. I think we’ve already agreed that a little friction is good and you like to watch me lube you up naturally.” Candace made an odd facial movement which Steve intuitively knew meant she was collecting saliva in her mouth. She bent over to lower her head and he brought his cock to her mouth. She opened and enveloped his cock in her moistened mouth. Using her tongue she did her best to tease him while getting him wet. After 30 seconds she pulled back and tipped her head- dribbling saliva onto her upper chest so it could slide down into her cleavage. She collected some more saliva and repeated her dribbling with a target about 3 inches lower- right between her breasts.

Lifting her head and pushing her breasts forward she looked into his eyes and said, “Enjoy.”

Steve moved forward and rested his erect cock between her massive breasts. Simultaneously Candace let some added saliva drop from her mouth – landing just above his cockhead. She placed a hand to the outside of her rack on both sides and pushed inward- enveloping him in the wet cushiony softness of her tits.

Steve loved the sight of his cock being squeezed in her flesh. The sensuous feel of her soft tits conforming to his shaft and being pressed into a sexy sleeve for his pleasure was hugely exciting. He could visualize how good it was going to feel as he was about to thrust in this tunnel.

He drew back his cock an inch or two and then thrust upward into the heart of her pillowy tits. As he did a mix of a moan and growl escaped from his lips. He then said, “So good. Spectacular to look at and heaven to fuck.”

“Glad you like them,” quipped Candace. “There’s a lot of flesh being wasted here. You either need to double the size of your cock or I might as well be a D or DD. Right now we’re being wasteful.”

“Wasteful is just fine by me. I know you want to be smaller. Hopefully you’ll be a DD tomorrow and you’ll be so grateful that you’ll invite me to fuck you like this again.”

“Consider yourself invited. If I’m a DD you can fuck my tits just about any time you want.”

Steve repeated his plunging upward and withdrawing slowly. His movements were deliberate rather than forceful as he knew that her tits were sensitive and shouldn’t be treated too roughly. If he bruised her she wouldn’t be so keen to repeat the encounter a day later. Keeping the pace under control also let him savor the experience- it was like luxuriating in a sip of fine wine rather than downing a shot of liquor. He loved to pound her with his cock but her tits called for a different approach. Her breasts felt great.

Candace interrupted his thoughts by telling him to stop for a second while she added some more lube. He was again enthralled by watching her saliva drop from her mouth to his cockhead and to see his cock disappear into her cleavage. Seconds later he told her how obscenely great that had looked as he pumped his cock more forcefully into the wet tunnel.

His arousal was increasing and they both knew he’d be reaching his climax soon. Candace teased him by saying, “You’re going to make a mess on my beautiful big breasts very soon. I can feel it. Your cock has gotten even harder. The pressure is building up. I’m sure you can feel it; my tits are just too big and sensuous for you.”

Steve grunted in implicit agreement and thrust a little harder. Candace squeezed her breasts tighter saying, “Go on…spurt on me. That’s what tits this big are for- draining a horn dog’s hard cock.”

With that Steve gasped and Candace could feel his body tense as his cock twitched to produce 2 or 3 firm spurts and several smaller jerks that were either small ejaculations or dry ones. Candace held her tits tightly around him – not wanting to spoil his pleasure. Only when she was sure he was done did she gradually back her hands off. As her breasts returned to their normal position his cock emerged-in a semi- erect state glistening with saliva and semen. Her breasts were also coated with their fluids in a post orgasm tableau. A few ropes of the mess stretched between them before breaking and falling onto her.

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

New Discoveries

Mark woke up early as usual, but today seemed a bit off for some reason. He extracted himself out of the bed, leaving Rayven sleeping peacefully, visited the washroom and then made his way to his office. That’s when he noticed it was only 5:00… he was up earlier than normal!

Once he had his coffee in hand, Cricket said, “I may have found where Sebastian went, I’ve detected the sensor beacon we had sent with the Lorant, but I don’t detect the Lorant or the Phalynx.”

“Is it one of the space-faring races we know about?”

“The ships don’t match anything in our database and they appear to have pretty simple space faring ships, so I would say it is possibly one of the species we’ve encountered before, but I’m not sure. I am currently monitoring their space for signs of faster than light travel as that’s a big indicator as to their technological capabilities.”

“Any other habitable planets in that system?”

“None that I’ve detected so far!”

“Keep monitoring them for a while and continue to drop beacons in their space, I’d like to know as much about them as possible before we make contact. It goes without saying that, if you locate Sebastian, notify me immediately!”

Mark then thought for a second, “Just out of curiosity, if we were to go there, how long would it take?”

“From Atlanterra it would take about 10 days, from Earth about 12 days and that’s with our updated star charts and monitoring. I won’t be able to detect Sebastian though, even if he was there, the sensor system wasn’t designed to do that, I can detect the beacon we sent with the Lorant and I can detect items in space, and I can see the overall planet, but I can’t scan the surface of the planet.”

“Just curious, but which Federation planet is closest to their space?”

“It’s a moon, but that would be Marnot. It’s a sparsely populated jungle moon about 3 light days from that planet.”

“We have a Destroyer around Marnot right?”

“Yes, just one as per your initial suggestion.”

Mark looked at all the clocks on the wall to the left of his desk. He had one clock for the senate chamber time zone for every planet. Seeing it was afternoon on Atlanterra, he called General Marsbe.

Just as the General’s hologram appeared, Mark started speaking, “Kaleb, how are you today my friend?”

“I’m doing well, my King, how are you today? It’s awfully early to be up for you isn’t it? It’s only about 5:00 there isn’t it?”

“It is! But there’s no rest for a king.”

“So, what can I do for you today?”

“I’m not sure if you are aware or not, but we’ve just located another habitable planet and they are space faring. Possibly one of the ones we’ve encountered before.”

The General was surprised, “Really?” as Mark heard a notification sound on Kaleb’s computer as he laughed, “You work fast, I just got the notice.”

“What can I say? I am in tune with the universe!”

“That you are sir! That you are! So are you wanting to send an ambassador on a diplomatic mission?”

“Eventually yes, but we’ve detected the beacon we sent with the Lorant, so that may be where the bastard went. So right now, I’m thinking of sending a couple of Destroyers that way, fully cloaked, to just monitor their planet from a distance and do some scans to see if we can locate Sebastian, the Phalynx, the Lorant or any of the crew. Maybe eventually sneak in to their orbit, but let’s start from a distance and see if we get any reactions.”

“My report does not mention anything, other than a planet was found. Did you want to send the one from Marnot? It’s fairly close.”

“I thought of that too, but I really hate the idea of leaving any planet undefended. I can’t see a few extra days without direct surveillance being an issue, so just send two from Atlanterra.”

“I’ll send them right away, that allows us to keep all of the Destroyers busy with the month on, month off schedules.”

“I’m good with that! We can always redeploy them later, if we have to, and we’re not using the shipyards for anything other than more seeding ships. So we can make more, or other, ships quickly if we have to.”

“We are in a good position thanks to you! Was there anything else you needed sir?”

“That is all. Thanks Kaleb.” Mark said as they ended the call.

Satisfied that they would soon have more information about this new planet and that they had active monitoring of that region of space, Mark went outside and walked around to an east facing balcony to watch the rising sun.

Rayven soon approached Mark with a cup of tea in her hand and gave him a good morning kiss as they leaned against the wall. Together they watched the city wake up.

Mark informed her about the new planet that was discovered and that it may be where the bastard fled to.

She asked, “Are you leaving?”

He said, “Maybe, but not for a few weeks as it’s going to take 10 days of light drive for the Destroyers from denizli escort Atlanterra to reach the planet. So, for the time being, they are going to monitor the planet from a distance, before we make contact.”

Cricket then spoke to Mark, “I’m fairly positive that’s where Sebastian went now. I still can’t detect the Phalynx or the Lorant, but six of their ships just jumped into light drive and, based on exit trajectory, they could be headed toward Atlanterra!”

“Any idea on an ETA?”

“None yet, based on their technology I highly doubt they would be able to make Atlanterra in one jump without stopping.”

“Keep me posted if they drop out of light drive, based on time, distance and trajectory we should be able to get a better timeline.”

Mark pondered aloud, “Hmmmm, six ships!”

Rayven asked, “What is six ships?”

Mark explained, “That new planet we just discovered, we just detected six ships on a potential path toward Atlanterra. We’ll have to see where their next jumps take them, but I have a hunch…”

Rayven sounded worried, “You think they might attack?”

Mark said, “Well… the bastard has a grudge… he thinks I’m illegitimate and that I don’t know anything… and if he thinks we’re still with only six ships, which is all we’ve had for centuries… the numbers add up and tell me we should play defence and be cautious.”

Rayven then hugged him and gave him a kiss, “I’m so glad you are our leader, the way your mind works just makes me swoon when I think of your mental capacity. You think in so many dimensions, it just baffles me.”

Mark just hugged her back, “I have to protect billions of citizens, I can’t afford to think in one dimension.”

Rayven just hugged him, “Exactly! You are in charge of several billion citizens and you’re still a grounded practical guy. I love you so much!”

As they kissed, Rayven freed Mark’s rapidly hardening cock from its confines and guided it under her night shirt as she turned around and resumed leaning on the balcony railing. Mark slid into her already wet pussy and they slowly fucked as they went back to watching the city wake up.

After a few minutes of slowly tender fucking, Marta and Laruun came out to the balcony with their morning beverages.

At first they didn’t even realize Mark and Rayven were fucking, until Laruun noticed Rayven’s cock was hard and sticking straight out. Laruun pointed it out to Marta, who suppressed her giggle as Laruun motioned her back with a nod of her head.

The two cat girls laid back on the lounge chairs and spread their legs wide and used their fingers to spread their pussy lips apart. Laruun then said, “Would you two like some wet pussies for your cocks to cum in?”

Rayven and Mark glanced behind them as they hadn’t even noticed the girls had left. Both cat girls were lying back exposing their inner pinkness with one hand while fingering their wet slits with the other.

Rayven turned around and kissed Mark, leaving him standing there with his cock hanging out and said, “Sorry babe, you’ll have to cum in a kitty this morning, because my cock definitely wants to cum in a kitty.”

Rayven went to Laruun and mounted her missionary style, while Mark did the same to Marta. After a few strokes however, Mark lifted Marta up, while still staying inside her, and then lowered himself down onto the lounger with her on top. He preferred this position with Marta and Laruun as it made it easier to suckle the sweet milk from their breasts and Marta didn’t mind either, as she proceeded to fuck Mark’s cock as deep into her womb as she could.

After a few minutes of energetic fucking, both Rayven and Mark were erupting deep into the cat girls. After their orgasms, the couples laid back on the loungers with their now softening cocks still inside the cum filled pussies. Mark loved cuddling with the busty tigress.

It wasn’t until Mark took a sip of his now cold coffee, that they got up and dressed and went inside to replace their drinks with hot ones. Soon they were back on the balcony, watching the city awaken, as the others eventually joined them.

Liyana had obviously gotten a message about the new discovery, as that was the first thing she asked about when she came out to the balcony, so Mark then brought everyone up to date with far more information than what Liyana had.

With nothing on his schedule for the day, Mark found himself sitting in his office. There was a few things that had been said recently during casual conversation that kept popping into Mark’s thoughts. One thing was the month on, month off schedules, another was about leaving a planet undefended and lastly was about not using the shipyards for anything other than building seeding ships anymore.

So Mark got to thinking about all of those issues, throughout the day.

The month on/off schedules actually also referenced something that Taryn had said about iskenderun escort moving around all the time. Now that their universe was growing and planets were getting pretty far apart, it didn’t make sense to always staff them from Atlanterra, since eventually planets were going to be so spread out that so much time would be wasted in transit. So maybe they should look at different staffing options? If they staffed the security from the local population, then they ran the risk of corruption. If you know you’re seldom going to be checked up on, rules eventually start to be ignored and the system goes downhill from there.

The time lost in transit would also affect the seeding ships, if they were all being built at the shipyards, it was already taking quite a while until they actually reached the edge of their explored space and could begin to seed sensor beacons.

For local staffing to work effectively, management couldn’t be local, maybe make the position a termed post, like an Earth-based military posting, they could be posted at a station for a set term and then they could move on to another station, which meant their families would need to move with them.

Mark then thought, “Hmmmm… station… Maybe we need to rethink the security stations and prisons? Cricket, tell me about the security stations that are around every planet?”

Cricket explained, “They are basic, they’re more or less an orbital prison with landing bays for emergency shuttles.”

“Do they have weapons?”

“They have laser turrets and pulse cannons and there’s usually a few fighters stationed there that have the same armaments.”

“… but they have no engines?”

“Correct, orbital units don’t have sub-light engines, but they do have lateral thrusters to make orbital adjustments… they have very limited mobility.”

Mark thought on what she just said and suddenly a thought came to him, “What if we designed a security station that was almost city sized? Kind of like the embassy, except not really for public access. I’m thinking, what if we turned the security stations into lean mean fighting machines and separate out the prison part and leave it orbital?”

“I can see what you are thinking! The idea definitely has merit, it addresses all of your thoughts that keep coming to the forefront of your mind. Let me see if I can design something that like what you are thinking.”

Knowing Cricket was on it, Mark suddenly found his mind was at rest. His only thoughts now were about Annabelle, who was arriving tonight. He really loved that girl and missed her when they were apart. Sure Rayven was his constant companion and he loved her dearly as well, but Mark was thinking maybe it was time to ask her to be his queen?

Mark called Joe and Kat to ask for their blessing and just to touch base since it had been a while since they had talked.

It looked like Jason was going to stay and run the ranch once they moved and one of Kat’s friends was also a certified trainer, so she was going to take over the riding lessons and horse training. Jorge, Maria and Sofia were going to live there and help run the ranch. Then they were just going to fly back and forth if there was a large group booking for multi-day trail rides. Of course, they also gave their blessing to his proposal.

When he talked to Liyana about a ring, she informed him that rings weren’t typically used in the Federation, at least in the past thousand years or so, mainly because it was considered a sign of ownership. So he asked about weddings and she filled him in on how weddings went down in the Federation.

More or less weddings in the Federation were a simple public exchange of vows. In the case of a royal wedding it, historically, involved the King presenting the Queen with her crown and the bride would then be given the King’s trident by the official and she would present it to the King. They would then seal the marriage with a kiss, and they would go down the aisle, while both were holding the trident.

Then she asked if she could be the wedding planner and Mark said he’d have to talk it over with Annabelle, after he popped the question.

Maren and Annabelle arrived around 22:00, just as everyone was getting ready for bed on Friday night. Needless to say after not seeing Annabelle for a week, or much of Maren since Atlantis was born, Friday night turned into an orgy with Mark and Rayven both cumming in each pussy more than once.

Saturday was a fun day, Mark, Annabelle, Rayven, Solara, Laruun and Marta spent most of the morning at the Survival Park. They played a few games, Mark came close to winning two of them, but Solara won all three. It was very difficult to see her among the abundant green foliage. After they finished, it was a unanimous decision that the Jurassic Park and Warrior Tribes hazards were the best ones and no one liked the Giant Spiders and Snakes hazards.

After rus porno getting all worked up and sweaty, everyone went to relax in the pools and fountains in the central parks, however Mark and Annabelle opted to go visit the ranch, something Annabelle did every weekend that she came to the island, so Solara gave them a briefcase-sized toolkit to take with them. She said it was a prototype camping kit that she had been developing as a surprise for Joe and Kat, so she suggested they try one of the overnight trails so they can try out the kit and give her some feedback.

They grabbed a lift and were soon landing at the ranch, where the centaurs all greeted them as they exited the lift. They were all eager to inform Annabelle of the numerous trails they had scouted out. There were 4 quick trails that could be done with less than 2 hours ride one way. They had 3 trails that would be full day rides, with a single direction taking 3 to 4 hours. They had also scouted three multi-day trails. The overnight one was directly up to the Meteor Plateau taking 5 to 6 hours, the other was along the foothills toward the Evenor River delta, then returning via the Meteor Plateau. The big trip was a one week trip, it went up into the mountains, skirting around Mount Cleito and Mount Pynx, passing by Poseidon’s Garden and ending up at a lake between Mount Hymettus and Mount Lycabettus.

Since they had time, and they wanted to try out Solara’s invention, they opted to take the overnight trip up to the Meteor Plateau and the two female centaurs were glad to take them. Mark rode on Candy, while Annabelle rode Dany.

It was a long ride, but they made it up to the lake at the top of the Meteor Plateau after a little more than 5 hours of riding. Just in time to watch a gorgeous sunset as the sun started to sink into the sea. The view from the top of the Meteor Plateau was very scenic, there was a large lake with an island in the middle of it and lots of deep rooted trees, not shallow rooted palm trees.

As the daylight waned and everyone was getting hungry, they opened the case to see what was inside. They found a bunch of different coloured disks in the foam padded case. There were 18 disks in all, 1 was green, 12 were blue, 4 were red and 1 was orange.

The instructions on the inside cover read…

1. Place green cookhouse disk on ground in the centre of camp, arrow indicates door, press button to activate. (Ensure 3 metres clearance on all sides.)

2. Once step one is complete, place required number of blue cabin disks on ground inside the camp perimeter, point arrow to cookhouse, press button to activate. (Ensure 2 metres clearance on all sides.)

3. Once step two is complete, place required number of red barn disks on ground inside camp perimeter, point arrow to cookhouse, press button to activate. (Ensure 3 metres clearance on all sides.)

4. Place orange fire disk on ground inside camp perimeter, point arrow to cookhouse, press button for number of benches to activate.

They took the green disk and put it on the ground about 7 metres away from any trees and pressed the button. A voice announced ‘Stand Back’ and the disk began to construct a building. Within about 5 minutes there was a cookhouse 3 metres wide and 5 metres long, complete with a door, concession window and a porch that wrapped around the building. The roof extended out far enough to cover the porch.

They went inside and saw there was a food synth and prep counter with sink, complete with an empty cupboard with a touchscreen beside it. There was a fold down concession window on the opposite side of the counter and there was a cooktop and oven along the back wall.

There was a control panel off to the side of the door that showed there was now a shield, with up and down arrow icons to adjust the perimeter size. Since security wasn’t really an issue, they left the shield size at the default size, which was big enough for everything in the case.

The display also showed the matter as 10 kilograms, that number would decrease as pots, pans, plates and food were made, but it would be reclaimed as people went to the washroom and anything used for the meal, including leftovers, went into the recycle bin. If you ever needed more mass you could throw sticks, rocks, dirt or whatever into the bin.

They exited the cookhouse and walked around the building, one side had the concession window and mounted in the wall beside it was a cutlery dispenser, a drink dispenser and two little doors, one with a cup and the other with a glass, and there was also a waste bin. The back of the building had two good-sized washrooms that even the centaurs could use, with the standard squat type toilets that were common across much of the Federation. As you left the washroom and closed the door, it would recycle the waste and reset the washroom.

Mark took a blue disk and placed it on the ground, pointed the arrow to the cookhouse and pushed the button. It constructed a small cabin that was 3 metres wide and 4 metres long, with a sloped roof going towards the back of the building and even it had it’s own little porch, which the roof covered, plus it created a walkway to the cook shack. After about a minute the door opened and they went inside.

