Ay: Eylül 2025

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The journey from the site of the crash to the Ottoman Empire was a long one. The captain maintained a high altitude to keep them safe from the clutches of any Russian Empire airships, except Lady Sally insisted on flying low over Kiev to appreciate the glittering, gold domes of its many churches.

When she wasn’t entertaining herself with her slaves, she often stood at the great glass window in her playroom gazing at the clouds as they flew past below her, or admiring the scenery from afar as the patchwork fields and villages sped by.

They passed over the Crimea and then turned south-west across the Black Sea, heading towards Istanbul. They covered the final stretch in the early hours of the morning, and Lady Sally got up at dawn, taking up a place at the front of the gondola to gaze upon the sun rising, and the approaching minarets of Istanbul.

She sighed, wrapping her silk dressing gown around her, whilst still allowing for a peek of cleavage, “This is a magnificent view is it not?”

The captain’s eyes could not fail to stray to Lady Sally’s breasts, “It certainly is,” he agreed.

As the airship slowed to make her descent, they both admired the sun dancing on the blue waters of the Black Sea, and the view of the isthmus on which the exotic city of Istanbul perched.

Although the Ottoman Empire had experienced grander days and was past its peak, it was still the point where eastern and western trading routes met. It required careful manoeuvring because, as well as being a busy airship station, it was a chaotic one. The captain weaved the giant dirigible through the traffic of airships from across Europe and the Far East to seek out an empty mooring mast with enough space to accommodate the vast bulk of The Corseted Domme.

He saw from the cockpit how Lady Sally’s airship was causing a stir. He flew low and watched the awe struck looks and excited waves as the giant, silver dirigible circled around the airship station looking for a berth. Lady Sally, who had retired to get dressed ready for her shopping expedition, would have been pleased to see the furore her airship was creating. Eventually, he found a suitable mooring mast, and the rigger-men hooked up the lines from the tip of the airship to pull her in. After the enforced landing in the Russian Steppes it was good to have her secured to a proper mast. The captain was relieved to find hydrogen filling stations so the air bags could be refilled.

The people of Istanbul had never seen an airship as huge and magnificent as The Corseted Domme. A crowd gathered at the foot of the mooring mast to find out who owned this most magnificent of dirigibles. There were men in turbans, women with their heads covered in silk scarves, and bare-foot children. By the time the party were ready to disembark, an impromptu market had formed around the airship, the merchants not wishing to miss an opportunity to sell their wares.

When Lady Sally emerged, she was the perfect image of the calm, implacable, Edwardian gentlewoman in the midst of the scene of chaos that now surrounded the airship. As soon as they stepped out of mooring tower they were greeted with a blast of heat. Of course, Lady Sally was prepared, having insisted on taking most of her wardrobe, including her summer dresses. She was in an elegant, cotton dress in cream, which displayed her hour-glass figure to perfection. Perched on her head was a wide-brimmed hat secured by a wide bow of material tied under her chin.

Victoria, sweltering ordu escort in her maid’s dress, huge bustle and layers of petticoats followed with a large fan to cool her mistress down. The captain who had brought no wardrobe with him whatsoever was in his working clothes, his normal white roll neck jumper and flying boots. Luckily, his wide-brimmed fedora hat shielded his face from the sun, but he still looked distinctly uncomfortable in the scorching heat.

A crowd gathered around the party, and they were welcomed with cheers and waves. The children were as excited as those back in Yorkshire who greeted the launch of The Corseted Domme. They were familiar with airships but had never seen anything as grand as this.

At first Lady Sally felt pleased at the welcome she received, but as the crowd bustled around her, she soon changed her mind.

A kebab was thrust in her face, “Lady… you want kebab. Good kebab. Good price…”

A hand covered in jewellery waved in front of her, “Lady… you want bangle. Finest silver. Two for one, good price.”

Offers of food and goods were tolerable though barely; other offers were definitely not.

“Lady… you want man, give you good fucky. Come with me. Good price.”

“Lady… you want fanny sucky. I take you. How much you offer for good fanny sucky.”

The attention soon became wearisome, and Lady Sally was relieved to be approached by Mustafa Shagazade’s man with a steam-driven carriage to transport them to the Grand Bazaar. There was a full entourage as the men, dressed in smart linen suits, were required to help carry Lady Sally’s shopping. The carriage was laden with several trunks, for the safe packing of said shopping. The captain, melting in his roll neck jumper, was extremely envious of the cool suits. He wanted to stay behind and supervise the filling of the hydrogen bags, but Lady Sally insisted all available hands were needed for the shopping expedition.

They were dropped off at the merchant’s offices off Sultanahanet Square in the heart of the old city. This was Lady Sally’s first visit to Istanbul, and she was thrilled to be there. She had travelled to Samarkand before, to seek out a special weave of silk with aphrodisiac properties she had read about in the third Earl of Rudston’s journal, and to discover more about her silk route heritage. She loved the exoticism and sensuality of the east.

Mustafa Shagazade was a portly middle-aged gentleman with a black moustache that curled up at its ends, dressed in a turban and light blue kaftan

“Ah, Mr Mustafa, how delightful to meet you after all these years. I trust business is good.”

“Lady Sally, it’s a pleasure,” he enthused, whilst lasciviously eyeing up her perfect figure and abundant décolletage bursting out of the cotton dress. “But I’m afraid to say business is only average. There is less trade going across land along the silk route, and more being transported by airship. There’s now an airship route direct from Ishfahan to Berlin, bypassing Istanbul. And then there’s been the Balkan Wars, and the threat of new wars…”

“Oh, I’m terribly sorry to hear that,” offered Lady Sally.

“I know you are here for the shopping, so let me be your guide around the bazaar. But first you must join me in a glass of mint tea.”

“That would be delightful, Mr Mustafa,” replied Lady Sally with alacrity. It may not be China or Indian tea, but it was still tea, and mint tea was exceedingly refreshing. At least osmaniye escort he was well enough acquainted with her tastes not to offer her Turkish coffee, which would have been simply vile.

The party settled onto the divans outside the merchant’s trading emporium. They were served glasses of mint tea from a huge silver pot and accompanied by sugared almonds. They reclined on the seats to sip the sweet liquid.

“Please, Lady Sally, before we go into the bazaar, let me offer you a delicacy of the region.”

A servant brought out a brass bowl containing an unappealing ball of meat swimming in a thin, white fluid. Lady Sally did not wish to offend her generous host by declining it, but had no intention of sampling it.

“Oh, but my maid tastes my food for me. You see, I’m afraid I have such a delicate stomach, and she will judge if it’s too rich for me.”,

Victoria looked on horrified at the brown lump of gristly meat in the dish but, nonetheless, obediently took a mouthful. Lady Sally smiled wickedly as she saw her maid’s expression.

“May I ask what the dish is made of?” she enquired.

“Why yes, Lady Sally, it’s horse testicle braised in ewe’s milk infused with cardamom pods. It’s a speciality of the region.”

“Oh my, but that sounds simply delightful, Mr Mustafa. I’m just so sorry my delicate English stomach will not allow me to partake of any. You must jot the recipe down for me and I’ll give it to cook.”

The captain chuckled. He could imagine cook’s reaction to such a recipe, and she might just have the nerve to tell Lady Sally where to shove her horse’s testicle!

The entourage headed for The Grand Bazaar with the four gentlemen, Victoria and the captain carrying three huge chests between them, brought on her travels specifically for this purpose.

The Grand Bazaar was a huge covered market of massive colonnades with a network of smaller passages leading from them. The captain, for one, was relieved to get under cover out of the searing heat of the sun. The market was jammed full of crafts and antiques of every description.

“Now, Mr Mustafa, I am minded to build a Turkish bath in one of the ante rooms in Rudston Hall. I’ve already sourced a company that can supply the heating system back in England, but what I require are authentic Turkish majolica tiles.”

“I know just the stall for you.”

She pulled out a piece of paper with a sketch showing the dimensions of the room in question. After a brief discussion with the stallholder about the number of tiles required, she set about choosing from the abundant range of beautifully glazed blue, green, turquoise, yellow and white tiles with geometric patterns in the Islamic style. Having made her choice and negotiated a good deal on such a huge quantity, she paid and instructed the trader to have the tiles delivered direct to The Corseted Domme forthwith. The men let out a collective sigh of relief at this point as they had visions of having to cart thousands of heavy tiles back to the airship themselves.

Lady Sally was an organised and ruthless shopper. She had a vision for what she needed and set about her purchases with determination. She was also a tough negotiator and bartered hard with the traders to get a good, and fair, price. This was, of course, only what they would have expected, but if they thought this rich, aristocratic English woman was going to be a soft touch, that illusion was soon dispelled. Lady Sally used a sinop escort combination of hard bargaining skills, along with her undoubted charm, to secure a good price.

They went from block to block in the bazaar, each zone specialising in a particular craft. She wanted hand-woven Turkish rugs and bought several of them, with brightly coloured geometric patterns. She purchased ceramics, copper bowls, hukkah pipes, silver tea pots, decorated glasses and lamps. That was before she even got to the section selling materials and clothing where she bought silks, cottons, kaftans, gowns, silk slippers and an abundant supply of silver jewellery. Then there were the spices and incenses, and last, but not least the teas. There were stalls selling a vast range of teas, many blends she was familiar with, but she also purchased pomegranate and jasmine teas, which she’d never tried before.

The chests filled up quickly, and it wasn’t long before the six men found themselves carting the laden trunks around the bazaar with them. Lady Sally shopped like a whirling dervish, and it wasn’t until it was time for tea that she finally stopped.

They retired to a tea shop recommended by Mr Mustafa. Lady Sally was sipping green tea whilst inhaling enormous drafts of smoke from a huge hukkah pipe. She was in a good mood… an exceedingly good mood.

She was giggling manically and telling them tales of her colourful past.

“Did I tell you about the time in Samarkand when I got fucked on the tomb of Tamerlane the Magnificent by my silk merchant?” she announced, proceeding to relate the story in graphic detail.

Then she told them about her poison garden at Rudston Hall, and how she’d fucked her gardener, and about how she punished Lord Melchiot on her automaton horse.

She was in fits of giggles.

“Oh, I’ve had such marvellous adventures.” She turned to the merchant, “So tell me, Mr Mustafa, is this what is called ‘hashish’?”

“Yes, Lady Sally, the very finest… and potent.”

“Well, I must say, this is wonderful stuff. My last purchase will be to stock up with some to take back to England.”

By now the whole party was well and truly stoned, except for Victoria, who had a ‘gippy’ stomach from the horse’s testicle, and had declined the offer of smoking hashish. In between reclining on the divans collapsed in a constant state of giggles, they managed to demolish a huge plate of flatbreads, lamb kebabs, chickpea dip, dates and other delicacies.

A young, veiled woman approached them.

“Come here, my dear,” called Lady Sally. “What a lovely necklace. It’s so shiny. Oh, my goodness, I’ve never seen anything so shiny! I don’t think my poor eyes can stand the brightness.”

“Please, are you the famous English lady, Lady Sally Rudston-Chichester?”

Lady Sally was not averse to bit of flattery, “Oh, famous, well yes, naturally my reputation does proceed me.”

“I’ve read about you in the Istanbul Sun. You are a strong lady who will stand up to males and protect women. I have come to plead for your help.”

Victoria’s ears pricked up. Alarm bells rang.

“Yes, do tell me more,” Lady Sally encouraged.

“My name is Nisrahur. You see, my sister has been picked up from the streets by the sultan’s guards where she has been taken to his harem as a slave. I know the girls are badly mistreated. I was hoping a lady of your standing could negotiate with the sultan to get her released.”

“I will do better than that,” exclaimed Lady Sally. “I will rescue her!”

Her maid tried to intervene, “Madam, is this wise? This could end up as a disaster. I see more explosions and being chased out of Istanbul.”