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“The Orcs of Ironfist Harbor are funneling arms to Highmaul.”

“Are you sure?” Pinter asked. “Yesterday in Gorgrond we found a pond full of waterbeasts instead of the Blackrock you promised.”

Pinter stood with Scout Valdez at the operations table in her town hall. A blaze nearly the size of a bonfire roared in the large meeting room fireplace as soft, purple sunrise shone through the window. Scout Valdez shifted just slightly as he examined the map spread on the table. He had a strong constitution, but Pinter had grown so much in a few weeks. When she asked a question, she wanted an answer. “Qiana returned from her reconnaissance at midnight,” Valdez said. “We are confident.”

“Very well,” Pinter said. “The day is clear. Destroy the supplies, kill the Highmaul emissary, and assassinate General Kul’krosh. I’ll find Mandala.”

“Good luck, Commander,” Valdez said.

He clicked his heels and saluted. Pinter returned with her hand at her forehead, and she left the town hall.

News of Pinter’s victory in the Slag Mines traveled fast. Very quickly Pinter earned a reputation, earned her gold, and won favor with Khadgar. Now she commanded a true fortress, nearly a castle, and one hundred Dwarves straight from Ironforge kept watch day and night. Pinter was a Commander, and she talked the part.

Pinter walked through the infant morning with the stiff smell of her stables permeating the dew-soaked air. The windows of the Testy Talbuk, her garrison inn, glowed soft and gentle with the day just beginning. She had the place built shortly after King Arian Wrynn himself expanded the walls of her garrison, and now she used it as the hub of her activities. Strange travelers somehow found their way to her garrison, each of them weaving some tale of adventure that usually ended with her and Mandala trekking to some dangerous part of Draenor and returning with whatever exotic treasure they had been sent for. The Testy Talbuk also attracted curious wanderers from Azeroth, and they were usually ripe for recruiting to her ranks, adding to garrison defense, volunteering for missions around Draenor to procure resources, loot gold, and cause general mayhem for the Iron Horde and their allies. The Testy Talbuk was also just a good place to enjoy a meal now and then, and Pinter even had her own private room if she ever wanted it.

Innkeeper Allison looked up from the bar as she ran a white cloth down its length. She smiled for Pinter and already bubbled with enthusiasm despite the early hour. “Good morning, Commander!”

“Is Mandala upstairs?” Pinter asked.

“Same room,” Allison said with a smirk. “Same room.”

Pinter passed a few tables already filled with workers from the barn enjoying breakfast before they spent the day toiling until sunset. She nodded at them as they greeted her, and she walked to the staircase.

She didn’t have to knock. As soon as Pinter reached the top step, two Dwarves wandered out of a corner room in just their underclothes, their armor in heaping handfuls that they struggled through as they kicked open the door with their feet. They saw Pinter and paused, staring over the mounds in their hands.

“Morning, fellas,” Pinter said.

“Commander,” one of the Dwarves said, and that was that. Pinter stepped aside as they went to the stairs.

She opened the door and found the purple-skinned Draenei sitting naked on the bed with her armor laid out at her feet. “Commander Pinter,” Mandala said. “I’ll be ready shortly.”

“Honestly, don’t you ever spend time in your own garrison?” Pinter asked.

“I have Draenei guarding mine,” Mandala said, her accent so wonderful to Pinter’s ears. “Your Dwarves are so much more fun.”

Pinter shook her head as Mandala laughed to herself. She stood, and the beautiful curves so common to her race snaked their way through the early morning. Pinter had a glimpse of dark nipples on Mandala’s perfect breasts. Draenei women truly were a sight, absolutely lovely, seemingly so delicate, but then Mandala hefted her plate leggings up to her waist. The paladin was a little wild, sure, but Pinter trusted no one else in the dark depths of Draenor. “Just be ready to fly,” Pinter said. “We’re assaulting Ironfist Harbor.”

“You are far too serious,” Mandala said as she slipped into her red breastplate. “You need some fun in your life.”

Pinter laughed, deflecting the jest, and she went back to the dining room for a cup of warm milk.

Maybe Mandala was right. After all, Pinter had saved Mandala’s life, snatching her back from the edge when death was just moments away. Ever since the fight in Bloodmaul, Mandala had been staying in Pinter’s garrison, enjoying the company, sleeping with whoever she could convince. Mandala didn’t have to do much with a body like hers. Pinter typically found her with one or two lovers each morning, usually Dwarven defenders, sometimes the mysterious traveler from the day before. Why wouldn’t Mandala enjoy herself when she had been denizli escort so close to the end?

Pinter had done nothing but build her garrison since Bloodmaul, since her night with Kerrak. Maybe she could stand to loosen up, too. But every time she thought she had a free moment to be easy and relax, some other instance demanded Pinter’s attention. She loved her life and was proud of what she knew Kerrak had helped her become. She was thankful for the chance to share something so magical with someone who had needed it just as badly as she did, but now Pinter had bigger business to attend to. She was a Commander, and so she acted like one.

Mandala dressed quickly indeed. She joined Pinter at the bar for a glass of milk in her full set of armor, her domineering visage drawing the usual awed stares from the garrison laborers in the dining room. Pinter and Mandala toasted the day, and then they bought their gryphon rides into Nagrand.

* * *

Pinter marveled at how much more quickly events transpired with an available flight path. A silly little Goblin greeted them on arrival in Nagrand and handed over the reins of two wolf mounts. Soon Pinter and Mandala sped west towards Ironfist Harbor.

Mandala cut in half the first two Orcs that greeted them. Pinter stayed far behind the Draenei paladin, who didn’t even need her for the most part, but as Mandala fought a trio of heavily armored Orcs just inside the harbor gates four more raced up the road to join the fight. Each one fell with an arrow in his eye slit.

Pinter and Mandala fought their way past large wagons filled with supplies, and they tossed torches and lighted arrows into each one. Every laborer who tried to stop them wound up dead. The two adventurers found their way to a large ring, an amphitheater of sorts, where a hefty Ogre in ornamental robes held a meeting with seven Orcs. Mandala charged into the ring with a war cry. The attendees turned all too late, and three of the Orcs were headless before the Ogre picked up his club to fight. Pinter downed the towering brute with an arrow through his forehead. Mandala cut the legs from the other Orcs, and they rushed to the tower where General Kul’krosh held his counsel.

A few Orcs in black armor met them on the spiral staircase inside, but none were a match. Pinter and Mandala emerged on the tower roof to find Kul’krosh ready for them with two large axes in hand. Pinter slowly walked out to the flank as the menacing Orc kept his eye on the two raiders, and then Mandala threw her axe shield.

Kul’krosh flicked it aside with one of his axes and ducked Pinter’s shot, but the hunter and the paladin were too much for him to handle at once. Mandala fought in a sweeping dance as she anticipated Pinter’s every shot, careful from experience not to stand still while she knew another volley was coming. Mandala’s shield parried a mighty strike from Kul’krosh. He dodged back from her counterstrike, raised his axe to strike in return. Pinter was waiting for this with two arrows primed and ready. She let loose. Kul’krosh fell dead with both eye sockets plugged.

Mandala searched the dead Orc general’s pockets and tossed Pinter some of the gold she found. Pinter looked over the harbor, perfectly ablaze with their handiwork. “Some morning,” Pinter said.

“We’ve had better,” Mandala said.

The two women walked uncontested through the harbor’s main gates. They turned east down the sandy road, but then what sounded like a lion wailing in agony drew their attention. Another tower was just off the road, buried in the thick trees, easily missed when they came this way earlier. Pinter kicked her wolf and hurried to see what the commotion was. “It’s not our mission,” Mandala said.

“Someone needs us,” Pinter said, and she leapt from her wolf, bursting through the tower’s main door.

Pinter was lightning up the spiral stairs taking the steps two at a time. As she reached the top she heard the deep, growly tone of an Orc as he laughed in derision. “I like how you cower, young Saberon,” the Orc said. “Do not stop or I will cut you again out of boredom.”

There was a loudcrackof a whip, and the agonized cry ripped through Pinter’s belly again, churning her insides with rage and pity for whoever suffered so terribly. She found herself beneath a closed trapdoor. She opened it a crack with a careful poke from her bow. Pinter saw two stout feet wearing heavy mail boots. There was a cage nearby, and a large sandy colored humanoid crouched in the corner crying as he endured his torture. Pinter growled at the sight, and she was in the open.

The Orc turned. A large Orc in a red tunic, a whip in one hand, a dagger in the other. He saw Pinter, who dashed to the side as the whip cracked down and missed her. The wooden floor splintered with the strike. Pinter set her arrow and fired. The Orc dodged, but he was too slow for Pinter herself. She rammed headlong into him, powered her legs anal porno with every ounce of retribution she could muster, and shoved the torturer over the side. He screamed as he fell, and he went silent as he landed with the loudsnapof multiple breaking bones. Pinter watched him for a moment, his limbs all bent at insane angles, and she turned to the cage.

It was a Saberon, one of the cat people she and Mandala had encountered while adventuring through Nagrand. Saberons bore signs of intelligence, but they managed little more than primitive villages in the grasslands. This Saberon wore a small loincloth and nothing else. His upper body was powerful, muscular beneath his soft yellow fur, but he was lined with lash marks. There was a cut on his cheek that stood out in dark red contrast to the rest of his body. Pinter stepped forward, and the Saberon pressed back against the corner of his cage with his body rising and falling with fast, frightened breaths.

Pinter shouldered her bow, stopped, and opened her hands in peace. “It’s okay,” she said. “I won’t hurt you. It’s over. He’s dead.”

The Saberon stared at Pinter with wild, yellow eyes. He glanced briefly over Pinter’s shoulder. She looked, and she saw the key hanging from a nail. “I’ll let you out,” Pinter said.

Pinter stepped closer to the cage. The Saberon drew back more. “It’s okay,” Pinter said. She put her fingers through the iron bars, and she waited. The Saberon’s breath slowed, and then he inched closer to her. He moved his nose to Pinter’s fingers, and he sniffed her. She laughed a little as he licked her fingertips with his rough tongue.

“Was it worth it?” Mandala asked as they rode again on their wolves. The flight station was just ahead.

Pinter looked back at the Saberon who trailed them by ten yards like an unsure pet. He walked on his hind legs, his thick, strapping arms held out to his side. Pinter made eye contact with him. The Saberon stopped for a second, only to rush ahead so he could make up the lost ground and continue on. “He’s free and he’s safe,” Pinter said as she looked ahead again. “I’d say it was very worth it.”

“You do like to make friends,” Mandala said. They mounted their gryphons to return to Pinter’s garrison. She wasn’t sure if there would be room, but the Saberon gave her no choice. Pinter returned home with her new friend riding behind her.

* * *

The gryphon master in Pinter’s garrison watched them fly overhead. When they landed he walked up with his head cocked, motioning behind Pinter. “Who’s the newcomer?” he asked.

Before Pinter could answer or even dismount, the Saberon leapt from behind her and bounded away, straight into the large barn just up the road. A few startled shouts followed, accompanied by two shaken laborers who jumped into the open and looked around in confusion.

“He’s a friend,” Pinter said.

The Saberon never left the barn over the next three days. At first the workers were afraid to go to work, complaining that all the Saberon did was hide in the loft and rumble quietly to himself. Eventually, though, in less than a day even they got used to him. Pinter would go to the Testy Talbuk to rouse Manadala in the morning and see the workers finishing up breakfast, getting a nice bucket of water and waiting on fresh bacon and eggs for their new Saberon inhabitant. “He keeps to himself,” the barn keeper, Homer Stonefield, told Pinter at the end of that first day. “And he watches us. He’s a curious fellow. He may come in handy.”

Pinter knew how curious he was. Every morning when she went to Scout Valdez downstairs in the town hall he had a present for her, something someone left on the front step. Little wreaths of wound up hay waited for Pinter in the morning, and she spotted large cat prints in the dust leading to and from the town hall front door. She smiled to herself whenever she found them, and she always meant to go talk to her new friend. But the day’s mission always drew her away with Mandala, and they returned home victorious and so exhausted they only wanted to eat and turn in until the following day’s assignment. She was glad the Saberon seemed to be fitting in, though. Pinter knew she had done right by saving him in Nagrand.

One morning dawned with the horizon blood red. Pinter saw it from her chamber window, and something cold gripped her insides. Hasty footsteps stopped at her closed door, followed by a few quick knocks. “Commander, ma’am,” a nervous, young voice said. “You are needed.”

A few minutes later, Pinter stood on the front step with Scout Valdez and three of her Dwarf defenders. Sergeant Crowley, her Stormshield attaché, joined them with eyes narrowed on the dawn that seeped crimson like a saturated bandage. He sniffed the air. “Smoke,” he uttered. “The Iron Horde is coming.”

“How could they find us?” Pinter asked, but then a low war horn rang out somewhere far away but far too close for comfort.

“Rally the lads,” porno seyret the Dwarven Lieutenant said, and they were off.

“I’ll wake the Barracks,” Sergeant Crowley said rushing away.

“Go,” Pinter said as she unshouldered her bow. She pointed at Scout Valdez and Lieutenant Thorn, the one-eyed Worgen who drew up missions for Pinter’s followers. “Gather the townsfolk. Get them in the mine and seal the entrance. The rest of us will deal with this.”

“Yes, Commander,” they said, but Pinter was already running to the Testy Talbuk. The Dwarves blew their alarm, and an anxious blanket covered the garrison.

Mandala greeted Pinter at the door to the Talbuk tightening her leggings, her sword sheathed and her shield strapped to her back. “Who is attacking us?” the Draenei asked.

“The Iron Horde,” Pinter said, and then an iron star sizzled over the wall, blasting in a cloud of molten sparks, racing up the main road straight for the Town Hall. An astute team of Dwarves shoved a cargo cart in the star’s path, and there was an explosion of red flame and twisted metal. It settled, and Pinter motioned for the Dwarves who poured into the garrison square. “Set up positions! They’ll be coming through the gate.”

They were already there. Pinter and Mandala led the way, loosing a barrage of arrows, chopping down Orc after black-armored Orc that charged through the garrison gate. The Dwarves shouted with the rush of battle they had all secretly longed for these last few weeks, and no one was denied the chance to shatter shield with hammer, cleave helmet with blade, shed Iron Horde blood that morning.

Pinter and Mandala worked in their uncanny coordination. Pinter didn’t even stop to think as the Draenei paladin ran from pack to pack, startling the Orcs into a cloud of confusion, giving Pinter the chance to cut down stragglers with her careful aim. They fought with an unspoken language, like they were meant to find each other here in Draenor. The Dwarves took advantage of the confusion, of the gaping paths Pinter and Mandala cut through the Orc ranks that kept charging into the garrison only to meet a foe they had not counted on facing in a hundred years. Pinter wondered if this was it, if this was all Grommash’s finest had to offer.

“Rylak!” a Dwarven voice called out.

Pinter looked above the town hall. A long shape with bat wings and the tail of an ear wig descended in silhouette from the morning sky. Two necks extended from the body, both with heads that barked like hell hounds. One of the heads jerked backwards, and a blue ball of lightning flew into the ground leaving a wide zone of crackling static.

“Pinter?” Mandala said, looking back from the pile of dead Orcs she had created.

“Stay here,” Pinter said. “I’ll deal with it.”

Mandala nodded and went back to work. Pinter was off and running.

She shouted commands to a few Dwarves that stared at the descending rylak in shock. They broke their paralysis at the sight of Pinter with bow in hand rushing headlong to destroy this new threat to everything she and so many others had worked to build. Two of the Dwarves joined Pinter with repeating rifles, and they aimed with her at the horrible flying beast. “Draw it to the ground,” Pinter said. “And keep firing while the others hack it to pieces.”

“Aye, m’lady,” the Dwarves said. The air cracked with rifle fire and whistled with Pinter’s arrows. The rylak landed and reared back with both heads roaring in challenge. Six Dwarf warriors were on it immediately. Pinter and her riflemen kept up their barrage, aiming for the beast’s eyes, distracting it while the warriors got close, got personal, got bloody. One of the heads whipped to the left, sending one of the Dwarves flying with a cry. The others jumped into the opening, each one finding flesh for his blade. The rylak howled in pain. Pinter found her killing blow, and she fired. Her arrow pierced straight through one of the rylak’s chins. The head swung lazily back and forth, crashing dead on the ground. The other head was weighted by its fallen counterpart, low enough for the warriors to finally strike home and sever it. Rylak blood poured through Pinter’s town square. It was dead.

A cheer went up, and Pinter felt the surge of morale from the victorious moment. A dozen more Dwarves seemed to appear out of nowhere ready to join the fight. They charged with Pinter back to the garrison gate where Mandala and the others were pushing back the last of the Iron Horde invaders who were too stupid not to flee. Pinter cut down two more Orcs. Mandala chopped one in half from shoulder to crotch. The Dwarves cleaned up the remaining mess, and everyone looked around as the morning suddenly went quiet.

The Dwarf Lieutenant panted over a groaning, incapacitated Orc who clutched his stumped leg on the edge of consciousness. He laughed. “Is that it?”

Sergeant Crowley stared cold and calculating through the garrison gate. Pinter followed his gaze, and then she heard it. The deep rumble of an engine. The ground vibrated through the soles of her boots, up her legs, into her knees. It wasn’t over yet. “Siege engine!” Pinter shouted.

“Form a line!” Mandala ordered, and then three of the Dwarves flew as the ground burst beneath their feet.

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Melody was the whore of a married man.

The taste of his cum was still in her mouth, it was threatening to run down her legs on the subway ride home. She couldn’t sit, since it was so obvious she had no underwear.

She was in shock, this was something she thought she’d never do.

I am the whore of a married man.

The thought reverberated in her mind since she signed her name in blood. Those words would pull her out of a sound sleep.

What had she done?

He didn’t even pretend to be single, he practically shoved her face into photographs of his family while he fucked her.

Melody was well fucked.

Her body was tired, and it was late. It was the time of day that a woman alone on the train would not have to go looking for trouble, it would just find her.

The world seemed more vacant. The train car was empty, save for herself and a sleeping homeless man in the other corner. She hadn’t come across another soul since she left work.

She hadn’t felt alive since she left the presence of her Master.

His cum had dribbled down between her thighs.

She scooped two fingers worth into her mouth.

There. There it was.

His cum was her life.

The door at the other end of the train opened, spilling street punks into the compartment.

“Oh shit.”

She said to herself, her hand mid scoop into her cunt searching for more cum, cum that was smeared on her lips and chin.

“Hello fatty! Look boys, fatty here is priming herself up for us.”

The three men encircled her as the train rocked between stations.

“A fat fuck wouldn’t be my first choice, but any cunt in a storm, eh fellas?”

The laughter of the other two was slow and full of bass. The tall one slapped her hard on her ass, the short fat one pulled her arms back around a pole. Their leader leaned in to smell Melody’s tits, and then ripped her blouse open exposing them to the world.

“Look at the size of those tits boys!”

“Dude! She got a mark!”

The short fat punk released Melody like he’d been scalded. She tumbled forward into the bench seats of the train.

Melody was ready to fuck. She wanted to fuck. She tried to unzip the nearest punk who then flinched away from her.