“Victoria, let it not be said Lady Sally Rudston-Chichester will not leap to the defence of her sex for a noble cause.”

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

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

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

The village was relatively quiet. Maquessa strode down one side of the street gazing in the store windows. Not surprisingly many of them bore signs stating that the shops would reopen later in the day. A few grumbles could be heard from other potential patrons, but none seemed to be overly irate about the situation. A number of people in the local area shut down their business when the Ninth Brigade stopped near the village for a recreational leave. Male or female, a number of the villagers had already attempted to catch her eye.

Standing at six foot even, the young Captain of the Ninth had blonde hair to her shoulders and soft green eyes. While some of the male villagers had their eyes fixed firmly on her bosom, the village women rather brazenly kept their eyes somewhat lower. Not that she minded. She knew behind the locked doors of a number of those store windows, her soldiers were entertaining themselves. By the time they rolled out to resume their patrols the villagers would be more than sated and ready to resume their normal lives. She had something special in mind for herself though. As yet another of the young village women endeavored to catch her eye she politely took her leave and continued past the last of the houses at the village edge.

As her long legs carried her up the hillside path she inadvertently gazed back towards the hills on the other end of the village. She knew the tanks were secured under their netting and with the guards standing nearby. Knowing the ones she had picked they were probably engaged in a similar fashion as those in the village proper. She was willing to let it slide, however, since the area was a well pacified one. A low sound came from ahead of her and her step quickened just a bit as the dairy came into view. A few milk cows ambled about in a fenced in pasture. Most of the milk came from other farms, but Deliah still insisted on keeping a few herself.

Well known in the region for the quality of milk it sold, Deliah’s Dairy was one stop Maquessa always made when they stopped in town. She had just lifted her hand to knock on the stout wooden door when it pulled open to reveal a rather plump matronly woman. Deliah wore a sexy little smile on her lips as she stepped back to admit the captain. Her eyes sparkled with the promise of their play, having already heard about the Ninth stopping in the village below.

“I was beginning to think you had forgotten me.” she said with a pretty little pout to her lips.

Maquessa took off her cap to dangle from a nearby hat rack. A smile quirked the corners of her lips as the faint sounds of the milking room reached her ears. While Deliah may have been nearly a dozen years her senior, and probably thirty pounds or so too plump for most, both knew the captain wasn’t likely to forget about her. As the door clicked shut, Maq slipped an arm around Deliah and together they started through the dairy.

“Now you know you were my first stop when we got here.” Maq chided with an amused grin.

She was looking forward to their time together as well. Of course, as they passed the milking room, she couldn’t help but glance inside. While the bulk of the milk sold by the dairy came from cows, whether raised by Deliah or obtained from local farms, it was the special milk that had kept the dairy on the map. The gasping moans from the milkmaids was louder there in the doorway. Perhaps two dozen girls filled the room, in various stages of orgasmic pleasure. Sucking noises filled the air as each girl writhed in her device.

Some were bent over on hands and knees, gags filling their mouths as the cups on their nipples drew forth their sweet breast milk. Others were seated in a chair with legs spread wide and a silken dildo plunging repeatedly into them from below as their milk was karaman escort harvested. Maquessa felt herself stiffen at the lewd display and Deliah slid her fingers down to feel with a throaty chuckle.

“You certainly do have a thing for the milkmaids, don’t you? Must be why you enjoy me so much.”

Maq pulled the older woman close in her excitement. She had learned on their first meeting that Deliah had been a milkmaid like these girls in her youth. She still strapped herself in to harvest her own milk regularly. As the pair watched, Deliah with a hand slid into Maq’s trousers, one of the girls sank limply on her device. The jug beneath her was half full as she panted softly. An attendant rushed over to disable the machine and loosen her bindings. As the girl slid to the floor to catch her breath, it was hard to miss the glistening nine inches that slid out of her pussy. Maq’s breath was husky as Deliah stroked her, and she pulled away from the door to the nearby stairs.

With a giggle, the plump woman gave her cock a squeeze and pulled away to run up the stairs. Maq was swift behind her and close enough to give the wiggling bum a soft slap. The noises of the milking room faded behind them as they approached Deliah’s private room. She was shucking off her dress as Maq came in the door and the younger woman paused to let her hungry gaze feast on the expanse of flesh put on display as Deliah’s dress hit the floor. A few marks of childbirth marked her belly from a past childbirth. The next to hit the floor was her bra and the older woman’s pendulous breasts swung free. She stuck her tongue out in Maq’s direction and lay back on the bed.

As the captain fumbled with her buttons she could clearly see a drop of milk gleaming from one dusky nipple. Her cock was throbbing from the teasing and spectacle of the milking room. The younger woman was quickly ready and approached the bed as Deliah smiled at her.

“Always standing at attention, you soldiers.”

She grinned and reached out to grip the base of Maq’s shaft, using it to pull the younger woman to her. Their lips met in a deep kiss with dancing tongues. As their breasts pressed and rubbed together, Maq could feel the slick milk leaking and coating her skin. This only led to her throbbing harder in Deliah’s grasp.

“With you, yes I am. Though you should know that well enough by now.”

Deliah let out a sigh as Maq kissed down her chin and throat until she could trap a firm nipple between her lips. The first taste of her milk was always the sweetest as Maq was always quick to tell her. She reached up to stroke her fingers through Maquessa’s soft hair while the younger girl filled her mouth with warm milk. It was several gulping moments before Maq came up for air and another sensual kiss. Her eyes were slightly glazed with lust as she took in the sight of Deliah lying naked beneath her.

“I’m going to have to arrange more patrols to pass near the village.”

With a throaty sensual laugh Deliah pulled her down for a kiss. Their tongues slid together and over one another as Maq began to leak her own fluid on the older woman’s heated skin, albeit slightly lower than her breasts. Slender fingernails slid delicately down Deliah’s thigh and then up again. The kiss turned into a gasp as one digit penetrated the hot depths. Unable to wait longer and eager for her first taste of their lovemaking, Maq slid around and buried her face between Deliah’s plump thighs. The older woman’s arousal caused her nostrils to flare.

First one lick, then another, and she was burying her tongue in the hot pussy spread before her. The musky feminine odor was one of the most potent aphrodisiacs she had ever known and she relished the taste as she explored the steamy pussy. kars escort Deliah let her knees fall open and tried not to shudder as the feelings and sparks the younger woman’s tongue struck within her. A throaty moan escaped her lips as she reached to fondle the heavy orbs resting on Maq’s thigh. A little shift of her shoulders and she was final able to get her first taste of cock. The precum slicked her tongue as she lapped softly at it and she used her fingers to fondle and tease the weighty orbs resting on Maq’s thigh.

The scent of the younger woman’s aroused pussy reached her as she fondled the orbs and impishly she slid a finger behind the balls to plunge inside. Maquessa jumped with a gasp of surprise and Deliah let out a sexy laugh. The captain slid back around to kiss her hotly and wag a finger.

“Naughty naughty!”

Both knew full well out stimulated Maq could get when her balls and pussy were played with together. Deliah licked her lips and grabbed at the smooth hips of the younger woman. A tug and she had engulfed several inches of hot cock in her hot mouth. Her tastebuds came alive as she more fully tasted the rigid cock and her eyes gazed up to meet Maquessa’s. It was a bit hard with the soft tits jiggling on the captain’s chest. The captain was fondling one nipple as she slowly fucked into the warmth of Deliah’s mouth. The older woman had tried to coax her into becoming a milkmaid after her time in the army on more than one occasion.

Her cock throbbed as she fed several more inches into the woman’s mouth. No gag reflex meant she could easily handle the eight fat inches and she proved it again every time they were in bed together. Only a few moments of sucking were enough for her nose to bury in Maquessa’s pubic hair. The soft blonde hairs tickled her nose as she felt the pulsing head caress the depths of her throat. The older woman reached down to squeeze and pull at her own nipples as she gulped on the hot cock teasing her senses. Her pussy was leaking copiously on the bed, more than ready for the fucking she knew was to come. Until then, she settled for coating her fingers in her own breast milk.

Once they were adequately lubricated, she slid her hand down lower to push milking fingers into the captain’s pussy. The cock filling her mouth swelled as she began a slow finger fuck of her young lover. Maq didn’t pull away this time and instead began to rock her hips against Deliah’s probing fingers. The two had often played games with Deliah’s breast milk and thoroughly enjoyed every moment of it. One of Maquessa’s favorites was to fill Deliah’s pussy with it and then drink it back from within her slick depths. She claimed it added a richer taste.

As two fingers invaded her pussy, the young captain knew she was about to flood Deliah’s throat with her creamy sperm. She leaned over to brace herself on the bed and started to hump her hips. Her swollen cock fucked in and out of the older woman’s throat. For her part, Deliah just kept her mouth wide as she continued the finger stimulation. The heavy meat dragged itself across her tongue and she could feel the almost constant flow of precum sliding down the back of her throat. Her nostrils flared as her own orgasm built in rising waves. The captain’s first orgasm was always quick and potent. The only warning she had was the swift retreat of the thick organ.

Her eyes gazing up once more, she felt spurt after creamy spurt erupt onto her tongue. Maq knew how much she loved this special milk and enjoyed rolling it about on her tongue. Warmth filled her mouth as the cock finally withdrew and glistened wetly with her saliva. Deliah luxuriated in the masculine flavor of the semen on her tongue, yet with an undeniably female quality to it. She bathed her kıbrıs escort tongue in the hot semen until she could control herself no longer and gulped it down. The creamy fluid coated her throat as it flowed downward and her eyes sparkled as she gazed up into the stunning green eyes that had first drawn her to her younger lover.

“I swear I need to get me some milkmaids that can produce milk like that.”

Maq chuckled and slid to rest beside her lover, kissing her glistening lips. Her rigid cock rested on Deliah’s thigh, leaving a slick trail of fluid there. She only needed a moment to recover herself before she pulled her lover close and kissed her more insistently. Deliah’s hunger matched her own and the plump woman was already pulling her to rest on top of her soft body. Fingers trailed down Maq’s smooth body until they raked fingernails lightly across her bum. Softly she nibbled her way down Deliah’s neck as her thick cock nuzzled the entrance to her pussy.

“You do and I think you’ll become an even more popular dairy than you are now.”

It was a discussion they had held in the past, as they rested in one another’s arms after their intense lovemaking sessions. Maq figured they would again, though for now more pressing matters demanded their attention. As the head of her cock kissed the glistening wet depths of Deliah’s hot pussy, she plunged inside. The older woman gasped in delighted surprise as she felt herself spread open to take in the thick girth and she wrapped her legs as best she was able around Maq. The two kissed again as the pressure from Maq’s breasts caused her own to leak milk to further coat their soft skin. The entire bed was rocking and bumping lightly into the wall as Maq pumped her hips to repeatedly drive her cock deep inside Deliah’s steaming pussy.

Panting and breathing heavily the former milkmaid caressed and stroked Maq’s back as her hips rocked up to meet the deepening thrusts. She groaned as she felt the heavy balls slapping against her wet flesh. Deliah’s back arched up off the bed as her first orgasm of the evening struck, causing her breasts and body to jiggle and shake from the intensity of it. A gasping cry erupted from her lips, not unlike that of the girls from the milking room down below. Unlike most of them, however, Deliah’s cry was accompanied by a gleaming spurt of fluid that struggled to make it past the thick cock inside her. Maquessa’s thighs and balls were coated with the sweet creamy girlcum that Deliah always made when they were together.

It was enough to draw a growl of delight from the younger woman who only began to thrust more intently up inside Deliah’s slick depths. Deliah was losing herself in the pleasure of the moment and lay back moaning on the pillow and trying to catch her breath as several other smaller orgasms rippled through her. All she could do was slide her hands down to grasp the captain’s ass as she fucked into her.

Maq panted above Deliah, loving the scents filling the air. The first time the older woman’s pussy had squirted, she had been licking and using her tongue to fuck in and out, she had almost shot her load all over the bedspread. The thought of that sweet cum spraying across her face and tongue was too much for her. A gasping cry erupted from her lips as she sank herself deep inside to spurt in Deliah’s pussy. Wad after thick wad of cum shot from her throbbing cock to coat the woman’s inner walls. Beneath her Deliah cried out in pleasure as she came with her lover. Her arms and legs wrapped tightly around Maq’s body as she shook from it.

Sweat glistened on both naked bodies as Maq lowered herself to kiss Deliah’s rosy lips. Only then did the captain shift to lie beside her on the bed. Her cock remained buried to the hilt inside her, their fluids mingling and partially coating the spread beneath them. Deliah nestled in Maquessa’s arms and idly fondled one of her nipples. A twitch of the cock within drew a smile to her lips. Young soldiers always had the best stamina, and the Ninth Brigade more than most. It was going to be a long night.

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Chapter 36

“Oh, gawd,” Lucia groaned as she waddled bow-legged into the motel room. “The bike is fun but man, crouching like that for hours takes its toll.”

“That won’t be good for the baby. You’d better get your kicks now on that crotch-rocket before it grows big.”

“Uh, what?”

Sibyl blinked a moment, then realized the not-so-subtle double-entendre that had come with her dated slang. “I meant the motorcycle, a crotch-rocket! And your baby, when it grows big.”

“Oh! I thought you were… never mind.”

Sibyl chuckled softly as she dragged her suitcase into the corner of the room. “Get your mind out of the gutter.”

“Well, your statement held true, the way I first understood it.” Lucia approached Sibyl from behind as she spoke, and once she was close enough she lightly draped her arms around the clone’s hips. At that touch, that missed but not forgotten closeness, Sibyl’s heart quickened.

“Oh?”

“Mhmm. Before baby gets big… I can still get my kicks.”

Sibyl turned in her arms, pressing their bodies bust-to-bust. “I… I wasn’t sure if you’d want that anymore. Not now that who I was is out in the open between us.”

“It doesn’t make a difference to me,” Lucia said, more quietly. Her breath was hot against Sibyl’s lips. “It doesn’t have to change anything between us.”

“Oh, Lucia.”

She smiled softly. Sibyl melted against her, touching their lips together as she wrapped her arms around her shoulders. Lucia leaned into that little kiss, pleased but not at all surprised at her reaction. As their tongues joined Sibyl’s hands dropped down to lift and knead her marvellous cheeks. Inspired by that heated touch Lucia flicked her motorcycle jacket off her shoulders and waved it off of her arms, revealing the white belly top she’d worn beneath. There was of course no sign of her baby yet; her stomach was trim and toned.

The blonde goddess’ slender hands rose higher, tracing their way over every dip and graceful rise of Lucia’s primed figure to settle on the sides of her bust, as she had craved to do during the entire long ride down the highway. Pulling out of their kiss to gain some room, Lucia took Sibyl’s hands and brought them up front to fully grasp the recently augmented pair.

“Do you like what I’ve become?”

“Oh god yes. You were always so beautiful, but now,” Sibyl squeezed and kneaded, and was beginning to grow red in the cheeks and weak in the knees, “you’re perfection.”

“That’ll make two of us then.” Lucia again kissed, and her hand dipped low to grasp at the growing want in the blonde’s skirt. Sibyl’s hips began to rock against her touch, and soon there was hardness packed beneath the form-fitting purple fabric, pulling it out and away from the majority of her thigh. With that throbbing mass within her grip Lucia easily led her backward toward the cheap bed, which she arrived upon with a creaky bounce, still in the grips of that passionate embrace.

Their lips smacked as they parted, and Lucia got to her knees. She roughly wrenched Sibyl’s skirt down her legs, causing her magnificent endowment to rocket upwards and sway in the air between them. At the sight of it she surged forward and held it steady at the base while the pink and throbbing head came into place on her upper lip. She inhaled deeply, taking in the sensual smell of Sibyl as she rubbed that hot helmet against her mouth. “Ooh… It’s been so long on the highway, to you and now back to Arizona.” She lovingly kissed it. “I’ve just been dying for this.”

Sibyl lifted her loose black shirt up. Before she’d even had it fully off she was uttering high moans of discomforted delight, for the hot moisture of Lucia’s mouth had found its place at the tip of her cock. She tossed the shirt away and watched as the newly anointed goddess’ hand began to make the long trip up and down. She moaned again and her head lolled back. Her legs, bound at the knees by her skirt, writhed.

With a twist of her head Lucia took her deeper into her mouth, and her second hand joined the first to give slow twisting motions. “Lucia. You’ve improved!”

Within moments pre-orgasmic fluids were flowing into her mouth. She unsealed her lips slightly, letting them drizzle down Sibyl’s length and provide natural lubrication to her movements.

“Oh, that’s heavenly…”

Lucia smiled. “I was wrong to leave you so suddenly. There was just so much to do at Astro-X, they had me hooked in an instant. But I could be just for you again.”

“Mm, mm… Good, Lucia. My… my love.”

She chuckled softly. “I’ll start making it up to you tonight.” She took Sibyl back into her mouth and ramped her strokes up a notch, slipperily working every turgid inch while tonguing her sensitive leaking head.

“Hoo, ho god, that feels perfect!” Sibyl hunched forward, agonized by the sensation. She had become so confident; with those skillful sucks and strokes she was owning her! A whisper of climax already loomed near.

Lucia stopped and rose to her feet, smiling at how capable she had become. kırşehir escort Sibyl looked up to her, visibly affected by the torturous pleasure she had just endured.

“You were my first goddess, as a human.”

Relieved by the short break, Sibyl leaned forward to pull her skirt the rest of the way down her slender legs, swerving slightly to manoeuvre her face past her own towering excitement. “Mhmm.”

“You’ll be my first as a goddess as well.” She lifted her white belly top up and off, permitting Sibyl’s first look at her well endowed upper body. She then started to wriggle out of her tight jeans, revealing the full extent of the improvements to her much-adored lower half. The spectacle made Sibyl’s cock throb and nod, and pre dribbled freshly down its length.

Lucia got onto the bed over her, causing them both to sway as it bounced and creaked, sending the blonde’s immense globes into motion against her slender torso. Lucia set them still, burying her hands in them as she crawled forward to bring herself toward the end of Sibyl’s length. The heat of its underside pressed wet and hot against her as she advanced, with inch after gratuitous inch passing along her lower lips at such a painfully slow rate. I wonder if she’s like Jenn now, Sibyl thought, if she can take it all… God, hurry up! I want to be inside you!

When finally the head came into place Lucia reversed direction and began to take her in. Her back arched, catlike, as that slippery engorgement slid into her body. Neither yet knew what to expect, and so when Lucia’s bottom met Sibyl’s hips they both gasped and shared looks of amazement. Sibyl shuddered as Lucia, looking like she couldn’t believe what her changed body was letting her do, began to assume a gentle rhythm.

“Oh-ho-ho Sibyl, I love it! Your huge dick, the entire thing! Nghh!” After a few more passes she had to quicken her pace. To her and Sibyl as well, it just felt so right.

Sibyl sat up some, giving their embrace a more vertical angle. She took Lucia’s broad hips and helped her motions by pulling her downwards after each ascent. The shift in angle was hitting a wonderful place deep inside her, and her moans and squeals made Sibyl smile proudly. She began to push upward as well, further ramming that newly accessible erogenous zone.

“Oh god babe! Keep doing that!”

Still looking on proudly, Sibyl did so. It was truly a perfect moment.

Lucia went into a frenzy of furious movements. With her newfound strength and speed she was like an animal on fire! Sibyl’s demeanour shifted from one of gladness to amazement as she beheld the raw lovemaking power of Lucia the goddess, whose abdomen was whipping up and down her fourteen inches with incredible speed. “Oh my god, Lucy…”

“Yes! Yes, oh yes! Haaaa!”

“You’re amazing!

She screamed in joyful release and, with Sibyl’s cock fully buried, became still. While her limbs encircled and tightly constricted Sibyl’s body she tilted forward, and as an inseparable pair of gasping sweating bodies they collapsed back onto the bed.

Sibyl rolled Lucia over, putting her on her back. She was dying to continue but within that vice-like grip she had no hope of escaping the powerful throbs of orgasm that strangled her hungry beating length. She pushed upwards, seeking to withdraw. Only some moments later was she allowed to do so, for Lucia had finally returned from her heavenly trip.

As Sibyl pulled out Lucia watched, seeming entranced by the sight of so much glistening hardness revealing itself after its deep retreat. It was amazing what her new body could do, a body that was finally a match for Sibyl’s hyper-endowed physique! “Oh my god, this is amazing. Fuck me more Sibyl!”

“Mmh, yes!” Sibyl launched into deep thrusts that had their lower bodies pounding together with resounding smacks. Now it was her time to be the animal, to give in to her frenzied lust! The feeling of Lucia’s post-orgasmic body accepting her every inch was so fine.

“Oh god yes, give me everything! I’m going to cum again!”

With shocking speed Sibyl repetitiously plunged herself in and out of Lucia. The old bed rattled and squeaked like the suspension of an old sedan as the springs struggled to keep up with her super human motions. She wasn’t holding anything back – her full power was in play! Eventually she struck a rhythm with the cheap mattress that had Lucia’s body bouncing up into each pass, only to be slammed downward by a firm shake of her hips, again and again at still increasing speeds!

“Aghhhh! Fuck…! Me…!”

Sibyl released a feminine growl of feral bliss. Her eyelids fell shut and her gaze went distant as the all consuming pleasure of herself dribbling her love up and down against the bed overtook her. Each split-second pass and return brought her one incremental step closer to climax, and that sensation became her world.

She broke out of her reverie when a new sound met her ears: the impacts of their bodies had become thickly wet, and there malatya escort was a gentle rhythmic patter like waves of rain inside the motel room. The cum was pouring out of her and being splashed outward with each thrust! As the realization hit her an onslaught of climactic ecstasy came with it. Jarred by it, her rhythm was lost and the mattress slammed up into them, tossing them sideways to the ground below.

THUD!

“Nnnuhhhh god Lucy, yes!” Deep in the grip of orgasm Sibyl continued to ravage Lucia, who was out of breath and in awe. Her movements were growing ragged and slowing as she began to succumb to the tension in her body. Gasping in ecstasy, she grew still as she continued to unload shot after burning shot into her.

Lucia smeared her hands up Sibyl’s tense, sweat slicked back, revelling in her powerful throbs as she emptied itself into her. She lovingly encircled her body with her legs. “Oh Sibyl, babe. I love the way you fill me, it’s so perfect.”

“Oh… oh god.” Sibyl went limp against her as her hardened cock released its final spurts into her.

“We’re like, the world champions of sex!”

Sibyl chuckled softly. In a daze, she trailed kisses along her jaw. “That’s how it is now. No limitations… and it’ll only get better.”

Lucia stroked a hand through Sibyl’s golden hair. “You’re damned right about that. From now on you’re my one personal stud.”

Chapter 37

On Lucia’s insistence they arose early, before the sun could rise.

“Hold on Sib. I have an outfit you need to wear.”

“Oh?” As she slid out of bed Sibyl watched Lucia begin to dig through her bag.

“Yeah. If we want to get past security you’ll need to look like Diana. So I brought some clothes, like she would wear. Try these on.” She tossed onto the bed some brand new white denim jeans, a large pink bra and a lavender baby t-shirt.

“Oh, geez. Pants, and the tight kind too. Okay, if you insist… but I hope to god we don’t have to stop somewhere, and I get strange looks.”

“We’d get looks no matter what you wear.”