He looked her in the face.

“You tell your Master we didn’t know you were marked.”

They left as fast as they appeared.

Marked?

She lay there on the seats until the train hit the next station. It wasn’t her stop, but for modesty’s sake she’d try to pick herself up.

How was she marked, and why did they leave her alone?

Her blouse was ruined, and so was her bra, her right breast hung bare. There was little she could do to cover herself. It was obvious she’d been assaulted.

She mustered up the dignity she had left, to leave the train and enter the station. As late as it was, there should be people Melody would have to walk passed on the way home. As luck would have it, the subway station was empty save for a pair of police officers.

Melody approached them.

“Help me, please help me.”

Neither cop appeared to hear or even notice her standing there.

“I was attacked… On the train.”

Again, no response. Until the second cop turned and looked right at her.

“You must be new to this, so I’ll explain it to you. Good cop, bad cop.”

He gestured to his partner then himself.

“you have a mark, so good people…”

He waved his hand in front of his partners face.

“not going to notice, not that they would really care anyways.”

He brought his nightstick first to her exposed tit, then hooked it into her cunt.

“If not for xhamster your little mark, I’d be fucking your fat little ass right up against the wall right now. So why don’t you hurry on home now, some of the creatures of the night aren’t as respectful as I am.”

Then she saw it.

In the reflection of herself behind the cop, a birthmark above her right nipple.

A birthmark she had never had before.

A birthmark right where her Master drew the blood to fill the pen she used to sign the contract.

Not a mark, a symbol.

A symbol the color of blood.

She ran the rest of the way home. Locked her doors, and tore her ruined clothes off. She wasn’t afraid, she was aroused. In fact, through the whole ordeal, all she wanted to do was fuck and please every person she’d come across that night.

Her heart banged in her chest, her cunt throbbed.

In the mirror, she saw the mark more clearly. She clawed at her clit, and twisted her nipples brutally, she had to sate the lust that exploded within her.

It wasn’t enough.

Melody fled to her bedroom, fixating on the bed.

She positioned her cunt over the wooden bedpost embellishment, before fucking herself violently.

“Yes Master! Fuck your whore Master! Take me, use me. Fuck me!”

The bed shook and rattled, she was sure someone would complain. Someone always complained.

No one did.

Melody fucked herself to sleep and woke up the next morning with the bed knob still lodged inside her cunt. Her cum was everywhere, and yet nothing had satisfied her.

Her empty apartment, that had once been her happiest place seemed drab and lifeless.

How had she become a non-person?

She dressed for work, picking her sluttiest clothes.

They weren’t good enough now.

She took a detour on her way to work, stopping at stripper shops and S&M stores. Like everywhere else, most of the people failed to notice her. The ones that did, gave her a nod, or hurried around her.

She picked through the meager amounts of clothes in her sizes setting on bags of loot and toys that fit her new disposition, only to find that no one noticed her when she tried to pay.

“Hey! “

She yelled at the clerk, who was pocket jerking to the porn playing in the monitor.

“Just take it.”

A second clerk stood behind Melody.

She was thin, waifishly so. She pulled her tank top down to expose her bra less right tit, and the mark upon it, and winked at her from behind smoky eye makeup.

The clerk popped the security tabs off the clothes and gear, and dropped the security tool in the bag as well.

“You’ll need that. I’m Erika. Come back and visit, if you can’t manage to satisfy the cravings. Don’t be late. “

“Thank you.”

Melody said, completely aware of how bizarre her circumstances were.

She stole some hooker shoes she would have never otherwise worn. Looking at the time, she stole a scooter right out of the dealership because she liked the saddle bags and was going to be late to work.

Dressed in a fetishy school girl outfit, confident that no one could see her, she sped down the street and parked her scooter right in the lobby of the building.

“ma’am, you really ought to park that in the garage.”

Melody jumped as the security guard scared the daylights out of her. A security guard with a birthmark on his temple.

“I’ll move it for you today. Don’t be late.”

He said nothing about the way she was dressed. He didn’t even look at her twice.

How many people in the building could see her?

The elevator, although crowded, she went unnoticed, iskenderun escort and the hallways she went unchallenged.

Her workstation was gone.

In her place sat a young thin blond girl with smart modern eyeglasses and a short pencil skirt that showed off the seam on the back of her stockings.

“You’re sitting in my station. Hello?”

“She can’t hear you, Melody, not yet anyways.”

Her smiling boss was standing behind her, he moved without a sound, and yet he was still the least eerie thing about her day.

The color and sound, smells and textures came flooding back into her world. She was back in the presence of her Master.

“I suppose you have a few questions for me regarding what has happened to you since last night. Feel free to ask me, while we walk. Hold still.”

Deftly he adjusted her clothes, opening the buttons of her blouse, he put her tits on display. From his coat he produced a dogs collar and leash. He fit it around her neck, the black leather had a brand that matched the mark on her skin.

He clipped the leash to her collar, casually looping the leather over his wrist. He turned and walked. Melody had to trot to keep up with his long relaxed strides.

“Let me think,” he said, “why can’t everyone see me anymore? Well the answer is simple, you already were invisible to a great many people. Now that you have been made aware, the effect is just that more pronounced. Why do the people that do see me, see me? Well simple, those people are aware as well.”

He turned to her, stopping in front of a boardroom full of people, he kicked apart her feet, reaching down to finger her bare cunt.

“What is awareness? Well that is a little complicated. You are contractually aware, in selling your soul to me, you have bound yourself to me and my world for all eternity. The benefits are awareness, long life and health. The downside is, I am your world. I hold your soul. The further you are from me, you might have noticed, the less alive the world is. So stay close!”

His smile was beautiful.

His smile was terrifying.

“Other aware people will see your mark, and know you are owned. They should leave you alone.”

He walked into the boardroom, with Melody close behind.

“Thank you all, please excuse my tardiness, it was a staffing matter.” He paused, “Melody take your place under the table.”

She ducked her head under the head of the table in front of her boss, between the feet of more than a few of the board members were girls and at least one man, collared and sucking cock.

Melody turned as her Master sat down, His chair was modified to provide him comfort and her access as she unbuckled him and drew out the length of his cock.

The meeting above her forgotten, she worked his dick and balls, teasing his nut, allowing it to rise and fall. He gave her direction with his left hand turned in her hair.

She teased his piss hole with her tongue, and was able to engulf both his balls in her mouth. She felt them throb with his pulse, as she switched back to his cock. He filled her with his spunk, which she swallowed when he tapped her forehead, OK.

Not knowing what else to do, she nursed from his cock, and listened to the meeting.

The company bought and sold commodities.

Commodities which included, it seemed, human souls.

Her Master grabbed Melody by the collar and held her tight to His crotch, holding his thickening dick to the entrance of her throat.

His other hand reached for and held her nose shut.

He started to piss down her throat, and she had no choice but to swallow. eskişehir escort He had turned her into a human urinal.

Her tears flowed down her cheeks, but she kept her mouth sealed to his dick, lest the piss splash on the rug, or herself, or worse, her Master.

When he was finished, he released her nose, and allowed her to keep sucking. He unclipped her leash.

A red light under the table caught her attention.

The other whores under the table moved one light to the right.

“Move!” a tiny raven haired pixie, who was completely naked except for a collar and knee pads hissed in Melody’s direction.

Melody fumbled to her right, stopping at the knees of a woman in a short leather skirt. The woman clipped a leash to Melody’s collar.

The light under the table turned green.

Melody hesitated, and was rewarded with a cinching of her collar, choking her until she dove tongue first into the waiting pussy.

Above the glistening clit was a mark that matched her’s.

What the hell did it all mean?

She’d hadn’t eaten pussy in a good many years, and usually the favor was never returned, but Melody hadn’t forgotten how. She nuzzled the Board woman’s clit, and nibbled her pussy lips, choosing to build a slow orgasm. The older woman kicked off her heels, at first rubbing Melody’s cunt in return. Anxious, and her own orgasm building, Melody tongue fucked the woman tripping off her orgasm. As she was cumming the older woman choked Melody with the leash, and kicked her hard, repeatedly in the cunt before slipping her feet back into her heels.

Melody hurt with the ruined orgasm, and hurt more with the emotional turns of the day.

The light turned red, her collar unclipped, and she moved again to her right.

A huge black dick. She sucked and swallowed.

The light turned red, her collar unclipped, and she moved again to her right.

An older man with half a dozen piercings through his cock. She played with his flaccid member as if she was reading braille with her tongue.

The light turned red, her collar unclipped, and she moved again to her right.

A young woman who only chose to kick Melody in the tits and belly with her sharply pointed Italian leather shoes.

The meeting adjourned and the whores stayed clipped under the table.

“Hey, new girl-” the pixie hissed trying to get her attention. The dark haired girl had her make-up smeared, and cum in her left eye. “How did you manage to work for the chairman?”

“He was my boss…”

“He’s everybody’s boss.”

“I signed the paper…”

“Everyone signs the paper. Are you stupid, or is this your first day?” Melody hung her head, holding her arms to the fresh bruises that were just starting to show. “holy shit. It is your first day. I’m sorry. My name is Gwyneth.”

The other whores spoke up.

“John.”

“Brittany.”

“Paula.”

“Maria Marta.”

“Sinthia.”

“She calls me cunt.” A small chubby blond on the end.

“They’ll come for us soon, stay quiet and we’ll be collected soon. Sorry for the rough first day.”

The urine in her stomach mixed with all the seven, left her churning and unsettled. Twice during the kicking Melody had almost vomited.

One by one, the Masters retrieved their whores from beneath the table.

Only Melody and Gwyneth were left under the table.

“I really am sorry for being a dick, I just don’t want to be punished for being slow to service, especially to service the chairman.”

“I didn’t know we were supposed to switch places. He hasn’t told me much.”

“Come Gwyneth,”

The crisp cold voice of the woman that kicked the crap out of Melody sounded above.

“Quickly – I’ll never know why he allows those obese cunts in his presence, much less his bed. Do not talk with her again.”

Melody was alone under the table for at least ten minutes. Her tears flowed silently. It had been a rough morning.

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

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

This is just a non-erotic side story I made for the Adventure of Tash and John series. Just to give back story to the universe.

*****

March 28th, 2184 — 1300 Hours

Republic of Texas Carrier USS Houston – TXNC 16255

The room was a buzz of excitement. Corporal John Henry Baird sat in the large auditorium surrounded by the rest of the Republic of Texas Army’s 105th Airborne, first company. The room had probably warmed up a good five degrees since he had first entered. The USS Houston’s atmospheric controls seemed to be having trouble keeping up with the combined body heat of ninety or so paratroopers that filled the room.

Most of whom joked, laughed and chatted among themselves as they waited for the briefing to begin. As is right on queue, John saw the familiar stature of the companies commanding officer, Captain Adam Garcia, take the rooms center podium. The myriad of chatter started to diminish as the Captain, an older and tanned skinned man, loudly cleared his throat into the podiums microphone.

“Gentlemen,” He began, waiting for the chatter to subside before continuing. “At oh-nine-fortyfive hours yesterday the Commonwealth naval vessel HMS Indomitable detected a mass of unknown activity on this planet,” the Captain tapped a small series of keys on the podiums touch pad and the image of a solar system filled the large LED screen behind him.

The image circled in red the third planet in the small five planet system, designating it ‘S-42396-3’. “Ess four-two-three-nine-six dash three. Initial examination detected reactor signatures consistent with drive cores used by Breten Hvas affiliated pirate clans.”

The image shifted again. This time to a colored satellite view of a region on the planets surface. The image was high altitude but John could make out what looked like buildings buried half inside a small rock outcropping.

“High altitude recon drone passes were able to locate and determine the energy signatures originating from this point” Captain Garcia continued.

The area that John had thought to be buildings was now being highlighted. The satellite view began to zoom in.

“Further analysis has confirmed that this is indeed some kind of outpost operated by a Breten Hvas affiliated gang.”

The image pulled up a marking on one of the containers outside the outpost, showing clearly the scribbled hieroglyphs of the Breten Hvas insignia. The briefing screen once again pulled up an image. This time of one of the Breten Hvas guards. John thought they looked like somewhere in between a cross of a bird and a mantis. A small beak protruded from a rounded skull which housed four eyes.

Continuing down the neck met the body not unlike a praying mantis from earth. It had two long arms that ended with an almost sword like point. Each arm having about five fingers at the end for manipulation. The whole thing stood on four legs, but was however only about four feet tall altogether. It was a slim and apex hunter like frame. It was certainly alien to John. He snapped back to reality as Captain Garcia began again.

“Repeated drone passes have been able to determine their forces strength at about one hundred-fifty give or take. Ground penetrating radar has the whole complex only about two hundred meters into the rock face. Any questions so far?” Captain Garcia asked the room.

“Yeah” a voice chimed up. John really wasn’t able to see who was speaking. “Why don’t we just nuke ’em from orbit and be done with it?”

A smile crept along Garcia’s face almost as if he had been anticipating this question.

“Because,” The screen shifted to a different version of the recon photo and highlighted a new part of the image. It brought up a xeno, definitely not the Siven that made up the vast majority of the Breten Hvas slaver clans.

This one was tall and lanky. Its homeworld must likely be low G, John thought. It sported gray-brown skin, about four arms and four legs with a head that seemed to be on a swivel. John didn’t recognize it in the slightest. “They have hostages.”

John could hear most of his comrades stiffen. Hostages meant no nukes. No nukes meant ground operation. And that operation would be a rescue operation. Captain Garcia continued after a slight pause.

“We have no official estimate as to how many hostages they have. But at the end of the day it has been decided by the higher ups that they do not get to keep them.”

Fucking slavers, John thought. Slavery was already a black mark in Earth history, wars had been fought over it. Just as Humanity as a whole thought they had overcome their past, the New Holland Incident had reopened those long thought closed wounds. The sacrifice of the HMS Battleaxe was the first, and only, tipping point that Humanity had needed to declare and intergalactic war on slavery.

“Which brings us to defenses.” Garcia continued again, shifting the image to a more tactical overlay of the recon photo. “First analysis shows the main building complex to be lightly denizli escort fortified. There appear to be two watch towers built into the rock face on opposite sides of the main building.” The image enhanced to display them. They really were no more than a couple of domed walkways jetting out of the rock. The Hvas also appeared to have set up heavy guns of some kind in each tower. The image was shifted again.

“The enemy has also erected three medium sized bunkers facing each direction away from the rock face, encompassing the landing pad and main courtyard area of the outpost.” The image enhanced for a final time. “Recon has also determined the presence of at least two assumed anti-air positions within the outpost perimeter. Comparison with similar known emplacement shows this model as being an inner atmosphere weapon with a limited range. So high altitude flights will be well out of their reach.”

A hand popped up in the crowd. John recognized him as one of the newer recruits from second platoon. A Felix something-or-other. Captain Garcia motioned for him to speak.

“Do we know what the effective range is?” The man asked.

It was a solid question. They may not have been fly boys but they most certainly did their share of flying. It would be helpful as well if the Hvas decided to turn them groundwards as well.

“The gun shoots a canister that explodes at about fifteen hundred meters. They may have modified it. The canister explodes into a copper-tungsten shrapnel mix so keep an eye on your surroundings, I don’t want anyone getting hit by these things. Any other questions?” Captain Garcia asked.

The room was silent. After a few moments Captain Garcia tapped the podiums touch pad again, bringing up another overlay.

“Alright then, on to operational deployment.” The man said, continuing his previous formalized tone. “This is going to be a join Coalition Op.” Some groans could be heard from the troopers. Captain Garcia ignored them and continued. “Right now we are heading to rendezvous with Commonwealth ship HMS Irwin and Union ship USS Jefferson where we will be taking on troops from ANZAC’s Fifth Marine Expeditionary Force and US Army’s Twentieth Light Mechanized Infantry. The game plan is as follows.”

A region of the image became highlighted. “One hundred-fifth Airborne will insert via orbital drop at this location, five K south of the outpost. First Company will then proceed along this route to this elevated point two K from the outpost and establish a Forward Operating Base for our Forward Air Controllers. Once that is set Second and Third platoons will move southwest until they rendezvous with Fifth Marines. A detachment of Fifth Marines will have already linked up with the Twentieth Mechanized in the east. The main assault will begin once all units are set and Forward Air Control has confirmed and marked the enemy bunkers and anti-air.

“JDAMS will be dropped from orbiting A-100’s who will provide close air support as needed. Operational objectives are to neutralize all threats and retrieve the hostages. ROE’s are the same as normal, no firing on civilians unless they fire on you first, everything else is fair game. Questions?” The room was silent once again. “Alright, your platoon leads have all the necessary information. Get with them if you need to. Dismissed.”

With that, First Company stood and began filing out of the auditorium. Not long after leaving John felt a pair of hands on his shoulders. He turned to see his squad mates Johan Washington and Neal Ford flanking him.

“No rest for the wicked, huh?” Johan said as he gave John a firm smack on the back.

“Fuckin’ Aussies though man.” Neal chirped in before John could speak. “They’re always ‘Fuckin Cunt’ this and ‘Fuckin Noice’ that. Why don’t we just use the marine detachment here on the Houston?”

“Politics.” John was finally able to get in. “A Commonwealth ship found the place so they want ANZAC there to represent. Besides the grunts here are trained for ship to ship, not foot to ground.”

This comment produced a small laugh from Neal.

“Don’t want to get their precious gear all dirty. Oorah, huh?” Neal said as he made a mock marine style salute.

It was Johan’s turn to laugh this time.

“Well at least the Yankee’s you can understand. Similar history and all that,”

The group continued down the hall eventually turning into the common room that was set aside for the 105th. The room was filled with the indistinct chatter of his fellow paratroopers. John took a quick look around the room. There were a couple of new faces among the crowd.

New transfers, John thought. Such was life in the military. A sharp whistle followed by a yell caught his attention. John looked over to see his squad leader, Sergeant Robert Miller, beckoning him over. Johan, John and Neal quickly jogged over to meet him.

“What’s up sarge?” Neal inquired.

“Deployment assignments.” Sergeant Miller responded, iskenderun escort handing each of them a tablet. “We’ll be moving with the rest of First Platoon to meet up with the Aussies after they establish Forward Air Control.”

John studied the pad. It had a location map with a GPS along with several general equipment and movement orders. That was when something caught his eye.

“I see we’re using standard equipment, no hardsuits. The planets atmosphere is breathable?” John asked.

“Yeah it seems that way.” Miller replied. “Intel says the planet had a terraforming project that went belly up about a century ago. Instead of packing up some alien bigwig decided it would be more cost effective to just leave everything half finished. Atmosphere has grown pretty decent in that time. Oxygen value is about seventy per cent that of Earth at point-eight gee. Much higher nitrogen values to C-O-Two, but such is the stuff of life. I think Intel said there are some very basic moss and lichen growing in patches on the surface.”

“Planet should be a nice vacation spot in about three million years then.” Neal said grinning.

“Don’t reserve your condo just yet Ford.” Miller said. “We still have to evict some deadbeats.”

This produced a smirk from all three paratroopers.