Sibyl yanked the tag off the jeans and slid her slender legs into the tight fighting fabric. With a look of distaste on her face she pulled up slowly.

“Oh no, wait,” Lucia said, placing her hand over Sibyl’s. “Try again.” She dropped that hand into her jeans, and Sibyl squeaked slightly as she fished her cock out of the pantleg and gingerly placed it in the opposite one. “She dresses to the left, not the right.”

“I… I see.”

Lucia giggled as she watched Sibyl zip up and button the jeans, packing herself in. The bulge along her thigh was flagrantly visible.

With her gaze fixed downward on it Sibyl walked toward a mirror on the wall.”Well, I guess it isn’t that bad,” she said as she looked at her reflection, tilting her hips at various angles and assessing each pose. “I kind of like how it’s all right there, as if to say, ‘this is what I am. Deal with it.'”

“You look hot, for sure. Extend your arms, please?” Lucia weaved the pink bra straps onto her arms and brought them into place, placing the large and sturdy G cups over Sibyl’s breasts “Yet another thing you don’t like to wear. Diana likes control up top.” In a brief hug she fastened the clasp and stepped away.

“It’s itchy.”

“That’s life as a woman for you.” She tossed the last article of clothing to Sibyl. “Shirt. And tie your ponytail up higher.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Once the little t-shirt was stretched onto her upper body and her hair was properly styled Sibyl again stood before the mirror, admiring her new look. Lucia had put on her motorcycle jacket and her helmet was tucked under arm, at the ready. “Let’s go.”

***

The security guard looked up from his magazine with weary eyes. Early morning post was the absolute worst! From within his booth he recognized Alene’s motorcycle. By the fringe of hazel-brown hair that escaped its female rider’s helmet he surmised that it must have been Lucia, who had run off with it earlier that week. He recognized Diana as well, who clung to her from behind.

He radioed in to the office: “We have a visitor on Alene’s bike, accompanied by Diana. I believe the visitor might be Fernandez, Lucia.”

After a moment the rider took off her helmet and waved to the security guard. “Confirmed identity of the rider. Is Lucia still allowed in?”

“Sure,” said a firm and confident woman at the other end of the line. “I don’t think that’s Diana though.”

“Uhm, with all due respect Miss Dennis, I can verify that it is.”

“Well, if you say so. Let them both in.”

With the push of a button he parted the wire fence gate.

“Aha,” Lucia whispered. “I knew we’d fool them. They probably think I’m just coming back to work.”

“And that Diana felt like hitching a ride with you, I’m sure.” Sibyl squeezed herself closer to her as they rolled deeper into the compound. She didn’t quite like the place, and returning to it gave her dark feelings. To be again in the vicinity of the other niğde escort goddesses put her at unease.

They parked the bike and dismounted. “Act natural,” Lucia said. “Like this is your home.”

“Right.” Sibyl swallowed her fear and reminded herself of the vengeance that was to be wrought. It was her time to shine. “Let’s kick some butt.”

They casually walked inside.

A couple human employees were present in the lobby but for the most part it and the halls attached to it were empty. “Looks like we timed this well. Everyone’s in bed or having their breakfast. Let’s make this a smooth operation. Come this way…”

The hallway stretched on and on. Lucia was beginning to hold her bag close – its contents were crucial to their plan, and the lab was growing near. Sibyl felt a growing rush of excitement. Their infiltration had gone smoothly so far, but she was ready for anything and willing to make it a fight.

Finally Lucia stopped at the doorway to the lab. “Here’s hoping they didn’t change the passcode… Ah. They didn’t.” The lock clicked open with a soft beep. Lucia reached into her bag and took out a pair of spray bottles. “The samples should be in the incubator. We’ll spray them down with this acid dilution and then get the hell out.”

Sibyl took her bottle and sniffed the nozzle. “Vinegar? That should do the job. Let’s go.”

At once they burst into the lab. Lucia headed straight for the incubator, with Sibyl close behind. It was empty and powered down.

“Ah. Not here.” They shared a sinking feeling as they realized their plan probably wasn’t going to go as expected. “Let’s spread out – they might already be at some other stage in the process. The samples will be in petri dishes.”

Lucia was methodically checking every machine, every refrigerator, for signs of Alene’s work, but all the equipment she checked was inactive. “Fucking hell,” she hoarsely whispered. “Where are they?”

“Ah, Lucy. I think I found them. Come here.”

She jogged over to Sibyl’s side. She was standing in front of a garbage bin, which was full of the little plastic petri dishes. They were still wet, and smelled faintly of bleach. “What… They… Did it themselves?”

“I’m afraid so,” Marla said.

Sibyl and Lucia spun around to face the doorway, where Marla stood with her arms folded beneath her bust, dressed in a velvety purple bathrobe. She appeared amused. They were agog.

“Oh, don’t freak out, darlings! I’m not going to bite. Why don’t you come over here.”

With a sigh of disappointment Lucia calmly did so, and after a hesitant moment Sibyl, trying to settle her fight-or-flight impulses, did the same.

“You’ve destroyed the samples.”

“That’s correct,” Marla said. “And I assume you and Sibyl came to do the same? How heroic!”

“Heroic, you say,” replied Lucia. “We were sure we committing a crime, or in my case some sort of treason.”

“Ah, yes, well, it’s times like this when a little communication would have come in handy! If you’d just explained yourself before you ran off with my daughter’s bike, we could have talked this over and gone about this together…”

Alene walked in. Dressed in a comfy t-shirt and jeans with her hair dishevelled, it looked like she’d only gotten out of bed minutes prior. She was calm and didn’t appear to be too surprised by the sight of Lucia or Sibyl. “Hey.”

“So what convinced you that the samples should be destroyed,” Sibyl asked. At her speaking up Marla smiled softly and looked her up and down, amused to see her dressed to fully duplicate the eldest of her daughters.

“As soon as Alene explained to me that Lucia had spoken about this with spirits during her deep sleep, I knew something had to be done. Elder goddesses speak to you during those dreams, offering you the wisdom you’ll need once you awaken to your new life. If one of my scientists is told by them that all cloning must be aborted, then we comply.”

“I’m sorry it had to be this way,” Lucia said, turning to Alene.

“I am too.” She gave an exaggerated shrug of her shoulders. “But it is what it is.”

“I suppose filling the new planet with clones would have been too easy,” Marla said. “It seems as always, for our kind, the path must be difficult. And that makes you, Sibyl, the only clone that will exist.”

She nodded. “I guess at least in that respect I can be unique.”

“So does this bring you to plan B with the new planet?” Lucia said.

Alene and Marla both grimaced and glanced sorrily at each other. “Uh, yes. Sadly, it does,” Alene said. “It seems we will have to allow… humans… to share the glory of colonization with us.”

“Though if your tenure with us has been any indication, certain humans can be depended on to do good work.” Their looks softened slightly.

“I learned from the best,” Lucia said.

The mother and daughter nodded, and each traded quick glances at Sibyl. The clone stayed silent, though she began to blush. Do they know?

“So Lucia, now that you’re like us I foresee greater opportunities for you within the company. You and Alene can be equals now, each with labs and assistants of your own.”

“That sounds like an amazing offer!” Lucia looked to Sibyl, who was in turn looking back at her, wondering how she would respond. “But… I think I might have to decline.”

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*Note* This part of the story takes place immediately after the first story. This chapter is substantially longer than the first part. I think more than twice the size of the first story. It’s my hope that it’s twice as enjoyable.

A big Thanks to Jordan Church for editing and helping me out.

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

There were a few minutes of silence.

Mercy had left us all in quite a state. I crawled over to the bench and used it to help me to my feet. I stood for a moment, hunched over with my hands on my knees, catching my breath. “That was intense.” I spoke. I don’t think I’ve ever had an orgasm as intense as that.

“I’m sorry you guys, I should have asked first if Mercy could join us fully. While we were riding back from High Tide Port, Mercy was asking me if she was still on a trial period. She was very insistent on an answer, and I couldn’t say no to her.” Alice said. She too looked flushed after her ‘washing’.

“You know… it might not be too bad to have her on the team. If not for her, we might not have survived that ambush on the road today. I know I only got lucky, there was only one who attacked me. I’m certain she saved us.” Kelsey said. Thinking it over, she certainly had a point. Mercy was intense, but she had carried our team through the last couple of quests.

“It’ll all work out. Though, maybe we should set some ground rules with her. She’s been pretty forward so far.” I said.

“Yeah, we’ll tell her what’s up. And keep her on as our muscle. Just… no more touching.” Kelsey added. Alice nodded.

There was more silence between us three as we changed and made our way into the pub. There, at the same table as last time, again with three large pitchers in front of her, sat Mercy. She looked happy as she waved us over, then downed the rest of her mug. It seemed like nothing had ever happened.

“We have some things to say Mercy.” I started and stopped there, unable to say anymore. My eyes are having a hard time looking up at her face. Kelsey nudged Alice to speak. “We’re happy to have you join our party.” She said loudly “B-but if you could p-please not be so… handsy.” She said nervously and much less loudly.

There was a moment of silence as the space seemed to fill with tension. Mercy then shattered the tension with a body-shaking laugh.

“Ladies, sit. Sorry if I was making any of you uncomfortable. I was only trying to be friendly. That’s just how they do things in the south.” She paused “Speaking of which, I’ve come up with a plan I think you’ll want to hear.” Mercy said with a big smile as she pushed out a chair and patted it with her hand.

Kelsey was the first to sit which set of a chain reaction with Alice and I following in suit. Picking up a pitcher I filled a glass for all of us.

Mercy began “The quests at this guild hall… are shit. They’re for beginners with barely any worthwhile rewards. We, are going to travel south to the Gran Stoby.” She seemed to emphasize the word ‘We’ while gesturing to all of us with her hands.

“The port city? The city of luck? Isn’t that a gambling city filled with criminals?” Alice asked concern returning to her voice. Though my heart sprang at the name. The city of luck. I loved the rush of gambling, that feeling of anticipation to see if you won or lost. Mercy certainly had my attention.

“You got that right, there’s a lot of criminals there, that’s why their guild hall has the best postings.” Mercy said. “I’ve got a few connections there too. An old friend who can get us up and operate very quickly.” She continued to down her mug, then thrust it out for one of us to fill it.

Kelsey began pouring more beer into the empty glass while asking “How far away is it? I thought it was supposed to be near the desert? Are we sure this is even a smart idea?” Kelsey just kept blurting out question after question, the pitcher in her hand was a bit shaky. She was definitely nervous.

I wasn’t the only one to pick up on this. Mercy smiled that big smile of hers “Nothing to be nervous about kitten. I used to live there and there’s ample opportunity to make something of you.” *Hiccup* “Make something of yourself, is what I meant to say.”

The table was quiet as we all thought about the plans for the future. Nothing was really keeping me here other than my friends. I was honestly very excited to finally see Gran Stoby. You’d always hear great stories of people making their fortune in Gran Stoby. I was certain that good things were heading our way. “C’mon! Let’s do it! There’s nothing keeping us, and I’ve got a gut feeling the best part of our lives is waiting there.” I said bursting with excitement. The more I thought about it, the more excited I got. It was contagious, smiles forming on everyone’s faces, most especially Mercy’s.

“It’s a little over a two-day ride if we push it.” Mercy said, answering Kelsey’s questions. “It’s fairly close to the desert. It’s a port city of the Niverdown sea. The Twisting Savanah is just a few miles east.

Alice stood up “Well, kilis escort if we are going to do this. We better get a jump at this in the morning. So, goodnight you troublemakers. I’ll see you in the morning.” With that, Kelsey also stood up. Raised her half full mug in for a cheer. “To keeping our success alive. May we never stop enjoying the journey.”

“Here, here” We clinked cups, and then bottoms up. That was nearly the last of the booze. Kelsey and Alice started for the stairs.

“Alice, don’t forget about our morning shopping trip. I’ll be getting you up extra early,” Mercy loudly said to Alice as she was nearing the stairs. She paused briefly, turned to Mercy and gave a thumbs up.

Just as I was about to also retire to my room, the same waitress arrived from the previous night to our table. Yesterday she looked cheerful and happy. Today she looked meek, eyes staying on the floor. “Can I get you anymore” She asked Mercy. I could see she had a few bruises and what looked like bite marks along her cleavage and neck.

“None for me.” I said as I started walking away.

“I hope you’re wearing my gift from last night.” I overheard Mercy say to her.

“Yes Daddy. I’m wearing it right now.” The waitress answered. My good feelings about our future adventure started to not feel so good.

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

I happen to have a reputation of being late, or the last one to arrive, but today I’m the first one at the meetup. Kelsey arrived soon after me, lugging behind a few bags of supplies we’d need for the road. “Where the hell were you?” Kelsey said. “I thought you were going to help me get the supplies. You know it’s a two-night trip.”

Maybe I wasn’t the first to arrive.

“Supplies. I’m flat broke girl. I don’t think Mercy split up our cut from yesterday.” I replied to Kelsey.

“She told me she needed it to buy supplies for us. She was talking about some project she was going to be working on during the trip.” Kelsey said back. “I had to buy this food with my own money.”

“Hey!” We heard Mercy’s voice down the road. Looking over I saw she wasn’t alone, trailing just behind her was Alice. It looked like Alice was carrying a few sacks, similar to Kelsey. Soon they were with us, and I was speechless.

“Hahaha! What’re you wearing?!” Kelsey began laughing. Her laughter rolled through to me, and I couldn’t help it, I started laughing too. I laughed so hard that my side started to hurt. Kelsey nearly fell down holding her sides. Alice was blushing, trying to block the view of herself with the bags she was holding.

“Give me those.” Mercy grabbed the sacks from Alice, further revealing her and her new outfit. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of. It’s the fashion down in Gran Stoby. You’ll fit in better wearing this. Now, I want you to show off my gift to the girls.”

Alice clasped her hands together, resting at her waist. She was wearing what looked like her normal top but cut short. Like really short. Her old top would cover her whole upper body, neck to waist and her entire arm a little past her wrists. This new one looked to cover just her shoulders and tits. Her tummy, ribcage and her arms were completely bare. There was a little slit in the middle that almost gave the impression of highlighting her large breasts. This new look did not look to be a traditional adventurer’s outfit.

Around her waist, it looked like two rectangular pieces of cloth tied to each other by a string, looking like two flags tied to each other. It was tied high on her hip and went about an inch or two above the knee. It nearly looked like a skirt, but you could see bare skin all the way up either side of her legs up to her waist. Similar to a loin cloth. It looked like she had white side tied panties on. Her old robes were colored grey and green, but these new ‘robes’ were white with red trim around the edges.

SMACK

“Fix your posture!” Mercy commanded Alice, slapping her ass.

Alice squeaked and stood up straight, with her hands unclasping and going back to rub her butt. Upon her straightening up, her top rolled back a little and I could see some under boob from her large breasts. She wasn’t wearing any support.

“Isn’t it adorable? Oh, you’re going to fit right in down there.” Mercy said with a big smile.

“Yeah. Adorable.” I said, trying to hold back laughter.

Kelsey cracked first, and we were back to rolling on the floor holding our sides with laughter. To think of how modestly dressed Alice always was, to now showing more skin out in public than most floozies.

“Enough of this, we should try and get going if we ever want to make it.” Alice tried to wrangle us in. It still took some time, but eventually we collected ourselves and made our way into the stables to rent our horses for the trip. The stable master looks displeased to be renting to us again, but since Mercy was the one doing the renting, he never brought up his displeasure.

Unlike last time we each had our own horse for this trip. “Let kırklareli escort me know if you ladies need any of that saddle cream. I’ve got a bit left, but not enough for the whole trip.” Mercy informed us before we loaded up the horses and set off. We all passed on the saddle cream, essentially saying “Maybe next time.”

The sun is shining brightly, and the birds are singing. I’ve never been super good with horses, but today I’m feeling good. We are traveling down the road in pairs, the forest surrounding us on both sides. Alice and I are up front while Mercy and Kelsey are about twenty feet behind us. I can’t help myself, I’m so excited about Gran Stoby, I keep rambling and about the gambling games I want to try. Dice, cards, spin wheels, racing. Alice for her part listens, and occasionally asks questions. I think I surprise her when I ramble out some odds and percentages, and the payouts.

Every so often I look back to see how Kelsey and Mercy are doing. Mercy looks to be working on some project. She’s got some leather materials in hand. Kelsey is on her right, barraging her with questions about her freelance history. I guess it never hurts to know more about adventuring. I know I can’t wait until we have more exciting stories to tell.

We set up our loose camp just about half a mile from the road. No need to draw attention. The routine is hammered into us, and we get our setup going rather fast. I start the fire, Kelsey collects some wood, and Alice prepares our meal for the night. As for Mercy, she is completely entranced in her project. Now that she’s off the horse, she’s able to focus on bigger parts of her leatherworking.

After eating, we sit around unwinding. Kelsey keeps on trying to come up with silly song lyrics to more popular songs. I chime in every once in a while, when I think I’ve got something funny. I don’t hit the mark too often.

“Ren, Kelsey, one of you two come here. I don’t care which one.” Mercy shouts out to us. She’s sitting a bit further away, obscured by trees. Kelsey smiles at me as she pulls out a coin. She levels it on her thumb and says, “call it in the air.”

“Heads!”

It twirls and spins before she catches it and covers it with her off hand. Slowly, she peeks at it, smiles big and shows me tails. She just knows that I can’t help but gamble over anything. “Get going loser.” She says, then heads over to see what Alice is doing.

“What’s up?” I asked Mercy. She is sitting on a stump with a lantern by her feet. We are just a bit out of range of the others. The smell of lilacs is strong around her and my body starts to react by growing hotter, I can feel my nipples getting harder.

“I need to take your measurements. I’m making some outfits for you Kelsey. I can’t have you two sticking out in Gran Stoby.” Mercy tells me as she pulls out a chunk of course rope that has markings every thumb length or so.

“Oh? Well, that’s sweet of you.” I tell her as I get closer to her. “Just spread my arms out like this?” I extend both arms horizontal to the floor. She wraps the rope around me. After a long pause, she pulls the cord down and says “Top off. I can’t get a proper measurement with it on.”

I feel my breathing halt for a second as I register what I’ve just been asked to do. Mercy notices and lunges at me, grabbing my coat and pulls me in close “Top. Off.” She says. Her face is close to mine. Even though she’s sitting and I’m standing, she’s still nearly taller than me. I gulp and start to take my coat off. I’ve got a thin shirt under, but she rolls her hand at me in a continue motion. I do, and now I’m standing a foot away from her, my tits on full display.

Deftly she pulls the rope around my waist and starts her process again. Slowly she moves the cord up to around my ribs. “Put your arms on your head.” I follow her orders. I don’t want to upset her.

“Good girl.”

The rough cord continues up and stops just above my nipples. I feel her pull the rope left and right over my already hard buds. I feel so sensitive, and the rope hurts slightly. I feel a slight tremble through my body.

“Just look at these firm little tits of yours. Mmmm and these hard tiny nipples you have.” Mercy says as she starts to cup my chest. Her hands are so large, she nearly covers my whole chest with just one hand.

“I gave you a compliment. What do you say?”

“Thank you, Mercy”

I can feel her callused fingers pinch my left tit and I can’t help but gasp. Out of reaction my hands unclasp, and I go to pull her hand away. “Don’t move,” Mercy says to me firmly as she slaps my right tit.

The whole thing has me on edge. I manage to get my hands back on top of my head, one hand holding the other. Closing my eyes, I can feel her fondling my chest for a few moments longer. Squeezing me, pinching, twisting. I feel the rope once again continue wrapping around me. It hurts a delicious pain as I feel the course rope rubbing over my hard nipples. I start to bite my lower lip as I try to hold karabük escort still and not pant and moan. It feels so good.

“Pants down. Now.” Mercy breaks my concentration with this order. I open my eyes and look into hers. She looks impatient. I better do as she says. My hands undo my belt, and without bending my knees, I pull my pants down bending at the waist. Part way down, I raise my head to look at Mercy. I’m looking straight forward into Mercy’s groin. She’s still fully clothed, but she’s sitting with her legs spread on the stump, elbows on knees. I think she noticed my stopping and staring. She gives me a firm tap on the top of the head, getting me to continue.

I stand up straight, pants pooled at my feet, hands back on my head. I’m still wearing my panties and boots, but I’m naked otherwise. Mercy again wraps the rope around my waist, constantly loosening and adjusting as she moves downward. Soon the rope is around the widest part of my butt, and her hands are against one another right in front of my vagina. I feel her cinch the rope harder, pulling me in closer, and her knuckle presses up against my sensitive privates.

I don’t know if she heard my oofs and ahhs, but she continued pulling and releasing. This feels so good. I can feel a fire rapidly growing inside me.

“You’re getting all wet, you horny little girl.” Mercy says. She stops teasing me. “I can feel it through these panties of yours.” She gives up the rope from her right hand and starts rubbing the knuckle of her index finger between the folds of my lower lips, over my now wet panties.

I didn’t know what to say. What can I say? I squeeze my eyes close and try to calm myself. I don’t want to send her the wrong signals.

Her free hand reaches around to grope my butt. The stimulation from her finger and the strong squeezing, not to mention the smell of lilacs, puts me in a daze. I am starting to feel a little dizzy.

I feel her twist my hips, turning me sideways to her. The rope goes between my legs. My eyes open wide. “What are you doing?” I asked her.

I can see she has a big smile now. “Hold still, I’m not done… measuring you yet.”

I gasp loudly as I feel the rope pulled straight up, spreading my vaginal lips, running up between my butt cheeks, giving me a wedgie. Mercy pulls the rope up so high she forces me onto my tippy toes. My arms fly off my head and I try to maintain my balance. I hear Mercy chuckle as she saws the rope back and forth. It is a strange and uncomfortable feeling, slightly painful but with a torrent of pleasure. I’m on the verge of an incredible orgasm.

Mercy stops.

“All done. My rope is getting a little too wet from you and your slutty pussy. Get your clothes on, you naughty girl, and go tell Kelsey she’s up next.” Mercy says as she slaps my ass. “And don’t you dare play with yourself. I’ll know if you do.”

The pain from both the rope and the spank leaves me feeling so horny. I didn’t know pain could feel so good. I grab my clothes into a pile and walk about five feet away to a safe distance before I get dressed. Mercy watches me the whole time.

“Kelsey, it’s your turn.” I tell her as I return the fire with both Alice and Kelsey talking about God knows what. I just want to go to bed. Kelsey gets up and passes by me as I make my way to my bedroll. Alice can see I’m flustered and doesn’t say anything but goes to her own bedroll.

Holy fuck am I horny. All I can think about is touching myself, especially after I was told not to. I’m tossing and turning, trying to make it sound and look more casual than it feels. I keep seeing Mercy when I close my eyes. That’s when I realize that I am touching myself. I’ve got one hand rubbing down there and the other squeezing a boob. I release myself with such sudden movements, like I’d just touched something hot. Mercy’s words repeat in my head “I’ll know…”

Will She know?

CRACK, CRACK, CRACK. I hear a few minutes later quickly followed by Mercy saying, “Hold still!”

I can’t help but smile.

*********

In the morning, it’s Alice who wakes me up. She’s squatting beside me shaking me, saying “Time to get up, we’re all packed and ready to go. Get up.” I rub the sleep from my eyes. I’m really not a morning person.