“Deployment is at oh-six-hundred tomorrow.” Miller said. “Get some chow and some rest and be geared up and in the bay by oh-four-hundred. I got to go round up the rest of you. Dismissed.”

All three men gave a crisp salute and turned to leave the common room. John slipped the tablet into one of his uniforms side pockets and adjusted his patrol hat.

“So… Mess hall?” Neal asked pointing his fingers in the general direction.

John gave a sweeping hand motion that said ‘lead on’ and followed Neal and Johan down the corridor. The corridor was just as busy as it always was at this time. It was centered firmly inside the ‘Ground Pounders’ area of the ship. All that meant was that this hallway was the main access point to the barracks for the 105th and ship board marine detachment. There was also room for another unit and a half if need be. The armory and flight deck also had access points from this corridor.

The whole area was only slightly more full than normal. Marines and Troopers mingling in groups among themselves. A couple of naval crewmen in their recognizable navy blue and gray uniforms shuffled cautiously between the groups of ground pounders. Obviously trying not to attract attention. It wasn’t uncommon to see crew from the Houston in this area, but as a general rule the regular naval crew tended to stay away.

Too much testosterone and bravado packed into a small tin can dulls the brain, they would say. John wasn’t sure about the brain drain part, but there was something about being inside a vacuumed sealed titanium can. John had grown up under blue skies and warm light on Earth. The artificial lighting on board the Houston was just that, lighting. Not to mention the gravity. Artificial gravity, while a close approximation, had it’s quirks.

It probably didn’t help that it was a relatively new technology as well. Occasionally you would find yourself walking down a corridor, minding your own business in the standard 1 G when suddenly everything is lighter or worse, heavier. If you were really unlucky there wouldn’t be anything at all. Zero G in a line across the hallway.

Of course you can’t see it until you are in it, and by that time it’s already too late. It had happened to John a few times. He would be minding his own business when suddenly he could feel himself in a line of Zero G. Usually the area effected was small, maybe a little less than half a meter. But it was still enough to cause your body’s momentum to shift you forwards. At best it would trip you up, at worse it would cause you to fall flat on your face.

There was no sense in reporting it. The engineering teams would already know about it anyways. Anytime there was so much as a hiccup in the ships power network, a dozen different alarms would be going off to the engineers. Such is the necessity of redundancy. Fortunately John hadn’t hit any Zero G pockets in quite some time. Could be that they were finally starting to get the system down.

The three Troopers arrived at the mess hall without much delay. It was a fairly massive room which could probably seat about 200 people at capacity. And by the look of it, it was getting pretty close. John and his squadmates grabbed some empty trays and got in line for the dispensers. The wait wasn’t that long and before they knew it they were filling their trays with protein in all the flavors of the rainbow.

They had fake Spaghetti, fake chicken, fake beans… and oh hey, fake peach juice. John decided to indulge himself and grabbed some fake spaghetti with fake meatballs over fake sauce, some actual real toast, to his surprise, and a glass of peach juice. His comrades had already finished xnxx porno and were waving him over to their table.

Neal and Johan were already sitting with a couple of other troopers from his unit. John recognized some of them. Alfie Kenzington from First Platoon Bravo Squad, Romeo Garcia also First Platoon Bravo squad, and finally Sonja Ramirez from Second Platoon. John didn’t know which squad she was from, but it didn’t really matter.

Sonja was one of only five women in all of the 105th, and strictly off limits, as their commander liked to remind them. That was fine though, she wasn’t really John’s type anyways. It wasn’t that she wasn’t attractive, it was that she was one of them. A… sister-in-arms, and you don’t do things like that with your sister.

“So what’d ya get?” Neal asked as John sat down next to him and Alfie.

“Faketti and pseudo-meatballs.” John replied, feigning enthusiasm.

“Ah faketti, classic. Went with Faked Beans myself.” Neal said, picking up a spoonful and shoving it in his mouth. “Really ish the besht kind of protein.” He said, not bothering to swallow.

“Shut the fuck up Ford and eat your food! Didn’t your mother teach you any manners?” John could hear Romeo say.

“Nah, she was too busy fuckin every guy who gave her a compliment. No time for teachin’ the younguns when you have dicks to suck.” Neal replied, shoving another spoonful in his mouth.

“Your family’s fucked up man.” Romeo said more as a general statement than anything else.

“That’s why I got you guys right? To keep me on the straight and narrow.” Neal said while putting his arms around both John and Johan shoulders, pulling them close to him.

“Yeah, just don’t ask me to suck your dick.” Romeo fired back once more.

“I wouldn’t worry about it Garcia, you ain’t got those dick sucking lips.” John could hear Johan say.

Neal just shrugged and looked down towards Sonja. “Ramirez?” He asked coyly.

“Fuck off Ford.” His reply came. “Not in your wildest dreams.”

“Eh… at least I got my beans.” Neal said, shoving another mouthful and chewing loudly.

John started to dig into his own meal. The ‘faketti’ looked about the same as it tasted. Like bland wet noodles in a bland sauce with something that might pass for meat. Not fantastic but you took what you could get when you were out in space.

Besides, the nutritional guides assured him that it had all the necessary protein, vitamins and fiber that his diet required. He guessed there was no accounting for taste. The toast was good though.

“So I heard the Aussies are on board.” Alfie said, breaking the short silent between the troopers. “They’re down in the deployment bay with the Yanks.”

“Mmm,” Sonja sighed contently. “I think I might try to pick me up a kiwi. Those accents of theirs makes me wet.”

“Oh god Ramirez, I don’t want to hear that!” John said, fork mid lift to his mouth.

“I do.” Neal perked up. “Keep going.”

Johan promptly gave Neal a punch in the shoulder, followed by a very curt ‘ow’ from him.

“So where are they bunking anyways?” Romeo asked, attempting to steer the conversation away.

“I dunno. I think just on the floor of the deployment bay.” Alfie responded. “I don’t think they saw a point of putting them up in the barracks since they are just going to be leaving tomorrow anyways.”

“Alright!” Said Neal enthusiastically. “Camp out in the deployment bay! I’ll bring the marshmallows. Won’t be able to light a fire but there should be enough heat coming from between Ramirez’s thighs that it shouldn’t be a problem.”

This caused another punch in the shoulder from Johan.

“Goddamn Ford, do you come with an off switch?” Romeo said as a chuckle escaped his lips.

“Haven’t been able to find one yet, Sarge.” Neal replied giving a big contented grin.

“Ya’ll are just jealous I’m going to get laid tonight.” Sonja said, picking up her tray and heading towards the recycler.

“Just don’t get pregnant before drop time!” Neal began to yell as Sonja walked away, flipping him off as she went. “Orbital drops aren’t good for babies! Also remember to wrap it before you tap it! And you can’t get pregnant if it’s in your throat! Ow! Fucker! That one actually hurt.” Johan had punched him in the shoulder again, causing Neal to rub the assailed area profusely.

“You’re going to get yourself in trouble one of these days.” John said, giving him a punch on his shoulder as well for good measure.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s all fun and games until you get stuck with a sexual harassment suit. You sound like my guidance councilor..”

John just shook his head. “She sounds like a reasonable lady, you should have listened to her.”

“It was a him actually.” Neal decided to point out, obviously ignoring the hint that he should shut up. “Very feminine and flamboyant. I think he was gay.”

“Anyways,” Romeo said once again attempting to change the subject. “What’s up with these Aussies? I overheard that the Commonwealth insisted they be on the operation. What are they, some kind of Aussie space marine badasses?”

“Nah.” Alfie replied, chewing through a piece of toast. “Apparently they have experience with similar raids on outposts used by the Hvas. Mostly in ‘asset retrieval’.” Alfie said with air quotes.

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

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

Author’s Note: WARNING!!! Before reading on please be aware of the following: This story contains lesbian sex, witchcraft, body alterations via magic, breast expansion, and pregnancy of the breasts. If this is a turn off to you in anyway, do not read on. If you find this appealing, read on and please leave feedback. Enjoy.

*

She was just trying to have some fun with them. Most witches had become so dull and boring in the past century, though it was understandable, considering the frequent hunts. However, to Vala, it didn’t seem like a good enough excuse to shut oneself inside a cavern for the rest of their lives. But that was just what had been done, and for longer than she cared to remember, she had been a part of this. Then she had played one little prank, trying to use magic on a fellow coven member for some fun of the sexual variety, and now here she was. Many of the witches looked on her in sorrow as she was forced to leave.

It would do no good to fight against it. Vala knew the decision was final. The Elder had made it after all, even if it had been at the behest of Vala’s target. It made no difference that the defendant was in line to take the place as Elder of the coven, nor that she was possibly the most powerful witch in the past century. She had given into her base desires, something far from desirable in an Elder, as such that right had been stripped away from her. And now, without such a promising future to protect her, she was exiled.

They didn’t simply look at her for the fact that one of their own was leaving. It was the fact that she was being forced into the realm of humans, a place where a witch couldn’t possibly survive, at least that’s what they believed given the numerous hunts. Vala however, already had a contingency plan for such an occasion. For weeks now, she had been sneaking out of the coven to mingle among the mortals, thus giving her a place to be, though she couldn’t reveal her abilities without being hunted, of that she was certain. However, enough time had passed and she was on mostly friendly terms with the nearby village.

Although it might have been easier if the coven had adhered to tradition. Vala looked down at her hands, the skin flawless despite many people’s interpretation about witches, and summoned a small amount of her magical power. Between her fingertips sparks began to fly, before she cut it off. Ordinarily, a witch that was removed from her coven lost all magical power, however times had changed and they felt it no longer wise to do so. If only to give the fallen witch a fighting chance against the brutish humans.

As such, Vala was able to keep all of her abilities. She had no intention of using it to defend herself, unless absolutely necessary, however it would no doubt come to her assistance in the coming days and weeks. As she neared the village, Vala spied a single figure moving towards her. It was heavily covered in clothing, with a long scarf of sorts flailing in the air behind it, even so the exiled witch could tell it was a female. The woman came closer until Vala could clearly make out her face, particularly the faint mark on her cheek.

“I never expected another witch to be out here.” She said in greeting. The other witch grinned tightly. Vala could now she had a large shawl over her head and chest, with her lips barely on display.

“It’s not that hard when you can barely summon a small gust of wind.” She replied, her voice bitter. Vala gave her a sympathetic look.

“So you were exiled as well.” She stated.

“Yes,” The other witch answered anyway, “My name is Rala, and I was wondering if you could help me.” Rala removed her shawl, revealing her aged appearance to Vala, who let out a gasp of shock. It wasn’t at her technical sister’s age, but rather at the young child Rala held against her chest. Vala could tell at a glance that the small child was Rala’s own.

“It’s yours? But… but how?” Among the witches it was forbidden to sleep with a human male, an offense punishable by death or exile if discovered. It had even reached the point that, when a witch takes an apprentice, they are taught that sleeping with a man would result in total loss of their magic, something that was almost as important to a witch as their very lives.

Rala looked down at her child, smiling slightly.

“I’ve never laid with a man” She told Vala, who’s eyes widened at this.

“Then how?” She asked, curious as to how a witch could conceive without a man’s sperm. Vala was studious, having learnt quickly from her teacher, and further her own education after that. She was prideful in the fact that she had read every book her coven had to offer. Rala grinned at her sister.

“If you help me get my magic back, I’ll give you a very rare book of spells.” Rala knew she was successful in luring the other witch in, having guessed correctly by the strength of her magical power she had displayed, that Vala was a knowledge hungry witch.

“I don’t know… that turk porno would be against the rules of the coven.” She said automatically.

“That may be so, but you no longer belong to a coven, do you?” Rala reminded Vala, who grinned like a young girl caught stealing sweets.

“Well then, let’s get started.” Vala directed her elder to a nearby rock, where she sat and began chanting under her breath in low murmurs. Rala was surprised at how easily Vala was able to cast the spell, something that required six hours to cast by the Elder of a coven at the very least, and yet the young witch, barely past twenty years of age, was almost finished within less than half that time. It was noon when Vala had begun, completing it just as the sun began its slow descent.

“Done.” She said with a grin. Rala looked at her in disbelief, before raising a finger and summoned a small spark of power, something that had been exceptionally difficult for her since her exile, but now as easy as flexing a muscle. Testing it again, she summoned a small breeze to cool herself in the warming spring weather.

“I can’t believe it. You must have been on the verge of being made Elder.” She stated in shock, to which Vala shrugged.

“I didn’t desire such a position, after all who would enjoy so much responsibility?” She said, chuckling as she stood, “Now, where is my payment?” Rala quickly reached into a satchel at her side and pulled out a book, bound in a worn out leather. As Vala turned it onto its front to read the title, her empowered sister was already heading back to her town. Vala blinked at the name, reading it aloud to make sure she was reading it correctly.

“‘Spells of Carnal Desires’.” It was a spell book she had never heard of, and Vala was almost certain that she had read up on all of them, even if she had never actually read them all herself. Naturally curious, Vala opened the book to its first page, where she immediately read a couple of lines, before shutting the book. A grin, albeit one born partially from embarrassment, on her face. It was very interesting to say the least.

After putting the book into a satchel she had left with, Vala headed to her destination. The town wasn’t far from the home of her coven, less than half a day’s walk, but it was less for a witch. Many would believe that witches were only adept at magic, however many are exceptionally fit. While Vala was remarkable in her ability to cast spells, she made certain not to neglect her body, which reaped the benefit of her daily exercises. As she jogged along the path, Vala couldn’t help but think of her own body.

It was hard not to. Her movements caused her breasts to bounce wildly, not that she felt any discomfort, having cast a lifelong spell for such purposes. They were magnificent, if she did say so herself, their shape perfect for being cupped, though their size was too much for a single hand to hold. Not that it would matter, since many witches practiced abstinence from sexual activities, with themselves or each other. Vala was rare among her sisters for being sexually promiscuous.

Her waist was thin and well kept. She didn’t have a need for a corset, as many human women did, since her breasts sat on her chest proudly. Her hips flared nicely, ideal for birthing, something that could possibly happen if she mastered her new spell book. Vala’s rear was perfectly shaped, the cheeks rounded and firm to the eye, however, as she would gladly tell, they were soft to the touch. On some days, when she had felt particularly lonesome in the coven, Vala wished she could clone herself.

Sadly, even with her great magical power, that was a thing of fantasy. She sighed and slowed down slightly, the fencing of a local farm coming into view. Vala knew her new home was close by, having chosen its location based upon its proximity to the farm and towns. She would be able to assist the farmers in exchange for food, at least she hoped so, and head into the town for anything else she might require. The times she had ventured this far, it had been dark, with most of the humans being inside. Now however, she was out before nightfall.

Vala walked along the path. She had no intention of looking around, already aware of the area and the animals that occupied the farmland, but her gaze was soon captivated by something of great interest. Walking back from a barn, was a young woman, clearly a maiden. She was carrying a pail of sloshing fluid, most likely milk. Her body was covered in a long dress, though one covered in holes and dirt marks. Vala assumed it was the nicest thing the farm girl owned.

It was an uncommon sight for many at that time. To see a girl, one of suitable marrying age at that, doing the work most would leave to men. She ignored the jeers many would throw in her direction, focusing on the job at hand. Vala found herself staring, even wandering to the fencing to get a closer look. The young woman noticed and put the pail down, heading sikis izle over to see what she needed.

“Hello, madam. Can I help you?” With such a close up view, Vala had to gulp. The woman, while not the most elegant or beautiful lady in the land, was far from ugly. Her nose was small and situated well on her face, above it her oak green eyes all but shone with life, while her lips were full if somewhat colourless.

“Madam?” The woman repeated, bringing Vala back to reality.

“Hmm, oh yes, I’m sorry. I am new to this place.” The woman smiled slightly.

“And you’re not accustomed to seeing a woman doing a man’s job, I assume?” Vala looked away and grinned a little.

“I would not say that, where I’m from, the women do most of the work. But it is rare for someone as beautiful as yourself to be doing this.” Vala said. The woman blushes and looks away bashfully.

“Thank you, madam.”

“Please, call me Vala.” She said, raising a hand, which the woman soon took.

“O-okay, Vala. You can call me Daisy, if you would like?” Vala grinned and shook Daisy’s hand.

“Yes, I would like to. Well, I must be off. My new home awaits.” She said in parting, taking one last, proper, look over her new friend’s body. Daisy’s body was toned from her daily work, with slender arms and a lithe build, however the fat that was on her body was taken in the right places. This gave the farm girl slight, but fitting, curves to her toned form. Vala unconsciously licked her lips as she turned away.

“Stop by if you need anything, Vala. My family is always eager to help newcomers.” Daisy called as she left. Vala waved at her new friend, while her mind journeyed back to her new possession. The book was true to its name, assuming the opening lines were to be believed. She knew not to bring it into the open on the road, since it was bound in leather, an expensive luxury at that time. Being mugged was extremely low on Vala’s list.

Eventually, she left the farmland. She came to a fork in the path, however she was already familiar with the way to go, taking the direction away from the town. A short time later, she saw a small house coming into view. It was more of a cabin, built from high quality wood, with a single window facing in her direction. A fire was already lit, the chimney sending smoke into the air. Vala couldn’t help but grin to herself, having built the structure herself, granted she had used magic. It was still somewhat impressive for her first attempt.

Inside she sighed happily. It was warm, a nice contrast to the growing chill of the outside. A fire burned in the fireplace, casting its warmth about, eager to share. It had been a simple matter to enchant home so that the fire would light when she came within a set distance. As previously mentioned, the home was small, the opening room comprising much of the space. In front of the fireplace sat a comfortable chair, which Vala had conjured herself, while she had a modest kitchen. A single oven and sink.

If Vala had desired, she could have lived in castle. However, she chose such humble abode for two key reasons; the first being that it was small, but cosy. The fire warming the home quickly. The second was her desire to be as inconspicuous as possible, especially within the vicinity of humans. She had another floor above her, where her bed awaited her until needed. With the protection of her home, Vala sat in her chair, sighing happily as she all but sank into the soft seat. She took off her cloak and satchel.

She quickly opened it up and pulled out her new book. It was large, with several hundred pages, each filled to the brim with all new material for Vala to learn. She ran her hand over the cover, almost disbelieving that such a book existed, however she was glad it did. Vala waved a hand, a mug appearing from thin air, while an invisible bottle poured her some cider. She took the mug and sipped at it, before putting it back and opening the book once more. Throughout the night, she poured over the spells and descriptions.

When the morning came, Vala found herself asleep in the chair. The book was open on her lap, with papers littered about with her personal notes. Many of the spells were actually very simplistic, often changing a word or two in existing spells to make them sexual in nature, however Vala was eager to change that. Within a single evening, she had created far stronger versions of the spells she had learned thus far.

Something she had come to notice is how the book was clearly written by different people. It was certainly a curious discovery, to find that several witches had clearly been like her and desired sexual contact, though many were perverted on a scale Vala had only dreamed of. For instance, a spell claimed to alter the body, causing the target to grow phallic appendages from their back. They would be exceptionally long and prehensile, almost like an octopuses tentacles. Vala was curious as to what that porna would be like, however she would wait for such a large alteration.

She had reached the middle of the book when she had fallen asleep. She yawned and looked down at it, instantly seeing that all of the spells were centred on breasts in one form or another. Each of them focusing on enhancements, whether it was to make them bigger, perkier, or to produce more milk for a child. Vala looked down at her own chest. Her bust was already larger than most, however she couldn’t deny a small desire for them to be bigger, but it could wait. She would make these spells her own before using any of them.

She wasn’t sure how long it would take, however she was patient. Although, she found herself distracted at that time. It was the morning, Daisy would no doubt be out working at that time. It was strange to Vala. She felt a desire for the girl that she had never felt before. Even in her coven, where she had seen many a beautiful women, they didn’t capture her attention like Daisy had. Maybe it was the way she carried herself? Confident, strong, but also tender. Or perhaps it was something else.

Unable to come to a conclusion, Vala stood. Another visit may help her, besides she needed to introduce herself to her neighbours. Back on the path, she soon saw the farm come into view, and there, working on the fields, was Daisy. Vala could hardly keep her eyes from her. Daisy was little more than a faint figure in the distance, but Vala was certain of who it was, as such she approached. The farm had a gate, on which a bell was rigged to go off at the time that someone opened it.

The young witch did just that. Almost before she could close it, a fairly young couple walked up to her from the farm house. Vala could tell quickly that they were Daisy’s parents. They were visibly young though, appearing to barely be past the age of thirty each, though it was probably just her imagination. Ignoring their young appearance, Vala introduced herself.

“Hello, my name is Vala. I just arrived in town and I was wondering if I could help on your farm?” The couple frowned at this.

“You sure? A pretty young lady like yourself shouldn’t need to work for a living.” The mother stated, looking Vala up and down, a brief flash of jealousy in her eyes. The witch gave a small smile.

“Believe me, I’ve heard it many times before. I would prefer to work for myself, better than being forced to please a husband or act as something for filth to gander at.” She explained, letting a small amount of venom seep into her tone when she mentioned the words ‘husband’ and ‘filth’. She had no real hatred towards them, however she chose the way she spoke carefully, knowing the couple would most likely feel sympathy towards her. It worked as she had expected.

The two shared a brief look.

“Well, Daisy has been doing much of the hard labour,” The mother said, resting a hand on her husband’s back, looking slightly worried. If Vala had to guess, she would say that he had suffered a severe injury some time ago, making him unable to do much work.

“But we can’t pay very well.” He said, to which Vala grinned and shook her head.

“No payment needed. All I ask is maybe some food to take home?” She said. With only a brief moment of hesitation, the father nodded.

“Okay, I’ll get you some work clothes, I think Daisy’s spares will fit.” He said and left to get them. Just then, Daisy walked up and smiled slightly, recognising Vala.

“Oh, hello again, Vala.” The witch nearly sighed at the sound of the voice. While Daisy’s parents tone was somewhat rough, sounding much how one would expect a farmer to sound, however Daisy spoke softly, though her voice was clear and projected well. It was a stark contrast and one that served to highlight how ill-suited she seemed for farm work.

“Hello, Daisy.” Vala said simply, not trusting herself. Daisy gave another small grin, before heading into the house. Her father returned soon after, with a tattered dress, one even worse off than what Daisy had worn yesterday. Vala took it gladly however and left to change. In short time she was joining Daisy on her usual day of chores and other laborious deeds.

“I have to admit, I didn’t think you would tolerate this much work.” Daisy noted, the two sitting on a small blanket and eating their lunch.

“Like I said, where I’m from, the women do most of the work.” Vala laughed, trying to keep her eyes from Daisy, who gave a small smirk in response. As the day wore on, the witch found herself enjoying Daisy’s company more and more. The maiden was kind and soft spoken, however she could also be boisterous and funny when the mood was right.

“Daisy?” Vala asked as they shovelled hay in the barn.

“Yes?”

“Have you ever, um, had urges for women?” She asked, looking away shyly.

“Of course not, two women can’t bear children.” Daisy answered instantly, remembering the teachings her parents had instilled in her since she was a young girl.

“Of course, but… say they could? What about then?” Vala asked, recalling the book. It was delightfully perverted after all, she had no doubts it would have some way to do the impossible. Daisy simply laughed at this.

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The mood was good tonight at The Market. The crowd was obviously in sync, the music algorithms managing a nice call and response with our collective biometrics. On the dance floor, flashing bodies rose and fell as one, like technicolor waves under strobe lights. I was feeling a bit giddy, the lights and the beat and my soul all wound up in a dreamy feedback loop. I’d resisted jacking in to the club’s system for the longest time, not wanting to be manipulated, but it really was better this way. Better than being a passenger on someone else’s trip.

The guy returned to the table with our drinks. I tried to remember his name. John? Jude? It had been hard to hear over the music. I glanced at my phone again. Josh. Thank goodness we’d done a basic sync before he went to the bar.

I had his basic information and he had mine. Name, age, links to various public profiles. I knew that he had taken his time away to do a quick scan of me, just as I’d done with him.

He smiled as he slid a martini across to me. I removed the security foil. With the lights in the place, I couldn’t be sure of the color of the drink, but it didn’t matter.

Josh grinned, flashing me his dimples. Sweaty strands of hair hung in front of his gray eyes. We’d bumped into each other on the dance floor, literally, and something just clicked, like in the movies. A connection. An understanding. There was something of the rogue about him, but tonight, it seemed that he was to be my rogue.

Given the volume of the music, conversation was minimal, but it was enough to bolster the initial attraction.

It was getting late. Over the last half hour or so, the music had become somehow more sensuous. I hadn’t noticed the shift. The beat slowed and lovely undulating strains of synth wove in and out of the percussion. I could detect a woman’s gasps and moans just beneath the synth. Subtle, but unmistakable. Maybe it was just me. Maybe I was horny, feeding the music, or maybe the music was feeding me. Either way, it didn’t matter. I was glad to be jacked in finally, reassured that others were feeling the same way I did. I wondered how many of us would be doing the same thing in an hour or two.

Josh seemed amused and possibly a little smitten as he watched me swaying to the beat, moving my shoulders, knowing in doing so that he was getting an eyeful of my chest. I wondered whether his mood was represented in the atmosphere too. I hoped so. I looked for his phone to see whether it was transmitting, but it was face-down on the table.

He smiled again. He really did have lovely dimples. For him at least, the denouement of the night was a foregone conclusion. Or maybe it was just hope. I wasn’t as sure, but I was getting surer by the minute. A lot was up to Chaperon.

He held out his hand, and I took it. We were soon on the dance floor again, pasted against each other. I felt his hardness when I not so accidentally brushed against him, so I did it again, just to be sure. As we moved, I knew that my arousal was commensurate. I draped my arms lazily over his shoulders and leaned my head against his chest. He smelled nice. A hint of cologne beneath the scent of man. Better than the other way around.

His hands rested on the small of my back. I wished they would venture lower, but wishing didn’t make it so. We didn’t know each other’s limits yet, so I appreciated his restraint. I took a chance and moved my hips to see whether his hands would succumb to gravity, but they didn’t. If anything, Josh had good manners. There was an order to things these days.

The night was winding down when we returned to our seats. He ordered us another drink from a passing waitress. It was then that I noticed his phone on the table, face up this time. A beating red heart flashed on the screen. Like everyone these days, he had Chaperon. I’d resisted for the longest time until a hookup went bad. Since then, Chaperon had proved its worth, filtering out those whose fetishes outpaced mine, providing a level of security when I wanted to go for it.

Josh looked so puppy dog hopeful when he glanced between his phone and me that I had to laugh. If it was a look that he practiced in the mirror, he needn’t have bothered. I was already convinced. I set my phone next to his and tapped the display. A heart appeared on my screen as well and we both swiped our respective displays, almost in unison. We both peered at the results.

“Phew,” he said.

“87 percent compatibility,” I read.

“Pretty good.”

“Yeah.”

We looked at each other. 87 percent was better than average for a hookup. I’d never done anything with anyone below 75 percent. It was remarkable how often even a small incompatibility could grow large when the clothes were off.

“I think we’re safe. Shall we?” I asked.

He looked relieved. “I live a few blocks away. Is that okay for you?”

“Great,” I said, remembering what a mess I’d left my bedroom in. “Your place it is.”

We held hands on the way to his place. It was chirie auto cute. Reassuring and familiar. Almost more intimate than what we would surely be doing soon. We chatted, and I learned that he was in tech, like just about everyone these days. He lived alone, was recently single for reasons he didn’t divulge, had a goldfish. I also learned that he did parkour, which explained his fitness.

I liked him. To my friends, he would qualify as a trout, which was their way of saying a nice catch. I thought so too, which was why I was throwing caution to the wind and heading to his place instead of the more prudent kiss and hope for a call.

At any other time, the late night gloom and the empty streets would have made me nervous. Josh made me feel safe if I didn’t think about how easily we could be outnumbered.

Once he closed the door behind us, I turned to him. “I don’t normally do this kind of thing,” I said. “Go to a strange guy’s house, I mean.”

“Neither do I. And I don’t think I’m all that strange.”

Dimples again. I could get used to looking at those. “Really?”

“Really.” With that, he kissed me on the forehead, which struck me as odd and sweet at the same time. “Can I get you something?”

“Water, please.”

He brought me a bottle and uncapped in front of me. He was considerate, if anything. Not that I was worried about getting roofied at this point; we both knew where this was going. Besides, Chaperon wouldn’t have given him the seal of approval if he had a history of that kind of thing.

The segue from expectation to passion is often the most awkward part. I needn’t have worried. He sat next to me and traced the line of my jaw with his fingertip, gazing at me intently. My face followed the direction of his touch and we were soon kissing, tentatively at first, and then as though our lives depended on it. Where had this hunger come from? Weird how it could go from tentative to blazing in seconds.

“Come,” he said. He held out his hand. I took it and followed him to the bedroom.

It was real. It was going to happen. There was no discussion, no negotiation. I guess it wasn’t necessary. I didn’t feel nervous about it. Not really.

Before things got going, we both took a moment to position our phones. He set his on the bedside table, leaning it against a lamp. I wanted a wider field, so perched mine on a dresser opposite the bed. I checked the screen to make sure that most of the room was in view. I didn’t want my phone barking at me if we got out of range. Then, I pressed the connect icon and ensured that the Chaperon uplink was working. I couldn’t imagine what it would have been like not having these interactions recorded. If things went badly off the rails, Chaperon would hit its panic button. Even if it never came to that, it was prudent these days to have a record. From what I understood, when it came to he-said/she-said, the deeper voice tended to get the benefit of the doubt. Or better lawyers. It was safer this way, having the proof up in the cloud, ready to rain down like God’s own wrath if ever it was needed.

“Are we good?” he asked.

I checked my phone one last time. “Yeah.”

Another kiss, more contemplative and tender this time. I felt on firmer footing now. More relaxed. More secure.

At length, I leaned away from him. “Let me,” I said.

He stood still as I unbuttoned his shirt. I liked the act of the slow unveiling, especially the unveiling of someone who obviously took care of himself. I traced the tattoo that covered his right shoulder and part of his chest. I hadn’t taken him for a tattoo kind of guy. I liked it though.

My hands alit on his jeans. I hesitated a moment. I didn’t expect a squawk and there wasn’t one. Good. A prohibition against this would have been well and truly weird. Impatiently, I pushed his pants down his legs, together with his underwear. As he stepped out of them, I cradled his balls in my hands.

I liked this… being dressed while the object of my attentions was naked. It gave me a little thrill of power, not to mention the ability to get out of dodge if things went south. I didn’t expect them to, but a girl couldn’t be too careful, Chaperon notwithstanding.

I stroked him while we kissed. His cock felt thick and heavy in my hand. Average in length, but above average in girth. Eventually, I sank to my knees before him. The symbolic submissiveness of kneeling didn’t bother me. I was dressed; he wasn’t. He was vulnerable, and I held his manhood in my hands. Pleasure, for now, was mine to give. There was a certain power in it.

I noticed how expectant his breathing had become and how he sighed a deep exhalation when I wrapped my lips around the bulbous head of his cock. I liked the taut smoothness of it, the engorgement that rendered it hard against my tongue. He was kempt down there. Not baby smooth, which always unsettled me for reasons I chose not to explore, but trimmed and neat. I flicked my tongue over the slit and liked the denizli escort bayan taste of him. It wasn’t always the case, but this was good.

Tightening my fingers around his base, I took him slowly into my mouth, feeling the ripples of veins against my lips. From my position, I looked up at him, taking him as far as I could. On the withdrawal, I allowed my teeth to gently rake against his hardness, a reminder that my submissiveness was conditional and mostly illusory.

His low moan was music to my ears. This would be good, I thought. I was momentarily alarmed when his hands alit on my head, but they simply followed my actions without interfering or encouraging.

“Uncle,” he gasped a few minutes later. I grinned up at him, lips firmly encircling his manhood. Let him have this picture. I was pleased with myself that I’d caused his knees to weaken. He took my hand and pulled me to my feet. A kiss followed, hot and deep, and then he surprised me by pushing me onto the bed. “Your turn.”

Josh quickly divested me of my clothing. He didn’t make a show of it, and I didn’t mind. His lips navigated me from head to pussy, lingering at my breasts. His head was soon framed between my legs as he knelt at the foot of the bed. Wow, I thought. All of this without asking for it. His agile tongue flitted over my clit, sending immediate jolts of pleasure through me.

He was a natural, alternating slow, desultory licks with the flat of his tongue with intense pressure with the tip. All the while, his fingers navigated my folds, exploring, dipping within and then spreading my arousal liberally around my flesh.

At some point, a finger brushed my anus. Whether intentionally or by accident, I didn’t know. Chaperon remained mute, its view evidently blocked. Then, the sensation repeated. Okay, it hadn’t been an accident. Ordinarily, I might have said something, uttered some kind of safeword known to my electronic protector, but I remained quiet. Truth was, it felt good, especially combined with the magic his tongue was working. It was a gentle touch, nothing too insistent, certainly nothing with strong intent. Just a touch, but a touch enough to prod me along.

Josh redoubled his efforts, pushing all of my buttons — those I was familiar with and some that I hadn’t fully appreciated until now. Cresting a rising wave, I didn’t care what he was pushing, so long as he kept doing it. And he did. Pushing, cajoling, and spooling me up until I inevitably unwound with a gasp.

While I groaned and mewled, his fingers and tongue were everywhere. In the moment, I didn’t know precisely what he was doing, only that it was overwhelming in its effect. Everything down there had become a single, electric erogenous zone.

When I finally returned from the land of gasping gibberish, I said, “You’re an artist.”

He smiled.

“Lie down,” I said. “You worked so hard…”

I leaned over him, straddling his waist, my nipples just barely touching his skin.

He buried his hand in my hair and pulled my head back. His lips met my bared throat and his hot breath warmed my skin. Unexpectedly, a moan slipped out from between my parted lips just as my phone blared an alarm. I’d forgotten; I’d entered hair pulling as a trigger after my last date. I’d also forgotten how sexy it could be when done in the right context. This was the right context, but Chaperon had no way of knowing.

“What’s wrong?”

“Override,” I gasped.

“Provide your password to confirm.” This from my phone.

I hadn’t recorded a voice password, meaning that I would have to type it in manually. “Shit.” And now I had to admit to Josh that I was a newb. “I didn’t configure it completely.”

“It’s not that important.”

“Do you mind? I have a hair-pulling thing. Or thought I did.”

“I can live without it.”

“Okay. I’ll fix it sometime. I’m sorry.”

Chaperon would be more watchful now, its sensitivity kicked up to a higher level. I’d been dumb and lazy. There was nothing for it now.

His hands fell to my lower back. They were safe there. I tried to put Chaperon out of my mind as I angled my hips and felt the warmth of his cock at my entrance. I hoped that the alarm hadn’t killed the mood. By the look on Josh’s face as his cock tickled my vulva, I needn’t have worried. He was more than ready. So was I. I bit my lip and concentrated as I pressed against the unyielding hardness of his erection, felt its head slip within me. I rocked back and forth, just shallow thrusts for now, and thrilled at the anticipation of engulfing him completely. I wanted this to last, so I teased him for another minute before slowly claiming him.

When I finally took all of him, I sat up and stayed there for a moment, relishing the sense of fullness, the feeling of having something vibrant and hard within me. His fingertips toyed with my nipples. His eyes were closed and a faint smile played on his lips. He looked blissfully innocent in that moment, tousled, lips parted, antalya escort and given over to pleasure. I must have looked the same way, but had no way of knowing.

“You feel good,” he said.

I answered by rising just a little and then bottoming out again, pressing my tingling clit against him. He felt good too. We moaned simultaneously and laughed at the inadvertent porniness it. I much preferred laughter to earnestness at moments like this. For a first time with someone, I felt strangely at ease with Josh. Our easy rapport made me feel as though we’d been doing this forever.

I dropped down again and kissed the tip of his nose. Goofy, but I was in a mood.

His hands rested lightly on my ass. When I started rocking on him, I noticed how a finger moved to the cleft, tracing it as I rose and fell upon him. Despite what I was doing and the delirious feelings elsewhere, my thoughts focussed on the finger channelled between my cheeks. I was hyper aware of how close it was to my anus, its distance when I drove onto him, its delicious proximity when I withdrew. Almost involuntarily, I arched my back, inviting him to touch it, bringing the finger to its evident target.

I’d never made a habit of offering my ass as an erogenous destination for anyone, but for whatever reason, I did now. The unsolicited and expert tongue lashing he’d subjected me to gave me the warm and fuzzies about him. Maybe I’d just been waiting for the right guy, someone who didn’t badger me about it. If I was going to give up this part of me, I wanted it to be on my terms. Maybe that was the difference. That and the fact that I was close to coming again.

“Do you have lube?” I asked.

He reached over and fumbled around his bedside table. At last he found it. I held my breath as he anointed his finger and returned it to where it was before. Its slipperiness brushed my anus as I moved. I sighed. There was nothing insistent about his touch. Nothing demanding. It was pleasant… no, it was more than pleasant. It was fucking hot.

I continued to move. At length, his fingertip breached my tight opening.

I gasped something, a combination of obscenity and animal growl. As I moved, his finger slipped in and out of me. I did nothing to limit the intrusion, voiced no disapproval, because at that moment, it was the best thing I’d ever felt. I gave myself over to the sensation and the naughtiness of it.

And now, the thing that I’d denied myself forever was the thing I wanted most.

I slowed down to prolong the moment. “Don’t come,” I said.

Josh groaned. He must have been close. “Why?”

“Because I think I want you there.”

“There?”

I tightened myself around his finger.

“Really?”

“I’ve never done it before.”

“Oh.”

“But I want to.”

“Are you sure?”

It astounded me that he was asking. Most guys wouldn’t. “Yes.”

I didn’t know why it was so important to me to do this now. But at that moment, I wanted to feel every sensation my body was capable of. It might have been the lingering effects of the drinks, or more likely my comfort with Josh. Maybe I was just ready to throw caution to the wind. Whatever the reason, I was fixated on the thought.

I lifted off of him and positioned myself in the center of the bed, on my hands and knees. I still couldn’t quite believe I was doing this, especially of my own volition.

Josh moved behind me.

“Lube,” I gasped. “Lots.”

“I know.”

“Quickly, before I change my mind.”