I’m the last one packed and on my horse, but I’m in good spirits. I’ve got some food in hand, just a small sandwich and an apple. My friends didn’t leave me behind. Can’t ask for much more. Time to get going.

The Day is dragging on. Today, like yesterday, we are traveling in two pairs of two. Alice and Kelsey are leading the way, while I’m riding beside Mercy. She has been focused on her projects and has spent little time making any conversation with me.

We camped near a small stream for our final night on the road. The water is fresh and crisp and cold, but it’s only about two hands deep. I’m loving this trip, but going a second day without a bath, Yikes. We all smell like the road. Well… all of us except Mercy, who still smells strongly of lilacs. I swear, I nearly salivate and feel weak anytime the wind pushes her scent to me.

Blissfully the night goes smoothly. No problems that come up during the night. During my turn on watch, I made friends with a small duck. I fed him bread and he ate it. We had a thing, and I named him Patches.

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Losing Yourself

—

The hazy morning sun was starting to rise over the badlands, marking the end of the eleventh night Alanna had spent in the great wastes. They had left behind the vast maze of rocky plateaus yesterday, the landscape opening back up into endless rolling hills with the occasional isolated plateau.

They were already both awake. Today, it was hypothesized they would be reaching the swamps surrounding Mschuleft, a sort of checkpoint to their long trek and a welcomed change of pace. Alanna was too excited to sleep much, and even Talos seemed in good spirits as he consumed the remnants of the latest wild boar they had hunted. Alanna smiled at him, Talos winking back. They soon packed up camp and headed out once more to the southeast, guided once again by sunlight.

Alanna was surprised at how well she had adapted to the badlands. What had been a terrifying prospect just a week and a half ago started to become a half-decent experience. The pair had several more run-ins with Orcs, several more heart-pounding moments with everything on the line. She had personally slain four more of the savages since their first encounter a week ago with Talos’ crossbow, and even a wild boar; the adrenaline of the fight made her feel more alive than ever.

There were minor downsides to her predicament, of course. Her clothes had become more and more threadbare as they traveled through the wastes. She mused that she must look positively savage by now; her tangled hair lay in a messy bun behind her head, her blouse tattered and now merely tied around her breasts was patterned with tears and stains. Her leather travel pants now had a large opening at her left knee, ripping without her consent while hunting last night’s boar.

She looked over at Talos, smiling softly as she looked his armor over. She was surprised to see that his had mostly held up; the proof of the quality of his gear. He mentioned, in reply to one of Alanna’s complaints about her current wardrobe, how his had so far survived two years of travel. She made a mental note to ask him if his adventures were always this exhilarating.

She found the long stretches of time between combat were growing more comfortable for her as well. Most of that was the fault of her companion; Talos, several days past, had finally opened his mind completely to her with full consent. She overheard Talos’ philosophical thoughts, surprised at the depth of his character. She felt splashes of his past adventures and conversations, overwhelming her with the full spectrum of human experience. She found herself swimming in his thoughts for hours on end.

And now that he was exposed to her, she found him ocassionally finding lustful pleasure in looking over her body. She didn’t mind. She even encouraged him at times where she swayed her hips a bit more, or pressed her tits together when they were conversing. She felt closer to the man than any other being, even her own parents.

It certainly showed in her actions; she sat right beside him at camp every night, and walked near him on his left as they traveled. She found her hands on him more often now, touching him softly when sharing a joke or experiencing a fragment of his past.

The pair had learned much of their Orc neighbors as well. Coming across van escort a small camp of theirs of three roundhouses, they had discovered that there was indeed a female component to their race. Smaller and not nearly as aggressive, Alanna forced Talos to spare them with a quick charm and a flash of her innocent eyes.

Alanna wondered if she finally found the man that would take her innocence. Two weeks ago, if the oracle at Selphyse herself had told her that she’d be lusting for a man who had a dozen more years of age than her, she would have laughed and disbelieved it. While exploring his thoughts, she found that Talos had slept with countless women in the past. Why didn’t that didn’t bother her? The only thing that did was a small thought in the back of her conscious, imploring her not to lose herself to…

Ugh. She bumped into the back of a suddenly stationary Talos, silently chiding herself for not paying attention. She scanned his thoughts.

“Camp?”, Talos thought, the question directed at her. It was interesting traveling with someone so experienced with empaths, Alanna notioned, as she’d never encountered another soul who could direct their ideation at an invading voyeur.

She looked in the sky, the sun still almost directly above their heads as they stood in front of a thick granite pleateau. The marshes of Mschuleft were visible on the horizon, looking hazy and mysterious.

“Don’t you think it’s a little early?” she answered questioningly, shooting him a confused look. Talos accepted the challenge of convincing her as he took her hand and led her into a crevice in the stone, his tired horse obediently following them in.

The dark, cold stone soon fell away around her, and they were within the granite itself, the cloudy blue sky overhead. Before them, a tiny pillar of water fell from the stone above, producing a decently-sized pool beneath it.

Alanna’s eyes lit up as she looked upon the salvation to her frustrating mess of hair. Talos smirked, released her hand and squeezed her shoulder, then walked back to the horse to unpack the tent.

Alanna wasted no time shedding her clothes. She removed her circlet, unfastened her cloak, and untied her ruined blouse. She felt Talos’ eyes on her back and turned around, giving him a sultry look as she unwrapped the cloth from her tits.

Dropping the cloth, she put an arm under her voluptuous breasts as she stepped over to her pack, fishing her small pouch of hair cleanser from the bag. She actively worked to make the action as sensual as possible, bending over while keeping her knees straight, sticking her shapely ass out towards him. Slowly straightening her back, she faced away from him as she slipped both thumbs into her tight leather pants and carefully pushed them down her legs, bending gently at the waist and pivoted to the side when her butt was exposed, displaying her thighs to him.

Alanna was overtly reading Talos as she carefully teased him, driving her on and causing her cheeks to flush with color. Her slit was maddeningly soaked as she strut towards the pool, and she slipped her panties off mid-stride. This was the first time Talos had ever seen her naked alabaster body, and she ensured he’d remember it.

Looking down, she noted that the pool was only about yalova escort four feet deep and slipped a foot daintily into the water, testing its warmth. It was cool to the touch; much cooler than she expected. She slowly lowered her body into the pool with a lusty moan, smiling at herself. There she bathed and, most importantly, washed her hair under the falling water twice. This gave Talos time to remember what he was doing and pitched the tent, while unsuccessfully trying to keep the other unpitched.

After several minutes of aching loneliness in the pool, Alanna tilted her head to look at her companion. He was unequipping his sword belt and shoulder armor, settling in for the day.

“Care to join me?” she cooed, standing up slightly in the water so her nipples were above the water line.

Talos smirked, replying tersely, “Sure, just a minute.” She watched him walk out of their private oasis for a bit and wondered what he was up to. She reached out.

“Not hearing any Orcs nearby. We should be safe for the rest of the day.” Hmph. Sure, he was a professional, but she didn’t expect him to be thinking of Orcs when she was so obviously giving herself to him. She was glad someone was, though.

“… really going to do this? She’s far too young, just out of college. Can I even let her down easy? Do I want to?”

Alanna felt the opposing sides raging in his mind and took a metaphorical step back in her own. Was she really doing this, out here? She just met the man, and no matter how wet he made her, did that mean she’d throw away her principles just to get off? She suddenly felt Talos’ mind agree to itself, and heard his footsteps reenter through the crevice.

She watched him strip down, her head resting on her arms at the edge of the pool, wet auburn hair flowing freely around her face. How did she not notice all of his scars before?

When he got down to his under-trousers, he sauntered over to her and lowered them. She looked up at him and gasped, face-to-face with his hard member for just a moment. She was surprised by its length and girth, even when compared to an Orc’s, and especially when compared to a human’s. She briefly wondered if it had been transmuted at some point. He lowered himself into the pool just next to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders after he was situated.

“Damn, that is a lot nicer than I thought it’d be,” he said as an attempted icebreaker.

Alanna giggled softly and turned towards him, wrapping one arm his neck as her other hand rested on his muscled thigh. She bit her lip and must have gave him the right look, as he immediately lowered his face to hers and gave her a deep kiss on the lips as she closed her eyes. Alanna’s mind immediately started racing and when his face pulled an inch away from hers she dove right back in, lustfully kissing him as their lips parted. Their tongues fought and entwined as Alanna moved her body closer to his, resting her parted legs on his thighs, both arms wrapped around his neck.

“No,” she thought to herself, still entwined with him.

She felt Talos grab her by the waist, slowly lifting her with his immense strength as Alanna pulled her lips from his.

“No,” she vocalized, causing him to release his grip on her, his throbbing member inches çorlu escort from her virginal pussy.

“Sorry?” he replied, confused. She couldn’t do this to him, no way. But she couldn’t go through with it, not now. She sensed hundreds of conflicting thoughts swarming in his mind.

She lifted herself off of him, releasing him and standing up.

“No, I’m sorry. I… Will you let me, um, suck your cock instead?” she whispered shakily. She felt Talos’ concern for her rise to the top of the maelstrom in his mind so she added, more confidently, “I need to suck your cock.”

Talos grinned again and lifted himself from the pool using just his arms, sitting at the edge. His dick was already losing strength from the surprise she gave him, but Alanna immediately looked to remedy the situation. She slowly kneeled before him, half her body in the cool water as her eyes floated downward.

She rested a hand on his thigh as she wrapped her slender fingers around his thick shaft, stroking him slowly as his cock regained its former length. She felt the heat throbbing in her hand and pumped it steadily, not removing it from her sight.

She arched her back lower as her lips widened, then swirled her tongue underneath his cockhead. She heard his first groan, deep and satisfied, as she lowered her wet mouth, wrapping her supple lips around the head as she continued pumping the shaft. Her other hand left his thigh, lowering to her crotch and she started rubbing her clit in a slow circular motion. She needed to cool off just as much as he did.

Her head now bobbed up and down slowly on his shaft, taking another inch in her mouth, then another. She uncontrollably moaned on his cock as her fingers played with her cunt under the water. She came up for air when she attempted to fit his entire length in her throat, far too much for her. Her eyes never left his cock as she dove on top of it once more, bobbing her head on his cock as her hand moved to his balls and started to fondle them. His groans made her work faster and suck harder. She felt his palms on the back of her head, gently pushing her as she worked his cock.

She looked up at him and met his eyes looking down on her as she moaned harder from her self-pleasure, eyebrows rising as she did. Her tongue played under his shaft as she tried once more to take his dick to the base, missing it by inches. His groans came shallower and quicker as she felt his nuts churning.

She picked up the pace on her own pleasure, getting closer and closer as she sloppily bobbed on his massive cock. Her eyes shut tight and groaned with six inches of meat in her mouth, her orgasm flushing through her body when she felt Talos pulling her head from his manhood. Not missing a beat, Alanna brought the hand pleasuring his balls quickly to his shaft and pumped tight and fast as he erupted.

His cum blasted her in the face just as she reopened her eyes, covering her in five thick ropes. With her lips still parted, she tasted his juice drip onto her tongue before she could close them. The remaining, less powerful, shots landed on her neck and breasts as she moaned in sympathy with his. She kept pumping him until she was sure he was done cumming, then lowered her mouth down onto his waning shaft and sucked him clean.

–

The pair slept together in the tent that night, uncaring of the brutal world around them. Alanna’s head lay on Talos’ chest while his arm was wrapped around her, curling her body to his. She wore only her panties to bed, satisfied that she survived one more day without losing herself.

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Greetings, welcome to Chapter Two of Marginal Life.

This chapter picks up right where the first leaves off. If you haven’t read chapter one, I suggest you go do so first. No, seriously, what are you still doing here, this won’t make any sense otherwise.

To the rest of you, to everyone that read and/or rated chapter one, and is now back for more. Thanks for the support, it made my day to see that little red H next to the story, even if it was only for an afternoon.