He dove into my pussy from behind while his fingers prepared my rear passage. I felt a renewed application of lube, followed by the slow insertion of his finger. He moved it in and out, and my toes curled as I buried my head in a pillow to stifle the mortifying noise I was about to make. I felt myself stretching as he added another finger. If his fingers felt this huge, how would I be able to take his cock?

He withdrew and I could sense that he was gooping up his erection. Then, seconds later, I could feel him there, pressing.

I had a moment of dissociation, as though I wasn’t quite present. As though I were borrowing someone else’s body for this act. My heart thumped in my chest and I came back to myself, feeling at once dirty and in control.

At that moment, a loud alarm erupted from my phone. Both of us froze. It took me a moment realize what was happening. Chaperon. Damn, I thought. In the headiness of the moment, I’d forgotten about it. It must have recognized the configuration of our bodies as one of the hard limits I’d set.

“Override,” I said, knowing that it wouldn’t work.

“Provide your password to confirm.”

“Should I stop?” asked Josh

“No,” I said. “It’s okay,” I said, louder, for the benefit of the software.

“Are you sure?” I could detect an undercurrent of nervousness in his voice.

“Yeah. Just be gentle, okay?”

“I’ll do my best. Just let me know if it’s too much.”

“Provide your password to confirm.”

I groaned in frustration.

“That phone of yours is a real buzz kill,” he said.

“I know.” It was. I’d have to do some serious reconfiguring in the morning. “Turn it off.”

“Are you sure?”

“We still have yours.” It occurred to me that his phone had remained silent throughout. “Do you have any limits?”

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

This story can be described as an extravagant daydream from a male perspective. Which explains why the concept is ludicrous. English is not my first language so I apologize for mistakes in grammar and spelling. All characters in the story are above the age of eighteen.

3: The Coronation

It is time for your coronation.

Prince Cumagan will become king Cumagan, the fourth with that name. The cathedral is prepared. The guests and officials are gathered. Your mother and soon-to-be wife, Alisha, has rehearsed the ceremony with you, but you are still uncertain about some details. She has told you not worry. The only, truly awful thing that could happen, she claims, would be your absence. The realm would be disappointed. And in danger. It needs its king. And breeder. The most trying thing for you is that the custom prescribes twelve days of chastity before the coronation. No fucking or sucking. Not even a kiss or a hug. At the same time you have been regularly drinking concoctions to strengthen stamina and potency. Torture.

You will be happy when this day is over, you think as you step out of the carriage and onto the platform in front of the cathedral of Revonia. Around the building members of the royal guard is posted, wearing golden armor and holding lances with white and purple streamers. The entire population of the capital is out on the streets. You wave benignly to the cheering crowd and then look up at the cathedral. It is a grand structure with five towers and many niches with life-size statues of men and women. All of them nude. Around the entrance there is a fascinating arch of intertwined statues, obviously representing lovemaking. Very skillfully done. It is a sight that might make anyone want to step inside to find true religion. You gather your long purple robe, lined with white fur, around you and enter. Alone.

You cross the stone floor in a dark chamber and then arrives in the main hall. It is filled with people. All of them women, obviously. As soon as you appear everyone kneel as if on a given signal. You try to walk slowly towards the high altar with something that could be interpreted as royal dignity. You can feel the red velvet carpet against your feet. Because you are naked underneath robe, in accordance with tradition. You cautiously watch the guests. About two thirds of them seem to be noblewomen, with lavish dresses and glittering jewels. The remaining third consists of a selection of your many sisters, recognizable with their violet eye color, and a hundred young women, some fair-skinned, some dark-skinned, all of them in bridal gowns. Interestingly designed gowns. The veils does not cover their faces. The corsets does not cover their breasts. The skirts does not cover their legs. They are your brides. All of them. You feel droplets of sweat on your neck and brow.

Finally you reach the open space surrounding the high altar, with its rather overwhelming statue portraying the goddess, the ultimate mother and mistress. If you could breed her you would become the progenitor of a new race of gods and giants. The gathered dignitaries bow towards you. In front of the high altar there is a newly erected podium and on it stands your throne. It is konya escort not as luxurious as one might think, it is centuries old and no one is allowed to redecorate it. To the right of it, on a lower level, your mother sits on another throne. She is wearing a gorgeous dress, studded with diamonds. Above her massive coiffure glitters the crown. The crown of the kingdom. Your crown. The state treasurer, a curvy blonde, steps to your left side and the chief attorney, a slender brunette, steps to your right side. They take your hands and lead you towards the podium. You cannot help thinking, with some nostalgia, that you fucked the state treasurer fourteen days ago and the chief attorney twenty-one days ago. They leave you to ascend the podium on your own, which you do, stand in front of the throne and turn around. First at this moment your mother and Caronna, high priestess of Revonia, bow to you. Then you sit down on the throne. The wood creaks beneath you, but it holds together.

Caronna raises her staff of office and the congregation stands up. Caronna is in charge of the ceremony, after all this is her cathedral. There is something almost harsh over her sunburnt face, something one would not expect in a priestess serving the goddess of love, though you would still call her attractive. Sometime in the future you will investigate the body under that dark grey robe.

“Blessed be the goddess!” Caronna begins, with a voice used to public speaking, “Blessed indeed, for she has blessed this realm. An unbroken line of kings has ruled us in peace and prosperity. And this line continues today with Cumagan. He has already showed his worthiness, his devotion to the needs of the realm, his attention to the desires of his people. Rejoice! Our people shall not perish, our kingdom shall not be depopulated. Therefore we are here to honor him that should be honored above everyone else. To make him our king and supreme breeder. May his offspring fill the land! May his lineage never expire! May we deserve his seed! Blessed be Cumagan! Blessed be the Reversang dynasty! And blessed be the goddess!”

The congregation echoes: “Blessed be the goddess!”

Caronna makes a gesture and Iridina, one of your sisters, step forward. She is wearing a mantle of golden silk, glistening like metal. Her face, framed by a silvery coronet, is dazed. Caronna pulls the mantle aside. Underneath Iridina is just as naked as you are. Caronna touches her pussy lips with the head of her staff. Iridina quivers. She seems extremely sensitive at the present moment. Caronna replaces the staff with her right hand and starts caressing your sister.

“In the beginning the goddess allowed her divine juices to flow”, continues Caronna, “And the god was lured by her scent and she welcomed his body into her body and they copulated for a million years and from their mixing of fluids the world and all life in it was born. Therefore, in man and women is a divine essence, the juices that flow in mating. Copulate and you do the work of the goddess. Make love and the goddess shall bless you. God and goddess, man and woman, we fuck, we mate, we become divine. Praise to the goddess!”

During this Chirie Auto Chisinau speech Iridina has become more and more dissolved in pleasure. With extraordinary timing the orgasm spurts forward with the final words. The cries of Iridina fill the hall. Her legs bend under her and she sinks to the floor. Caronna makes a sign of benediction over her head. Then a serving girl helps Iridina to some cushions. Caronna steps up to the throne and holds her moist hand in front of your face.

“Receive the juice of woman, which originate in the goddess. With it you shall be anointed and blessed by the goddess.”

You lick her hand, a little bit hesitatingly at first and then eagerly, lapping each finger. Caronna steps back and raises her arms.

“He has received the goddess. The goddess is with him and he is with the goddess. Blessed be the goddess!”

Once again the congregation echoes: “Blessed be the goddess!”

Then your mother arises. When the folds of her dress straightens out you notice something. Her protruding belly. She is pregnant. With your child. She has not told you, successfully hidden the change until now. You want to rush up and embrace her, but realize it would disturb the proceedings. Alisha removes the crown and holds it with both hands.

“This crown I received from my husband and father. I have carried it to aid my son and king. Now I return it to him as is proper. May he possess the crown with wisdom and honor. With love and devotion, not envy or regret, do I perform this act.”

She steps over to you and offers you the crown. You touch it, not taking it yet.

“I receive this crown from my honorable mother so the unbroken lineage of kings shall not be broken. May the goddess and all my forbearers grant me wisdom and honor.”

You take the crown and place it on your head. It doesn’t really fit you, it is a bit too small, but at least it stays on your head. Alisha kneels and shouts: “Long live the king! Cumagan the fourth!”

Everyone follows her example: “Long live the king! Cumagan the fourth!”

But you do not care about the adulation. The only thing you see is your mother’s sweet face. And the only thing you feel is your hard erection. Surely those around have seen the bulge in the robe. You whisper, almost painfully: “Mother…I need you…”

“And you shall have me, my son.”

She unclasps your robe and shows your naked body to everyone. Then her mouth engulf your cock. You know that this time is special. This is not merely a blowjob, it is a proposal. That is how it is done in the realm, with the sucking of cock or licking of pussy. Your mother is asking for permission to become your wife. And the only thing in your mind is to fuck that heavenly mouth, see the love in those violet eyes, prove with your seed how much she matters to you. She pulls away from your cock and you groan in disappointment.

“My son”, she gasps, “My son and king…Will you take me as your wife?”

“Yes…By all the gods, yes!”

“The action have been performed and the words have been spoken”, interjects Caronna, “You are now husband and wife, in the eyes of the goddess.”

“Then…My wife and mother…Continue porno izle to serve me.”

“Later, my kingly son. You have other duties to perform.”

She takes your hand and together you step down from the podium. The officials have carried forth a kind of table covered with white cloth. You feel the crown being lifted from your head.

“I take care of it for now”, Alisha explains, “We do not want it to fall into the floor. Remember, you must not fuck all of them today. Just as many as you like. Or are able to.”

A bride is led to the table. Her swirling hair is bluish black. She has brown skin, small earrings and a cute smile.

“I am Guina, your majesty.”

“Glad to meet you, Guina. I…”

She drops to her knees and sucks you. The compliment dies on your lips in a hoarse groan. Guina shows great enthusiasm. After a while she looks at you.

“My king…Will you take me as your wife?”

“Yes…Yes, I will.”

Guina jumps up on the table and spreads her legs for you. The pent up energy from your enforced chastity is released. In one movement you kiss her and penetrate her pussy. She holds on to your shoulders as you pound her. Her little noises of pleasure make you wild. The table shakes under the onslaught. And with blinding haste you climax together. When the seed is seen in her pussy a chorus rings out: “Blessed be the goddess!”

Before you have time to say something to Guina she is replaced by another bride. This one has hair with the color of wheat and a wicked smile curves her intensely red lips. She doesn’t even introduce herself before going down on your cock, first lapping and then sucking. You push yourself deep in her throat and she takes you without problem. Though her eyes are moist when she asks: “Will you take me as your wife, my king?”

“Oh, I will.”

You lift her up on the table and fucks her with abandon. She encourages you with her smile and bucking body. You are going to breed this vixen. You are the breeder and she shall be breed. That is all you can think. Once again you erupt and once again the chorus rings out: “Blessed be the goddess!”

The rest of the day becomes a blur. The names elude you. All you see is faces in the throes of divine agony. All you can feel is body pressed against body, your hardness against their wetness. And you fuck and fuck and fuck.

Until you let out a sigh of relief that makes the hall reverberate and then you collapse into oblivion.

You wake slowly, feeling heavy and thirsty. Nursing hands touch you.

“Do not exert yourself, my son. Or perhaps you prefer that I use the address ‘your majesty’ from now on?”

There is humor in your mother’s voice, but also worry. You heave yourself up into a sitting position.

“What…What happened? It feels like I been sleeping for a week…”

“Not a week. Three days.”

“Three days! But…My brides…How many…”

Your mother glows with pride.

“All of them. You fucked them all. Left your seed in them all. In one single day. Of course you became fatigued. Would have been strange otherwise. I am afraid you need to rest for three days more. No copulation. Not even with your mother.”

Instinctively one of your hands have been caressing her bosom.

“Dreary…How do you know that I will not die of boredom?”

“Well”, she muses while removing your covers, “I suppose one little sucking will not hurt you.”

“Give me your pussy instead, mother”, you insist, “I need a drink.”

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Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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The room is a small, run-down bedchamber, the kind rented for a few coins to merchants or tired travelers looking to sleep off the rigors of the road. It contains little more than a bed with a threadbare mattress and blanket and a small shelf with a water pitcher and an unlit oil lamp. Its floor is bare wood, stained by water and worn by the feet of its many tenants.

The room echoes with a sudden, loud thump and the door rattles with a sharp impact. From the other side of the door is a small, scraping sound: a key fumbling blindly for the lock. It is accompanied by a voice, muffled by the thick wooden door.

“For fuck’s sake, woman! Let me at least get the door open before you-“

The voice is interrupted by another loud impact against the outside of the door and a sensual, feminine laugh which turns into a wordless, eager moan. On the other side of the door the key finally finds its place in the lock and the door bursts open allowing two people, tangled in one another’s arms, to stumble into the small room.

The woman is the most striking of the two, standing several inches taller and with a body that looks like it was crafted by an incredibly talented and equally lusty sculptor. Her skin is pale and flawless, without a single scar or blemish marring its perfection and her eyes are molten emeralds, burning with hungry emotion. The only thing that breaks the illusion of perfect artistic design is her hair, cut short with a knife and with no eye to style or decoration. Despite that its copper-gold color is striking and its ragged edges only serve to highlight her fundamental beauty.

“Kal,” Her breathing is rapid, almost panting. “You’re taking too long.”

She loosened the laces of her soft, leather bodice which was already barely containing her generous breasts. She shoves her partner further into the room and kicks the door closed behind them. The motion is more than the laces can handle and her breasts burst free, revealing soft pink nipples standing out against pale skin. She kicks off her boots and pads towards Kal, the leather strips of her skirt swishing over her curvaceous thighs.

Kal backs away a bit, fumbling with the ornate, gilded clasp of his belt. His build is athletic and lean, with skin like Meridian chocolate. His expression is a mixture of lust and nervousness and he raises his free hand in a placating gesture while still fumbling at his belt with the other.

“Astra, just give me a moment,” he takes another half-step back. “I just got this belt, I haven’t quite got the hang of it.”

Astra slips one hand behind her back and withdraws a long, wide-bladed dirk and begins to twirl it between her fingers in a series of flashing circles. With her other hand she smoothly unbuckles her own belt and drops her skirt to the floor. Her pussy is smooth and already has a rosy blush of arousal.

“Hold still,” she takes another step towards Kal. “I’ll get that off.”

“Astra! No!” Kal tries to back up further but his legs hit the corner of the bed. “This is worth at least five denarii, don’t you dare cut it up!”

Astra’s grin is predatory and tugs at her leather top, revealing more of her chest. Each movement causes her breasts to sway and bounce gently and even without the support of her bodice they remain pert and firm. Underneath her sensual softness Kal could see the lean power of her muscles play beneath the skin. The sight made him even harder and his pants became painfully tighter, and he redoubled his efforts to loosen his belt. He knew from experience that Astra could handle him like a rag doll if she felt like it and she’d be more than happy to cut his expensive clothes to ribbons.

Finally his fingers found the catch on the belt buckle and he yanked it free, tugging his pants down to his ankles. His erection sprang free, its gently curved shaft extending from a tuft of curled black hair at its base. Tossing his belt and pants aside he started to chirie auto chisinau unbutton his shirt.

However, any patience Astra had left vanished with the sight of his cock. She flicked her wrist and tossed her dagger upwards, where it imbedded itself several inches into one of the ceiling’s support beams. She tossed aside her own top and reached out with both hands and grabbed fistfuls of Kal’s shirt and yanked it open, sending several mother-of-pearl buttons flying to the corners of the room. His dark chest was covered in a soft down of hair, interrupted by the occasional scar which belied his foppish fashion choices.

“Fucking hells Astra, I-” Kal’s frustration was cut off when she leaned in and pressed her lips to his. Her tongue flicked across his lips and when she drew his tongue into her mouth and began to gently suck it he completely forgot his objections. Without breaking mouth-to-mouth contact the two moved down onto the bed. Astra’s fingers stroked Kal’s hair which he wore long and bound into a series of tight braids, tipped with silver caps. He let one hand roam down her flank and then to the small of her back, pulling her closer, while the other traced its way down her collarbone. He moved further down and cupped one of her breasts, its softness completely filling his hand and the feeling of her rigid nipple against his palm sending an erotic thrill up his arm.

Astra ran her fingers down Kal’s neck and through his chest hair and then moved further, following the lines of his lean muscles, inching tantalizingly closer to his ready cock. She pulled her mouth back, giving his tongue one final flick with hers and let her mouth follow the path of her hand before stopping to gently tease one of his nipples with her lips and tongue. Finally her fingers found their way to his cock, slipping her thumb and forefinger about his shaft while her other fingers gently stroked his balls. A soft groan of excitement and desire escaped him and she responded in kind, letting out a sound halfway between a moan and a purr while flicking her tongue back and forth over his nipple.

“Dead gods, Astra,” Kal leaned his head down to nuzzle her messy shock of hair. “I’m not complaining…but are you even hornier than usual?”

Astra turned her head towards him and gave him another deep kiss before changing position, moving further down so that the tips of her breasts trailed across his chest and torso. The tip of his cock just barely brushing their heavenly softness while she gently kissed his torso.

“I’m just glad to see you,” Astra admitted. “It’s been weeks since I’ve had a good fuck. Or a bad one.”

Astra slid off the bed and settled on her knees next to it. Cupping his balls with one hand she leans in and lets her lips briefly brush against the head of his penis, savoring Kal’s scent and the throbbing heat of his erection.

“Too many thieves in this town,” she continues, lightly flicking her tongue against the tip of his cock between each word.” Every time I ask someone for a quick fling they assume it’s some kind of honey-pot scheme. I’m just looking for a bit of fun.”

Kal laughed gently, which turned to moans as Astra just barely closed her lips around the very tip of his cock and strokes two fingers up and down the length of his shaft. He puts one hand on the back of her head, twirling his fingers through her short hair.

“You should have asked for money,” Kal joked. “They’d have understood something like that-“

His words were cut off by a short yelp as Astra’s fingers tightened around his sack and she glared up at him, pulling her mouth away from his cock. He tensed as she pulled just hard enough to make it clear that she could be pulling much harder.

“I am no whore,” Astra’s green eyes glinted in the moonlight from the window, “Or were you planning to toss a few coppers my way after we were done?” Her tone was deadly cold.

Kal porno knew immediately that he had set his foot wrong. He and Astra crossed paths several times over the years and usually had fun every time they met. It was easy to forget that they were from two different worlds in many ways. While she had a near-endless appetite for sex and battle she also had a very strict sense of personal honor which he still didn’t entirely understand. She also had him literally by the balls.

“Whoa, whoa!” Kal winced. “I’m sorry Astra! I’m sorry! It was just a joke okay? I wasn’t trying to say anything about you, honest! Blood’s oath, I swear!”

Astra’s gaze remained flinty and thoughtful for a few terrifying moments before she finally relaxed her grip. Kal let himself breath an internal sigh of relief. It occurred to him that if Astra wasn’t so starved for sex right now then she’d probably have given him a good thrashing. He hoped that she would be in a better mood after a few orgasms and he wouldn’t end the night tossed in the latrine.

Astra rose from her knees and put her hands on his chest, pushing Kal down onto the bed. She straddled him and grabbed the back of his head, shoving his face between her breasts. Eager to mend fences, Kal planted gentle kisses in the cleft between them before nuzzling his way to one of her erect nipples and sucking it into his mouth. Astra let out one of her purring moans and began to grind her hips against his torso. He could feel the heat from her pussy and her movements left a trace of wetness on his skin. He opened his mouth wider and suckled harder at her nipple, teasing it with the tip of his tongue. In response Astra moved her hips lower so that her moist lips were rubbing directly against the shaft of his cock. As he brought a hand to the other breast, lightly pinching and pulling at the nipple, she began to move faster and grinding in a small, circular motion on his hard cock.

Fortunately, Kal has had enough trysts with Astra to know what she likes from him. He pushed down on the small of her back, increasing the friction between his cock and her pussy. She started to nuzzle the nape of his neck and then to gentle nibble at the outline of his collarbone beneath his skin.

Kal released her breasts and sat up, bringing both into a sitting position. He grabbed her round ass in both hands and started to move her body, feeling the top of his cock becoming slick as he slipped half-way in and out of her. She dug her fingers into his back, perhaps a bit harder than normal due to his earlier, unintended insult.

With a surge of motion Kal stood, lifting her with both of his hands. Astra may be taller but Kal was no weakling and while her strength was impressive her frame was still slender so he could heft her easily. Together they thumped into one of the small room’s plaster walls and Astra wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs hugged his body close. Lifting her slightly higher, Kal’s cock slipped inside Astra’s eager, wet pussy. She let out a low, pleasurable sigh and her legs tightened, pulling Kal further inside.

As Kal began to thrust Astra let herself open wider, allowing him to slide the full, hard length of his cock into her. She could feel every inch of him, with the swelling head pushing deep inside and stroking the inner walls of her pussy and giving an incredible sense of fullness.

Although Kal’s cock was well above average, his girth was not the reason why he had become of one Astra’s favorite sexual partners. His true gift was perfect timing, with each thrust into her matching a rippling muscular contraction of her cunt. Each time her pussy tightened around his cock she could feel the heat and wetness building inside her. Her legs twitched and tightened involuntarily, while the muscles of her thighs and stomach trembling with each thrust of his hips and every time her body began to relax he would increase the strength porno izle and speed of his movements. Each movement was punctuated with an involuntary gasp of pleasure, increasing in frequency and volume as Kal picked up the pace.

“Harder.” Astra moaned, weaving her fingers into Kal’s braids.

“Do you want to wake up the whole inn?” Kal panted, their movements were already punctuated by the rhythmic thudding of Astra’s back hitting the wall. “Be patien-ow!” His words were cut off when Astra tightened her grip on his hair.

Astra let out a low, frustrated growl and slammed her free hand against the wall. The impact cracked the plaster and the force rattled the glass in the windows. The sound echoed through the room, loud as a cannon-shot.

“There, everyone’s awake!” Astra punctuated her words with more sharp blows. “Now, I said… Fuck. Me. Harder!”

With a sigh, and making a mental note to slip out the back once this was over, Kal obeyed. He begin slamming into her pussy in earnest, sweat starting to run down his back. Astra’s moans became loud cries of pleasure until he brought his mouth to hers, silencing her with his lips. She responded by biting down on his lower lip, there was pain and the taste of blood but he was too caught up in the heat of their movements to care.

While still gripping Kal’s braids Astra moved her other hand down Kal’s torso, letting her fingers trace his tense abdominal muscles. She moved her hand lower, between their writhing bodies and into the spot where they were joined, slick with sweat and her own flowing juices. Her fingers found the swollen nub of her clit and pressed down, letting it rub against the top of his cock as it slid in and out of her. The increased friction sent a shudder through her body and she could feel the hot flush spreading from her face, down her chest and grounding itself deep inside, where the tip of Kal’s cock hit the deepest parts of her pussy.

“Kal…” Her voice was quiet now, trembling as she could feel the climax growing but still just out of reach. Fortunately, he didn’t need to be told what to do and changed his pattern to respond to her need. With a single, strong motion he pushed his cock as deep as he could, spreading her legs further apart, and began to grind. His hips stayed locked to hers and started to gently roll against her, increasing the pressure on her clit and pressing his chest against hers.

They came almost simultaneously, with Astra’s shuddering orgasm pulling an eager, wordless exclamation from deep inside. Her body tightened, producing a delicious soreness as it gripped the hard length of Kal’s cock. The rippling contractions of her cunt tried to pull Kal even deeper inside and coaxed him to his own release. The liquid warmth of his cum filling her up and the aftershocks of her own orgasm left her pleasantly light-headed. She nuzzled the hollow of his neck and giggled, feeling the tension that had built up over the past two months finally release.

Kal’s felt his knees go weak and pulled both of them back from the wall, still holding Astra up and stumbling to the bed. The two fell to the sheets and separated, breathing heavily and letting the cool night air dry the sweat on their bodies. Astra closed her eyes and rested her hands on her pelvis and let out another quiet, satisfied laugh, rolling her head against Kal’s chest like an affectionate cat. Kal stroked her hair and smirked, more than a little self-satisfied about his performance.

“You always get a little fuck-drunk don’t you?” Astra mumbled something incomprehensible into his chest hair as he continued to tousle her short hair. “Feeling better now?”

Astra peeked up at him, eyes starting to focus again as the heat of her orgasm faded. She reached down and stroked her fingers up and down the length of his cock, still slick from their mingled fluids.

“Don’t get so cocky,” she tightened her grip and started to massage it in earnest. “I’ve got a lot of lonely nights to make up for. If you aren’t hard again in five minutes then I start cutting up that fancy shirt of yours.”

“Shit…” Kal groaned. “One of those nights, huh?”

“That’s right,” Astra straddled him. “I’ll be on top this time.”

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Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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Luria felt her heart leap into her throat in fear as that door clanged shut behind them with a resounding sound. This was it. She would face down Magnus, she would kill him for what he’d done to her, her parents and countless others who were trapped by him.

She took a deep breath as panic closed around her throat. The same panic sank deep into her soul for just being in this throne room where Magnus had taken her virginity so harshly brought back the memories of the event. Her body was shaking and she felt her resolve weakening.

“It’s all right, Luria,” Balor hissed at her, rubbing his thumb against her arm. “He can’t hurt you while I’m here.”

Magnus closed the doors to the throne room and turned to his audience, throwing his arms wide. “My bride-to-be has returned!”

There were cheers throughout the throne room, cheers that stopped just as abruptly as they started when Magnus growled his displeasure. He strode up to his throne, spinning so that his short cape decorated with gems and shot through with silver threads rose up around his shoulders, glinting in the light of the torches and candles.

Luria couldn’t help but think it an impressive sight even though she despised Magnus and everything about him. He was a very good looking man, child of a god and a mortal just as she was.

Would they be evenly matched when it came to the fight?

“I have not returned by choice,” she snarled at him. “I have no wish to be your bride or under you thumb anymore. Let me leave here now and I won’t be forced to kill you.”

Magnus chuckled, enjoying the flush of color that rose from her breasts to turn her cheeks pink. “You aren’t giving orders any more, Luria. I know you’ve had Prince Balor under your spell, you shan’t do the same with me.”

“I despise you,” she snapped, struggling against her captors. They held her back, but just barely.

“That’s all right, Luria. I think I like you despising me more than that meek little mouse who fucked me that first night. Are you pregnant, Luria? Are you going to have my son?”

“I’m having Balor’s child, not yours Magnus, never yours. If you touch me, if you so much as lay one finger upon me, Balor will kill you if I don’t.”

“You are so fierce, my dear. The shy little kitten has found her claws. I must admit, this excites me. Shall I prove to you that I can have you here, now, in front of my people?”

He lifted his hand, crooking his finger at her. “Come to me, Luria. Rejoice with me for on the day you birth our son, we shall rule over all of the seven kingdoms.”

“NO!” Came a shout from the hallway.

Suddenly, Isobel bolted into the room with her black hair flying out behind her. “No, she shall not have you! She shall not take you from me, too.” She slammed into Luria, knocking her backwards, before hurtling her body at Magnus’s, causing him to fall back onto his throne. His head hit the high back and he grunted in pain.

“Bitch!” he shouted, rising and pushing her off of him. “Take her!”

Two of his beastly guard came forward, grasping Isobel’s arms and yanking her up. Her green eyes, once so pretty with her dark lashes, seemed wild and half-mad. She stared around the room, her gaze never settling on any one person until she saw Luria. “This is your fault!” she screamed, her hands coming up to tear at her scalp. “This is all your fault. He wanted me. I carry his child now, in my belly. I have his child, not you. Never you!”

“Take her back to the tower and lock her in with her maid. She is not to be let out, no matter what.” Magnus stood, pushing his hair out of his face and staring down where Luria sat upon the floor where she’d fallen.

Through the window, the first light of the coming dawn streaked in, touching upon Luria’s slender frame and turning her golden. Magnus shielded his eyes from the aura of goodness and purity that came from her, flinching as it touched him.

He couldn’t touch her, not while she was bathed in this light. It seemed to be absorbed by her skin, giving her a glow of golden radiance.

“What is this?” he growled. “The castle should be closing itself up, preparing for the dawn, not letting it in.” He threw his arm up over his face as her glow grew brighter.

Luria stood, the dagger in her hand, though she kept it hidden by her leg. She moved toward Magnus purposefully, stalking him around the throne room as he tried to hide from her glow.

“Afraid of me now, Magnus? Now that you know that this is the end. Aren’t you man enough to face it? Come to me, Magnus. Let me show you exactly how much I love you.”

“Stay back,” he growled, feeling the glow touching his body like tiny little flames. “You can’t do that here, this is my castle! Mine! It follows my rules and orders. You can’t be here like that,” he repeated, little whines coming from his mouth as the glow burnt through his clothing, leaving spots of reddened and burnt flesh on his skin.

“I am the son of Loki,” he screamed. “I am the son of a god, you cannot do this, not to me.”

“I can and izmir escort I will,” Luria said, clasping the dagger in both of her hands. She walked around him, getting closer even as he shied away from her. His flesh was beginning to smoke and he curled into a ball, doing his best to get away from her until finally, there was no place to go.

With a little of his old bravado, he looked up at her, his eyes squinting against the glow. “You carry my son.”

“I carry Balor’s son. You never spent your seed inside of me. You came in my mouth, Magnus, do you not remember?” she asked almost kindly.

He shook his head even as his eyes told her the truth, he did remember now. “Not my son,” he repeated.

“No, not your son. But it’s nothing for you to fear, Magnus.” She reached out, grabbing hold of Magnus’s hair and lifting his head. Her dagger went to his throat and she drew it, biting deeply into his flesh. His blood spurted, causing her to release her hold on him and jump back. His blood was thick and black, and seemed to eat at the floor where it touched, causing a hissing noise and furrows to form in the rock.

The entire castle began to shake, the stones breaking and crushing.

“We’ve got to get out of here!” Balor shouted, grabbing Luria’s hand. He was back to himself, the spell having worn off. Throwing off the furs he wore on his shoulders, he started dragging her toward the door.

“What of Isobel?” Luria shouted.

Behind them there was the sound of a roaring, like the deepest belly of hell calling for its meal. Graeme looked back and felt his skin crawl. Magnus’s blood had sunk deep into the rocks, finding the ground below. It had created a vortex, a swirling sucking vortex from the depths of hell, dragging in those who didn’t get away quickly enough or far enough.

“Balor,” Graeme said, tapping the man upon his shoulder. “I think we should get out of here.”

Balor glanced back then into Luria’s eyes. “I’ll go get Isobel, you leave with Graeme, get out as far and as fast as you can and don’t look back, got me?” He didn’t wait for her answer, dropping his head to kiss her hard and fast and then he was away.

Luria glanced back at the vortex, watching as dark tendrils that looked like smoke seemed to coalesce into something more evil. Tentacles waved from within the vortex, reaching out to grab those who were near, dragging them into the hungry swirling mass.

She screamed when one of them touched her, wrapping around her ankle to drag her toward the hell inside. Graeme grabbed his sword, swinging it through the tentacle which gave off a black ichor. He pulled the thing off of her ankle, staring at the burn marks on the britches she wore. If it hadn’t been for them and her boots, she’d have been burned.

“We need to get out of here, now.” He helped her up and then grabbed her by the hand to drag her behind him. They forced their way out of the black castle even as the stones that made up the tall walls rained down around them.

The ground shook causing them to weave and stumble. Luria heard a scream and looked back, seeing the thing in the vortex getting bigger, its tentacles getting longer. It grabbed one of the beastly guard, almost tearing him in two before dragging him back and in.

“Get rid of the skins,” she shouted at Graeme, seeing another tentacle coming after them. “Drop them!”

Graeme shrugged off the skins that had made up his shirt, watching as the tentacle seemed to almost sniff around them, then pick them up and shake them, before taking them back into the vortex. He shuddered in disgust before grabbing Luria’s hand once more. “Let’s get out of here!”

A gargoyle, one that had to come from the top of the castle slammed down on one of the beastly guard, smashing him in the process. It rolled, its ghastly form staring up at Luria. She jumped over it, going to the closed gate and pushing as hard as she could. It didn’t budge.

“We’ve got to get this opened,” she shouted over the sound of the vortex and the screams of those who had served Magnus.

Graeme studied the gate a moment then went to the turnstile, grabbing one of the spokes and pushing against it. “Help me!”

Together they got the gate opened, the sudden roar from outside nearly lost in the deafening noise of the vortex. Rowan bounded in through the opening, Shria right behind him. They dug in their paws to stop when they saw what was going on. Rowan roared and the vortex roared back, challenging the massive lion.

“Rowan!” Luria screamed and the lion turned to her, his love for his mistress greater than his love of battle. “Find Balor, Rowan. Help Balor.”

The lion turned and barreled up the stairs outside the castle that led to the ramparts. He bounded over and ducked around the rocks that kept falling. Luria stood and watched him until Graeme grabbed her once more, forcing her outside of the castle and onto stable ground. Shria came with her but kept turning her head to look for her own mate.

From outside, they samsun escort watched as the castle began to crumple in upon itself. The battlements went with a roar of stone, falling into the castle proper and destroying the bailey with it. When the turrets and towers fell, Luria screamed, her heart breaking. No one could survive that, no one, not even her Balor.

“Gods! No, Graeme, I have to go back,” she shouted, tears streaming down her face. “I have to go back and get him.”

“You can’t,” Graeme growled, clasping her struggling body to his. “You can’t, there won’t be anything to go back for.”

Great, heartrending sobs shook her slender form and she fell to her knees on the ground, unable to watch what was happening anymore. Shria sat by her side, nuzzling her mistress. She grunted a couple of times, almost as if she were trying to tell Luria something, but the girl was too lost in her misery to respond.

When Shria stood and roared, Luria lifted her head seeing shapes taking form in the gray cloud of dust that had plumed up around the castle as it fell. Rowan appeared, a shape upon his back, another holding onto his mane as he led them out of the castle. Shria raced to him, bounding around him before rubbing her cheek over his as a sign of her love for the big cat.

“Balor?” Luria called. Her heart pounded hard in her chest, hope causing her to get up and head toward the cat. “Balor?”

“Here,” he said, coughing hard as the dust got into his lungs. “I’m here,” he said again as she came to him, grabbing him and helping him away from the dust cloud. They made it a ways further and then she fell on him as he sank down into the grass. He coughed harshly, spitting dust and gravel out of his mouth as he wheezed upon his hands and knees.

“I thought you were dead,” Luria said, running her hands over her handsome husband’s back. “Don’t ever scare me like that again,” she said, smacking him on the shoulder. She stood up and paced next to him as he rolled to his back. “I can’t believe you did that to me.”

“Oh yeah, you were the one who wanted to rescue Isobel,” he said, taking in great heaving breaths of fresh air. “I was just doing what you wanted done.”

Luria sank down next to him, her hand going to his face. “If I lose you, my world ends, too,” she whispered, staring into his eyes.

“I feel the same, my love,” he said, taking her hand and using it to pull her over him so that he might find her mouth. He kissed her through the grit that coated them both, flipping over so that she was on her back under him.

The first drops of rain fell, one hitting Luria on the forehead, sliding down into her hair and leaving a trail of clean skin behind. More fell until it was a downpour. Balor pulled Luria up to her feet, standing next to her in the pouring rain as they surveyed what had been done to Magnus’s castle.

The black gate stood, hanging askew of its frame, little left to hold it up. The walls surrounding it were gone, turned to rubble in places and gone as if it had never existed in others. In the center, where the castle had stood, a single black tree rose from the ground. It was twisted and barren, no leaves covering its old branches. It sat almost directly in the center of the area where the castle would have been.

“It’s all gone,” Luria said softly. “Magnus and his castle, his guard, everything, gone as if it had never existed.”

“No, we all know he existed,” Balor said softly, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and pulling her close. “Every one of us who has been affected by Magnus in some way knows he existed. That black tree is proof and shall stand here until the day it rots as testimony that good can flourish over evil. We shall have a plaque made to tell the tale of the beautiful Princess Luria and her triumph against the black Magnus.”

“Oh and shall we also tell of Prince Balor and how he saved the princess and then made her his?” Luria asked, wrapping her arms around his lean waist and pressing close.

“Of course, for there could be no happily ever after if the prince didn’t love the princess and she him, am I not right?” Balor teased her lips with a small brush of his, laughing when she pressed against him for more.

“This princess truly loves her prince,” she said, smiling up at him.

“Let us go home then so you can prove it,” he answered her with a quirk of his dark brow.

Graeme stood behind them, staring at the destruction and what little was left of the castle. There was not even a single blood stain on the ground inside the rubble. It was as if the castle that had been created in black magic had been taken back down and into the hell it had been created from.

“Come, Graeme…there will be feasting and celebration in every kingdom tonight. Your wife will have been retrieved and will be waiting for you. Let us not make her wait long.” Balor slapped the elf on his back, smiling.

But Graeme couldn’t return the smile. There was something…not right about this whole thing. konya escort “It was too easy,” he said.

Balor stopped. “What did you just say?”

“It was too easy.” Graeme looked up at Balor. “Didn’t it feel too easy?”

“Not from where I’m standing,” Balor grinned.

“No, Balor,” Luria said, “he’s right. Magnus wouldn’t have let me get that close to him, especially not to sit there and let me slit his throat that way. Something’s not right.” She looked around the clearing, her eyes locking on the tree. “I don’t like that tree.” She shuddered in distaste as she stared at it.

“It’s just a tree,” Balor said, his hand sliding down her back over the golden beauty of her hair. “Trees cannot harm you, Luria.”

Luria shook her head, turning to look up at her husband. “Perhaps you’re right,” she said with a sigh.

“Of course I’m right. We’ll get back and get some rest. Things will look better in the morning.”

“What about them?” Graeme asked, staring at Isobel and her maid. Isobel was sitting on one of the rubbled piles of rocks, her green eyes looking almost black in the light of the dawn. Her injuries seemed to stand out against the paleness of her skin. She kept the blanket Mathilde had wrapped around her clutched tightly to her breast and her eyes on Balor. Her stare was almost eerie.