For those looking for more worldbuilding, I ask for patience. Chapter three will go in depth on how magic works.

As before, comments are welcome. I really would like to know what you find lacking, or want to see more of.

I hope you continue to enjoy reading the story, I’m certainly learning a lot writing it.

-Mach Ex Anima, August 2016

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

We’re under attack. Marge’s bridge is in chaos. Alarms scream for Stefan’s attention. The chainsaw on lookout warns of incoming from off the bow. The wood chipper at tactical yells of an assault from below. The cat at security yowls of intruders. At my own station, I… What?

It’s too strange, even for me. The dream breaks. With a muffled groan I pry open eyes heavy with too much sleep. Less than a foot above me, Stefan’s snoring drones away. Its strength so incredible, I’m surprised it didn’t wake me sooner. That I so easily incorporated it into my now fading dream. Under the racket I giggle. There’s a reason Marian and I sleep in our own quarters.

Drifting, half awake, I contemplating moving. The wall clock proclaims we’ve been asleep for over ten hours. Me I understand, I needed the time to recover. His exhaustion is more worrying. Does my episode lie at its root, or something else? Unsure which is worse. Too much thought for first thing in the morning.

Sometime during the night I had rolled off to his side, snuggling in tightly. The contact feels amazing. Like a living pillow, radiating warmth and comfort. Protection from any external threat. Despite the racket. Licking my lips, I grimace. Perhaps something to silence the noise is in order. Revenge for waking me, but also appreciation for last night. And to replace the dry, gritty taste of sleep with a better flavour. Stretching slightly to loosen my muscles, I reach for his morning stiffness. Already savouring the upcoming banquet, I-

Eww.

Hand suddenly sticky, instantly wide awake, I flinch back from the contact. Memory surfaces, of passing out as we finished. Hyper aware of my own messy state, all plans are destroyed by one all consuming thought: Shower. NOW.

No time for stealth. Sliding away and off the bed, I shiver at the loss of his heat. Padding into the bathroom, his snoring continues unchanged. Guess I’m showering alone. Triggering the spray, I start to scrub vigorously. It’s time to take stock.

Past the stickiness, I feel good. Really, really good. Rarely do I wake still ready for company. Risking my calm, I try directness. I had sex. Really, really great sex. I enjoyed myself, our time together. Three times even. So far so good. Unusually, I enjoyed his attentions to my core. My… my… pussy. Barely a hesitation. Huh. My first thoughts this morning were for more. Definitely rare. Almost unheard of.

Cautiously, I visualize my mental pool. Is there something that reflects my continued calm? Something different? While the pool’s level is far from recovered, the underlying stone feels denser, more permanent. The faint hint of carvings adorn the stone, some long branching motif. Roots maybe? Or some kind of vine? The water ripples. A strange light catches my attention, a candle floating in the center of the pool.

My calm trembles. Fire means an episode. No. It’s too soon. They’re never this close together. Panic closes in, digging at my calm. Frantically I try to start my routine. Try to breathe. Come up with a project to work on. Keep the focus in check. Breathe! Can’t let myself wander. Not the harness. Lasse wants better cold storage, maybe that? Breathe damnit! Is Fate trying to destroy me? Maybe I can-

Arms circle me from behind. I shriek, my mental pool surging in a sudden explosion of fright. Adrenaline pounding, I instinctively shove back, slamming my attacker against the shower wall. Or at least try to. Outweighing me by quite a bit and steady while I am off balance, Stefan merely sways. Peering over my shoulder, worry evident on his face.

“Jaya? You okay? You left the door open. Did you not want company?”

A mental glance, the candle is gone. Vanished as if it never existed. The pool stills, waves settling. His presence distracting me, dissipating the panic. His words register. Had I left the door open? I had. On purpose? Seems so. Had I wanted company? Yes. Do I still? Yes. Yes I do.

Weak from sudden relief, the rush of adrenaline passing as fast as it came on, I sag against him. Laughing quietly, hysteria lending it a jagged edge. His tense muscles a clue that he is ready to surrender the shower, leaving me to myself. To ride out yet another of my “moods.” All it will gebze escort take is the right – or wrong – word.

“No… no, wait.” A deep breath. “I did.” Stronger. “I do. I was just… thinking.”

He’s not convinced. Many a morning have I vanished, both quietly and… not. Very rarely staying this long. Today, I want him to stay. Need him to. A plan takes shape. I slap my washcloth to his chest as the first step.

“Wash. Don’t think I’m done with you. I need you nice and clean.” Time to switch tracks. “You still have that jerky from Golddale?”

“Yes?” Though I can tell the question has thrown him, he instinctively answers what was to be my next query. “It’s in the left chest, to the back.”

Smiling to myself, I hop from the shopper. Almost skipping as I head towards his quarters. Not that I would ever do such a thing.

As ever, his cabin is orderly. Clean. Almost too clean. A small bed, two storage chests, and a desk the only furniture. A light carpet softens the bite of an otherwise cold metal floor. Very few personal effects, Stefan isn’t one for souvenirs. A small framed photograph hanging centrally above the bed clearly the focus. The expensively produced monochrome depicting Marian and I standing to either side of Stefan. Taken just after Marian finished her Doctorate, when she joined us on Marge. That puts it just over eight years ago. In it we’re smiling, a happy Bond reunited.

Focus. Keep on target. Remember the plan. I find the food quickly, exactly where he said it would be. The leather pouch is still sealed, a layer of wax over a simple drawstring. Gold leaf proclaims it the best assortment of game to ever breathe smoke. Perfect. Dripping a reasonable amount of water on his carpet, I head back.

When I return, he’s washing at a leisurely pace, face an impassive mask. He missed my excitement, or thought it a ruse. He thinks I bolted. As excuses go, it would have been a good one. The mask muting the pain I caused him, or at least trying to. Even knowing me as well as he does, he still blames himself when I run off.

Time to stop that right now, thank you.

“I told you, I have plans. Breakfast first.”

My voice is light, teasing. Startling him, surprise banishing his mask. Washing more quickly now, a smile tugging at the edges.

“My mistake. I’ll be clean in a moment, oh breakfast planner.”

Much better. Grinning, I grab his razor from the sink cabinet. A slice easily breaking the wax seal. A simple tug, and I’m in. The rich aroma of wood smoke and spices fills the already steamy air, drawing a grumble from both our stomachs. Probably shouldn’t have missed dinner. Fishing out a piece of something dark, I begin to snack.

“Mmm. Their reputation is well deserved.” Another piece, something light this time. “This is incredible.”

“I wouldn’t know.”

Smirking, I chew, openly taunting. Watching his eyes light up, I know we’re good to go. I Dodge a sudden playful swipe, the small room offering little in the way of escape. Time to advance the plan. I twist, pretending to slip. His quick reflexes easily catch me, pulling me against his chest to prevent a fall. A carefully orchestrated swing of my arm keeps the pouch from a soaking. Or at least tries to.

A breathy giggle, instantly muffled as I slap my free hand to my mouth. Please Luck, let him not have heard that. I feel him shift behind me, his grip feathering. Uh oh.

Barely an instant to brace before I’m giggling hysterically, his tickling merciless in its execution. Decades of experience have left him with far too too much knowledge of my weak points.

“No no no he he he he…” Squirming frantically under his touch.

“Mercy… Mercy…” Breathless.

“Please…” No sign of stopping.

“I give… I give… ” Waving the pouch.

Relief.

Triumphant, he snags the pouch from my loosened grip. I sag to the floor, exhausted from my ordeal, still giggling breathlessly. I vow revenge while trying to breath. A couple minutes and several anatomically unwieldy curses later, I feel a tap to my head. Drawing my gaze upward, tracing it up along his wet form, I tilt my head in a question.

“Peace?”

Offering a chunk of meat, chewing one of his own. I pretend to consider, then tilt my head back, allowing him to feed me. Hmm. A little slimy, the pouch definitely suffered from the spray. Still tasty though.

Holding up my hands, he easily uses one arm to pull me to my feet. I perch on a small side shelf, normally intended to store soaps and such. As small as I am, it easily works as a chair. With him continuing to hand feed me, we split the rest of the pouch. Chatting of nothing important, enjoying the food. As breakfasts go, it’s not bad.

Recovered from my second bout with hysteria (the second happily overwriting the first), hunger banished, the still warm shower cascading over me, Stefan’s presence solid and nurturing, I feel… content. From my tiny seat, life feels manageable. Easy. Right. Happy.

The feeling passes. Not from shattered calm or external events, but in the face gümüşhane escort of sudden ravenous hunger. Heat blooming, I Need. The plan must continue. Sporting a predatory grin, I lunge from the shelf, grabbing for his thighs. Pushing to indicate where I want him. Curious, he bends, swapping positions with me in a narrow little dance. Just managing to sit on the small shelf I vacated. I kneel, pushing open his legs and settling them to either side of me. Now at the perfect height for my goal.

I hear him mutter under his breath. It sounds like he’s planning a duty roster. Quite a distracting topic. My grin grows: he knows me well. Moving in, I lick my lips. This is it. What I’ve craved since wakening. I draw him fully into my mouth. His cock still fully soft, his control impressive. I savor the texture. Soft, rubbery, pliant. With one hand I cup his sack, lightly brushing at the fragile orbs within. Shocked silent, his arousal surges with impressive force, plowing through to my throat as he lengthens. I relax, gulping at him as he hardens. Now solid, unyielding. I marvel at the transition. At the rarity of experiencing the full change. At the huge differences.

His unique flavour quickly overtakes the clean non-taste of the shower. Cinnamon, peat, and brine mix with the lingering aroma of our breakfast. A heady combination. Slightly lightheaded, I bobble back and forth. His sudden groan incentive to focus, to really work.

Move back, suck on the head, tongue sliding over the tip. Stroke the shaft. Move in, take as much as I can, draw him towards my throat. My tongue ever moving, tickling the underside. Over and over again, a steady rhythm. The water cascading down, a warm rain. Stefan’s eyes closed, rapture evident. My other hand busy, eagerly stroking… myself? Subconsciously circling my core, teasing forth the heat building within.

Unintentional, but surprisingly not unwelcome. Pressure building, urgency building. Driving us both ever onward to my goal. To break his control. To have him unmade before me. To reap my reward.

I attack with every trick I’ve learned, years of studying his tells. A lick here, a subtle twist of the skin there. The slightest extra pressure from my lips, carefully avoiding teeth. Dragging forth his pleasure, whether he like it or not.

He does. A sudden touch, hands light on my hair. A tightening of his sack. A slight swelling of his shaft. Signs warning of his climax. I pull back, positioning him just above my tongue, desperately working his shaft.

He explodes. Strongly. Once. Twice. A third time. More softly after that. Coating my tongue, the flavor intense. Uniquely Him, but more. Consumed by it, by him, I shudder through a peak of my own, two fingers stroking deep, curling upwards. Thumb circling near my button. Somehow still making that damn breathy squeak even with my mouth full.

“Yesss…” A hiss from above. “My Jaya…” Barely audible through the shower.

Gathering everything he’s given me, I lean back, eyes closed, savoring the experience. His pleasure. His desire. His seed. His flavour. The waves of my orgasm a counterpoint, adding to the euphoria. Holding the moment as long as I can. Swallowing, a part of him mine forever.

Time passes, drifting. Thoughts empty. Just existing. Tranquil. Immovable. Lifted by strong hands, brought from the floor to a broad chest. His green eyes peer into mine. His glow of satisfaction mirroring my own.

“That was great.”

A statement. His I think? Maybe my own. One echoing the other.

“Do you want to stay longer?”

I tilt my head, puzzled. Do I? Drifting, the question has no meaning. Content, I let him interpret my non-answer as he will.