“We’ll take them back to the palace and let the doctors there take a look at her. Perhaps, with rest, she’ll go back to her old self.” Balor placed two fingers in his mouth and whistled, Tristan coming to the top of the hill and galloping down toward them, his armies following.

Giving orders to transport Isobel and her maid, he jumped aboard Tristan, instead of his own horse and pulled Luria up in front of him. They galloped ahead of the rest, reaching the palace well before the rest of the troops. His parents met them at the gates.

“Son! You are safe? And Luria? It is over?”

“We are both well,” Balor said, laughing as he got down from the big black stallion. He held up his hands and Luria slid down into them, staying in his arms even as her feet touched the ground. “Magnus is no more,” he announced, the sound of triumph apparent in his voice.

“And Isobel?”

“She’s coming with the rest of them, her and her maid. She’s been through hell,” Balor said softly. “I’d like for our physician to look at her.”

“It shall be done, son. We shall have a celebration for today is the day that Magnus’s forces hold sway no more. We are free!”

Balor yawned, hugging Luria to him. “That’s wonderful, Father, but perhaps we can celebrate after we get some rest?”

King Martane laughed, hugging his own wife. “Yes, rest. You two have more than earned it. We shall wait for you to rise before we begin the celebration.” He patted his son on the back and then let the two enter into the palace. “I’ll have water brought in so the two of you can bathe,” he called after them.

* * * *

The water was warm, steam rising from the surface. Luria lowered herself into it slowly, sinking down until the water waved gently against her chin. She sighed, such a lovely feeling, the heat warming her sore muscles.

A splash had her opening her eyes and wiping drops of water from her face. Her husband rose in front of her, a smile on his handsome face as he shook his head.

“I hope you enjoyed that,” she said softly.

“I did,” he said with a smile. He reached out, pulling her up and out of the water and into his arms. “I think I’ll enjoy this even more.” His hand caressed her face, pushing the hair from her cheek. He felt every naked curve of hers against his lean body, her breasts pressing against his chest.

“You still think it’s over?” she asked him as his head lowered toward her mouth.

“Yes, my love. I think it’s over and you and I have won the day. We should celebrate, as my father suggested.” His nose nuzzled against hers and he brushed his lips over hers. She shivered as his whiskery cheek rubbed against hers as he took her lips. Heat slammed into her, pooling low in her belly. Her head swam with the sensations he so easily created inside of her. She moaned as his tongue pushed into her mouth rubbing against her own.

Balor shifted his hands, lifting her bottom and pulling her long legs around his waist. His cock nudged against her sex from below, teasing her just as his fingers teased her body. He moved his lips down to her throat, growling as she lowered herself down on his cock, taking him easily into the wetness of her body.

His head fell back as she began to rise and lower herself, using his shoulders as leverage. Backing up, he found the small staircase that was in the water and sank backwards, letting her ride him as he relaxed against them. His hand slid up her wet body, taking in the full mounds of her breasts and kneading them tenderly in his palms.

Luria’s head fell back, the ends of her wet hair floating in the pool behind her. Her knees found purchase upon the steps on either side of his body and she ground against him, filling herself so perfectly with his cock that she couldn’t help but gasp at the sensations.

“That’s it,” Balor growled, his chest heaving as he moved up into her. “Take it deep, love.” He brought her down toward him, latching onto her nipple as her breasts hung above him like ripe fruit.

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Ben had the strangest sensation, like waking up from a dream about waking up from a dream–but he had woke up ten minutes ago. He felt a strange tingling pain at the back of his skull, but after a few moments it subsided.

“Are you sure you packed everything?” Vic asked before yawning mightily, closing the driver’s side door with a heavy enough slam to shake the snow off the window, “Your laptop? Your wallet? Your toothbrush”

Ben blinked a few times, then nodded to himself. That was one question answered. For the third time now, he was sitting in Vic’s car, Tammy, at three fifty AM on Saturday morning. It was cold outside, and Vic was about to turn the key in the ignition, which would make the AC vents start blowing cold air because Vic had forgotten to turn the fan off the last time she had driven.

“Yeah,” Ben said, reaching over to turn the nob that would turn down the fan before Vic started the engine, “but…”

Ben turned to look at Vic. There she was, gorgeous as ever, her hair in a misshapen storm cloud of black curls, her big, deep blue eyes watching him from underneath long-lashed, drowsy lids. She was perfect. She was also cheating on him, and if things were going how they seemed to be going, he was going to keep seeing her, here, now, again, no matter how he tried to stay away. He had broken up with her yesterday, and here she was again, his accusations, their argument, erased, back to living a lie she thought he didn’t know.

“You okay babe? You look like you’re about to cry!” Vic said, her brows wrinkling with concern as she reached over to brush his cheek with her hand; Ben recoiled.

“I…I…” Ben stuttered, “I don’t think I can do this today.”

He grabbed his bag and flung the car door open, looking away from Vic as he walked around the car and back towards their apartment. He couldn’t do it again. He couldn’t breakup with her again, not so soon, it was too much; but he couldn’t just pretend everything was fine either. He didn’t want to do anything—and, given the fact that it didn’t seem like it mattered what he was doing anyway, he decided that he was going to spend this time around doing nothing at all.

“Babe? Babe! What’s going on?” Vic yelled after him, concern in her voice as she got out of the car too, sprinting to catch up to him as he made it to their apartment door.

“I just…it’s too much,” Ben said, resisting the urge to shrink away from her touch as she put a hand on her shoulder; he didn’t want to fight, he just wanted to sleep.

“What is?”

Ben looked at Vic again. Whatever she had done, however many times she had betrayed him or would betray him, some part of her really cared, he could see it in her eyes. Despite the fact that she was cheating, he couldn’t help but feel a strange pang as he realized that he had fucked Sam, and now Vic didn’t even remember him breaking it off. It was almost like he had cheated too, although he quickly told himself that that didn’t make any sense.

“I…I just can’t,” Ben said, closing his eyes, repressing the sudden urge to start sobbing.

What was coming over him? Fear? Guilt? Exhaustion? He turned away from Vic before opening his eyes again and unlocking the door to the apartment, stepping in quickly, letting Vic shut the door behind her. The apartment was dark. It occurred briefly to Ben that, for him, it had been nearly two whole days since he had been home, rather than the five minutes that Vic must have just witnessed. Nonetheless, Ben knew his apartment well enough to feel his way towards the bedroom in the dark.

After only a couple of steps, Vic’s phone chimed out loud and clear—the snap from Juliet’s boyfriend Harry. The sound reminded Ben of everything all over again, and he realized that if he just crawled back into his own bed, Vic would crawl in next to him—and he didn’t want that. Ben turned around, deciding to head to the couch, and almost ran in to Vic behind him, who had stopped briefly to check the snap. The light of her phone lit up her face as her eyes widened for a brief moment before she tapped the screen once and slid her phone back into her purse.

“That was—” she started trying to explain without provocation, a hint of guilt in her tone.

Ben grunted, pushing past her into the living room, “I’m going to sleep on the couch.”

Vic stepped out of his way, watching him lumber over to the couch and crumple onto it. As soon as he was down, he realized how cold it was in the apartment, and how, unlike the bed, the couch didn’t have any blankets or comforters or anything—but he was far too miserable to get up—however, after only a few moments of lying there, face tucked into the corner between armrest and back cushion, hiding from the world, he felt Vic spread their down comforter over him before bending down to kiss his cheek.

“Feel better, babe. I’ll be in bed, but if you need anything, just let me know, ok?”

Ben didn’t answer, pretending to be asleep until Vic walked away.

Once mersin escort he heard the bedroom door close, Ben pulled out his phone. Sure enough the same folder was there that he had found the last time around. He opened it, and saw not one, but two more folders inside, one labelled L0001 and one Labelled L0002. He opened the second, and as he suspected, all of the texts from his second time through the day were there—everything between Sam, Tomm, Juliet, and himself, as well as a couple of dozen texts and snaps and voicemails from Vic which he had never read, but were nonetheless still saved on his phone.

Whatever was going on, it didn’t look like it was going to stop any time soon. Ben decided that if he was going to be forced to live through this day again and again, he should try and figure out why, and how. He checked the news, but nothing caught his attention—locally there were winter storm warnings and a new amber alert, nationally there was the constant deluge of idiocy from the fascist-in-chief and a story about the most recent school shooting, and internationally there were economic problems in Europe and violence in the Middle East—nothing out of the ordinary, as depressing as that was. No clues there.

Starting to feel warm under the comforter, and still wearing all of his winter clothes Ben took a break from his musing to strip down to his boxer-briefs under the covers before pulling out his phone once again.

He briefly toyed with the idea of exploring his particular circumstances by booking last-minute flights to visit far off countries, but he didn’t have the money for that if this looping suddenly stopped for some reason—and besides, by the time he got to some other country he would probably only have a couple of hours before the loop reset anyway. Domestically, he fantasized about doing something drastic like assassinating the president or robbing a bank, but he wasn’t a violent person, and besides, he didn’t know all the rules of the loop; what if he died and it never reset?

He realized, as he thought about this, that he was thinking about his life like a video game. It made sense—he had played enough of them, and it was hard to think of a time loop without thinking of science fiction out of some game or show or movie, and since he wasn’t some genius physicist he didn’t usually think about the finer points of time travel in a strictly scientific sense—but games had rules, as whatever was happening to him must, and along with those rules came boundaries that could be pressed, exploits, glitches, and…loading screens? Maybe the analogy wasn’t perfect, but it seemed to him like there must be something interesting he could do.

Money was the first obvious step, it would make everything easier. Assuming he was going to be living this day over and over, making some quick money off of his ability to remember the future seemed both plausible, and unlikely to hurt him even if the loop suddenly stopped. The only problem was, Ben had never really gambled much, and hadn’t ever put anything into stocks. He did some cursory research on sports gambling, but since it was technically illegal to do it online it looked like at the very least there was a lag time getting the money in the bank after you won anything—and any significant lag time made the money virtually useless since he only had one day to spend it in.

Cash in hand would be ideal—but also hard to actually get. He would need to find a place where he could bet on something in person, and collect his winnings fast enough that he could make use of them for the rest of the day, but where could he make large cash bets that paid out quickly on a frigid Saturday morning in January?

Stumped, and beginning to feel the weight of his own eyelids dragging down, Ben put his phone away, closed his eyes, and fell asleep on the couch.

Ben felt fingers tracing along his arm and up his shoulder; gentle caresses that just hinted at tickling him. He smiled and let out a sleepy, pleased sound, still only partially conscious, and rolled over on his back, eyes still closed, opening up more of his body to the wandering fingers, which first traced up his neck and around his ears before they began mussing his hair, massaging his scalp. They wandered south again, tracing over his lips—pulling them apart for just a moment—and down his neck to his chest.

His mind still groggy, his eyes still closed, he felt his cock—hard already with morning wood—pulse eagerly. The fingers continued to explore his body, caressing through the curls of his chest hair, circling and teasing his nipples, and occasionally drifting down over his abdomen to trace just above the elastic of his boxer-briefs before coasting back up to his chest, sending ripples of pleasure across his skin.

As the tickling caresses continued, Ben began to react more and more to their wandering: his abs tightening as they traced across them, his erection pulsing sakarya escort against his boxer briefs each time the fingers teased closer to his groin. He let out another pleased moan, smiling, as the tickling fingers swooped down and started caressing his cock through the soft, thin material of his boxer briefs. Instinctively his buttocks tightened, lifting his cock into the teasing hands as they explored every inch of it, fluttering across the head, sliding down the shaft, and tickling at his balls.

“Good morning, babe,” Vic’s voice whispered into Ben’s ear, “I hope you’re feeling better?”

Hearing her voice, the haze of sleep started to lift off of him. He fluttered his eyes open to see Vic, kneeling on the floor next to the couch, leaning over him. She had peeled the comforter back off of him so that she could get at his body, and her big blue eyes were looking in to his, practically oozing concern and arousal at the same time. She was wearing an old white t-shirt of his, which she had cut up into a flimsy pajama top that hung off of one shoulder; it was nearly see-through, and he could tell from the heavy shapes of her breasts and the prominent dark bumps of her nipples pressing against the shirt that she wasn’t wearing a bra.

“Mmmm,” Ben answered noncommittally—he remembered everything, her lies, her cheating—but she was also very good with her hands…and her mouth…and everything else.

“I don’t know what made you stay out here on the couch, but I’m glad I’m going to have you here all weekend,” she said seductively, slipping a hand up the leg of his underwear to finally touch his pulsing cock directly with her dexterous fingers, “I started some coffee for you, and make some breakfast, but I then I saw you lying here and well…couldn’t resist.”

Ben gasped as she pried down his underwear with her free hand, sliding the other out of the leg and then reaching down to wrap around his girth, pulling his cock into the open and starting to pump in earnest, lubricated by the generous pre come she had coaxed out of him up to this point.

“I thought I’d start out slow…but I was thinking…maybe this weekend we could check a few items off of our little list?”

Ben didn’t have the presence of mind to respond to that—but he did have a sudden urge to push her face into his crotch. Normally he would have resisted such an urge, but he wasn’t feeling any compassion for her anymore, just pure animal lust. He reached out and grabbed the back of her head by the hair, and pushed her face into his dick. She resisted for a second before she figured out what he was doing and giggled and let him press her face up against his length, still pumping him with one hand. His cock bounced off of her lips, cheek, and nose, leaving a little trail of sticky pre come on her face as she continued to jack his throbbing cock.

“Feeling a little impatient today, babe?”

Ben grunted an affirmative, and she shrugged and gulped him down in one quick motion, still pumping at the base of his cock with her hand. Once her mouth had enveloped him, Ben thrust into her, and hand still on the back of her head, started pushing her down on him as he thrust, feeling the tightening flesh of her throat as she gagged loudly, but didn’t resist, instead matching the rhythm of his thrusts and reaching her free hand down to tickle his balls.

With his hand on her head, he pushed her down faster and faster, barley giving her time to gasp for air as he felt himself getting closer and closer to the edge. Her breasts were bouncing around wildly under her shirt with the frantic motion, slapping against his thigh as she gargled and bobbed on his cock over and over again.

After several minutes, she let out a loud cough and wrenched herself off of him, and he relented the pressure on the back of her head reluctantly. Pre come and saliva were dripping from her mouth as she gasped for breath, still pumping his cock with her right hand as she recovered, grinning lustily.

“I like this new Ben,” she voiced wickedly, “so assertive.”

She started to lean towards his cock again, stuck out her tongue and licked the tip as she continued to pump her hand up and down his length. Ben reached out with his hand, this time grabbing the loose neck of her makeshift shirt, and pulled it down to reveal her left breast—pulling so hard that she shirt tore open wider. She grinned as she licked the tip of his cock, and he pulled again, tearing the shirt into rags, revealing both of her pendulous tits as they wiggled with the rhythm of her arm.

“You miss these?” she said between licks, thrusting her chest out proudly.

Ben grunted in affirmative, grabbing the closest breast roughly, squeezing the firm flesh hungrily. She took a break from licking his cock to angle it into her other breast, sliding its head around her tit as her hand kept working his length. The lubrication of his pre come and her saliva made his cock van escort slip and slide around the surface of her breast, bumping against her nipple or sliding into her cleavage with every pump while she just looked at him with a grin.

“You don’t need to worry about me, babe. After last night, I owe you,” she said, waggling her eyebrows; Ben dimly realized that for her, it had only been a single night since he had spent an hour with his face between her legs, but since it had been before this loop had started, it was days past for him.

Her rhythm had slowed down, as she smiled at him, sliding his cock around her breast as he squeezed the other, and Ben realized that he was getting impatient. he started thrusting his hips into her hand and breast, and she responded by pulling on his cock faster again—but that wasn’t enough, so he released her breast to again grab the back of her head and press it towards his raging, slippery cock.

Vic took the hint, eagerly gargling his cock deep into her throat again, gagging as he thrust deeper and deeper, faster and faster. Her naked breasts were bouncing and flapping wildly now as she attacked his cock, putting her whole body into the frantic bobbing that he was driving with his hand on the back of her head. He started to moan unconsciously, feeling the swelling pleasure build more and more with each thrust into her throat.

Finally, his bucking became a spasming shudder as he started spraying load after load into her mouth, losing the strength in his hand to keep forcing her down on him, but she kept up the pace nonetheless, letting his come splatter out of her mouth, all over the two of them as she bobbed on his cock again and again until his last load has plastered the back of her throat and splattered out of her mouth. After finishing him off, Vic cheerfully lapped up every spot of cum that had splattered onto Ben’s thighs and stomach before bouncing off to take a shower.

Ben spent the rest of the morning being quietly pampered by Vic. He didn’t talk to her much, stewing on everything that he knew, but he didn’t say no to her attention either. She tried to get him to say why he had stayed home—and why he had slept on the couch—several times, but he deflected her, not having the energy to breakup with her again, and not having any other explanation that made any sense.

It was a difficult situation—he had gone through the breakup, he had stormed away from her car and spent the rest of the day ignoring her calls, texts, and any other attempt at contacting him—but then he had woken up right back next to her, and she had no memory of any of it. If this was going to keep up, Ben knew he was going to have to find some way to get through the morning without rehashing an argument or just ignoring what he knew—but until he figured that out, he wasn’t going to put himself through a breakup every day. He just couldn’t do it.

Ben’s original intent had been to try and just give her the cold shoulder—interact with her as little as possible as he tried to figure out more about this whole day that he was being forced to relive—but that plan had gone to hell pretty quickly when she had starting stroking his cock before he was even fully conscious, and now he felt weak and stupid and wronged and guilty all at the same time. He could breakup with her again at any time—but then again, he had already let her suck him off, make him breakfast and coffee, why stop now? He had already botched the whole “cold shoulder” thing, might as well ride it out?

Ben shook his head, trying to clear his mind of the emotional turmoil that was preying on his thoughts. It didn’t matter. It shouldn’t matter. He needed to rise above these petty issues and address the real problem: he was in some sort of Groundhog-Day-style time loop, and he needed to figure out how, and why, and what he needed to do to get out of it. It was just past noon, and Vic was in the other room now, watching some youtube video about archery—one of her more eclectic interests—while folding her laundry, and Ben was sitting at his desk, laptop in front of him, wondering what he could possibly type into the search bar to get some useful insight.

The straightforward attempt—’how to end time loop’ or ‘best way to make money Groundhog Day’—didn’t give him much that was useful. Though he was experiencing something that felt an awful lot like the plot of a movie, he had pretty big doubts that the power of true love was going to fix space-time, and other than that it seemed that he was down to doing something involving Star Trek technology or letting the aliens from that Tom Cruise movie bleed him out, and since he had access to neither dilithium crystals nor alien blood, those both seemed just as unhelpful as becoming a better man and seducing Andie MacDowell.

“Babe?”

Ben looked up from his computer to see Vic standing in the doorway, dressed in a pair of his red plaid pajama bottoms and one of her black sports bras. She really did look good in just about everything.

“Huh?”

“How are you feeling?” she asked with what appeared to be genuine concern, “I can tell there’s something you don’t want to talk about but—”

“I’m ok,” Ben lied, closing his laptop, “I’m just having a weird day. Don’t worry about me.”

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