***

The vigorous rubbing of a plush towel rouses me. How long was I out? At some point he moved us back to the bedroom, and is currently drying both of us. Snagging one end of his large towel, I help as best I can.

“Back with us? You were kind of out of it.”

“I… It was just so… Intense.”

Not sure how to describe it.

“I’ve never just drifted like that. Everything came untethered, like I was flying. I…” Frowning now in concentration.

A tap on my forehead disrupts my chain of thought.

“Hey. Don’t. As long as you enjoyed it. I loved it. Loved being with you. Love having you here.” A slight pause, just long enough to trap my gaze with his own. “Love you.”

I can’t help the goofy grin. Can’t help throwing myself at him, wrapping myself about him, breathing him in deepy. Whispering quietly, with all the conviction of my being.

“I love you too.”

***

The time later than we thought, Stefan soon has to run, back to his own cabin and then on to duty. Shifts for Named crew are often more hectic in port than while in transit, a thousand and one administrative details demanding attention. Most of them Right Now, if not sooner. Not that my job is any easier. Less paperwork, more grease.

Eyeballing the jumpsuit left from yesterday, I feel my lip curl just a bit in disgust. Something from the chest izmir escort instead. A quick search coughs up a pair of shorts and a loose blouse, a pink number with lace sleeves. It belongs to Marian, I’m almost swimming in it. The fabric is light, airy, and so very soft.

Time to go. Mess hall, signal room, then to quarters for my work gear. Turning, I catch a look at the tall mirror. A cute girl stares back. Relaxed, confident, ready for a day on the town.

Is that really me? I look… really good. Normal. Cute. That can’t be me.

That’s not me.

No. No. Focus. It’s just a reflection. Just an image. Don’t do this.

I look like a kid into his mother’s clothes, playing dress up.

No! Can’t I have this? Just for today?

I look absurd.

Ripping at the shirt, tearing the fabric in frantic haste to be rid of it.

I should have known better. Why do I even try? I’m such an idiot.

I need to get out of here, out of this room.

Pulling on the discarded jumpsuit, still barefoot, tears flowing, I flee.

***

Deep breath in. Let it out. Repeat. Focus on the action. Visualize the pool. Feel its calm. Center on it, feel the strength of the stone as my own.

I sit cross legged on my bunk. Doc’s routine calming, stabilizing. She calls it meditation. I call it a way to get on with my life. It takes me half an hour before I feel somewhat centered, ready to work. Hopeful that things might stay neutral for awhile now.

Was the visit too soon after the episode? How much do I risk riding the extremes like this? No way to know. Can’t let it weigh me down. Think later. Visit the Doc if I can. Work now.

Having made my decision, I move. Fresh jumpsuit. Tool vest over that. The icon of a golden wrench beside three vertical silver bars at the collar, indication of my rank. Heavy steel-toed boots. Leather gloves tucked through my belt, next to loops for larger tools. The “official” uniform for a Mechanic.

Suitably armored, I feel like myself. Finally. No more ups and downs. Just me and my tools. And whatever misbehaving mechanica draws my wrath. Stomping, boots suitably loud on the metal decking, I head out.

Turning to head next door, a small stack of paper draws my attention, overflowing my small message box. Tacked to the wall just outside of each crew’s quarters, they’re not intended to hold so much at once. Being out for a week is a great way to get behind on official paperwork. Better take a moment, sort it all out.

Shipping manifest, shipping manifest, receipt for repair, etc. Most of it is routine junk, notifications for things I already know, or don’t need to. Or that Teresa does, not having spent a week asleep. Two letters stand out. And they’re big ones.

The first, a stuffy sounding letter from the Academy, well wishes for my recovery, blah blah blah. The important part buried in the middle: my class has been rescheduled for the day after tomorrow. A bureaucratic miracle.

The second much more immediately important, a simple slip of paper with a short couple of sentences:

“Jaya. See me as soon as you read this. My entire day is clear. Nadia.”

Very strange. Did Luck roll in my favor? Is her mother Fate messing with me yet again? How did the Doc have so much free time, and so fast? Was it Marian? Probably.

Pondering, I finish my trek next door, to my own small absolute domain: the mechanica shop. A place where I can work in peace and quiet, away from any considerations such as-

WHAM WHAM WHAM WHAM.

My thoughts, running as they were, slam headlong into a wall of sound, Teresa hammering a stubborn metal bracket into shape. The hammering wins. Snickering, I move to see what my assistant is working on. Two of the four main workbenches have their tops covered with various parts, carefully organized. One set appears to be hydraulics for a large door, probably a cargo hatch. On the other, the… huh. The lift spreaders for a skiff? What?

“Get! Into! Position! You! Annoying! FUCK!” Punctuating each word with a smack.

Ah, the battle cry of mechanics everywhere. Satisfied, stepping back to check the angles, she finally notices my amused presence, jumping with an “eep.” Somehow managing to not look completely embarrassed. A trick I wish I could pull off when in the same circumstances.

“Jaya! I wasn’t expecting you. Captain messaged you were on leave today.”

Secretly pleased, I wave away mention of Stefan, more interested in the work.

“I am. Needed to hammer something out. Not as literally as you. What is all this anyway?”

“That, ” pointing to one bench, “is the stern cargo ramp’s lower port hydraulic assembly. And that,” swapping to the other, “is the effector from our largest cargo loader. One of Sinem’s flunkies managed to slam one into the other first thing this morning.”

Her irritation is nearly a physical presence. I can feel mine wanting to hop out and join it. Sinem is our Cargomaster, the warrant officer in charge of our holds. Heavy Salamander Marker, which grants her increased physical abilities and a patterning of reddish scales across her face and neck that I think are very cute. Not that I’ll ever admit it. Her main job and largest headache the constant babysitting of the deck crew, those barely trained nameless that sign on for a tour or two. Their main job the organization and movement of our cargo.

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Majutsu-shi no Chikara loosely translates to “Sorcerer’s Power”

*** THIS VERSION IS TRUNCATED. Approximately 45% has been redacted from the original. I’m sure there are those who will find this more agreeable.***

CHAPTER TWELVE: Where Blood Lies

Naenia’s eyes were open before Abhilash moved to kick her awake. The cold, clinging wet of the pre-dawn had invaded the hut where they lay together by the hearth, and Naenia’s nose wrinkled as the hungers of her body growled noiselessly within.

“Up.” Abhilash grunted, righting herself and prodding Naenia’s gray-brown hip with a booted foot.

“Your heat will be on you, without…” Naenia stopped herself, remembering the life she abandoned the night before. “…without the Betrayer’s magic. Keep your womb full, and it will not cloud your mind.”

“Up.” Abhilash kicked again, this time Naenia snarled her pained reply as the younger walked out of the hut without a backward glance.

Rising to her feet, Naenia sniffed deeply, looking at the shrouded human bodies on the narrow bed at the far side of the hearth opposite where she’d slept on the ground. Damon’s face was nestled into Ginga’s hair, his left arm cradling her to him protectively. The two had entered the hut in silent haste, the rasp of their shoes quiet enough but their fear-stink too strong for Naenia to sleep until they had settled onto the bed. The male human, too spent, had pleasured the female with his mouth until her fear-stink washed away in the sweet-almond and cream odor of her climax. Naenia’s mouth had been wet with renewed hunger at that, but the humans quickly fell into snoring sleep — leaving their ork companion in frustrated arousal. Abhilash had masturbated to the sound of their sex; Naenia resisted that temptation.

Now, Naenia regretted the choice, her body’s lust felt to have doubled on waking and it took much of her focus to keep her hands off herself. She followed Abhilash, already halfway to the stream on the far side of the pepper field whose blossoms were beginning to sprout well ahead of season. Naenia wondered at this, for she had not seen what terrors and wonders had accompanied the old wizard’s last storm, but gave no further thought to it as she submerged herself in the icy water and let the chilling current dull her body’s appetite.

“Can you make his cock larger?” Abhilash looked Naenia directly in the eyes as the elder ork surfaced and wiped the water from her face.

“I’ve no skill at changing flesh.” Naenia shook her head. “Some small magic that lets me see the nature of things, bloodlines… and power to command the mind.”

“That was the Betrayer’s trick, I think.” Abhilash scowled, nodding thoughtfully.

“It was.” Naenia shrugged. “It did not let her change flesh.”

“Hmph.” Abhilash snorted, dunking herself back into the water to cool her own ardor before climbing back onto the bank and donning her ill-fitting clothes.

Now, cockerels crowed loudly and goats bleated in the corrals. South-wold was stirring ahead of the dawn, just behind the orks. The cough and snort of distant humans clearing night phlegm, coupled with the muttered cursing and shuffling of two score hungover revelers rose and fell in a sussuration – a tide of autumn leaves stirred by the first cold winds at the last of that season. Weary and wary eyes peered from cowls or doorways, glancing over shoulders and from beneath frowning brows. Already, South-wold was alive with the morning’s business. Cooking fires, drawing water from the stream, and herding goats away to one of the further pastures. Dour, fearful, angry glances flicked over them, whizzed by their faces. A daring few struck them full in the eyes before the humans wielding them blanched and withdrew along with their thorny suspicions.

Abhilash returned to where she’d left Damon sleeping, finding Akuji waiting outside the hut and frowning deeply at her as she approached.

“Bring him to Elder Shaum’s home by sun-up.” Akuji tilted his head toward the doorway, then turned to walk away. “There’s much to discuss.”

She answered with only a grunt of acknowledgment, watching him depart with canny interest. The dark pits beneath his tired eyes aside, Akuji was not ugly for a human. Admitting to herself, Abhilash realized that her taste for flesh had been recently canted toward a particular human male with a similar look. Likely Akuji was not possessed of the same magical seed as Damon, and Abhilash sighed dismissively before ducking back into the hut to rouse the humans slumbering there.

“Get up.” Abhilash kicked the side of the bed, cracking the frame and causing the whole construction to sag toward her with the weight of its occupants. “Sun-up, be at Old Shaum’s hut.”

For no reason beyond the sound of it in her ears, Abhilash gave a crooked grin. Damon and Ginga, however, were startled awake; fumbling about to untangle themselves from blankets, bedding, and each other.

“What in the hells?” Damon trabzon escort groaned, finally standing and rubbing sleep from his eyes. Abhilash noted the identical smudges beneath his dark eyes that made him look more like his father as he squinted at her.

“Didn’t need to break the damn bed.” Ginga snarled, pulling her dress over her body and cinching her belt high around her waist. “And a fine morning to you.”

Abhilash had only a few moments to admire Ginga’s bare form again. She was small, smaller than Damon (which might be why he chose her, or she him), but her body had healthy fat from years of plenty and strong muscles honed by the labors yielding such a surplus. The width of her hips was a bit wider than Damon’s, perhaps, which meant she could straddle him easily and would likely birth her young more easily than a female with a narrower frame. In all, Abhilash found Damon’s tastes to be adequate (as far as human flesh was concerned). If Abhilash had not known better, she would have thought Ginga’s teats already swollen with milk. They could well be the same size as Abhilash’s own breasts — but on the smaller human they looked gigantic and cumbersome. The she-ork licked her lips and stared at each of the humans for several moments until some other thought took her attention.

“Shaum’s, you said?” Damon pulled his tunic and breeches on, tying his shoes on his feet and glancing up to the nodding she-ork.

Naenia was now standing outside, leaning near the edge of the doorway and looking in with muted interest. Her hand idly stroked low across her stomach, eyes unfocused and staring at a low angle through the wall opposite.

“By sun-up.” Abhilash stooped to recover the Thirsty Blade. “Not long.”

Nodding, the male rubbed his eyes again and looked toward the entrance. Naenia met his gaze, then glanced up to the distant mountains and the shafts of morning streaking high overhead.

“Now.” Naenia turned her gaze back to Damon and huffed with boredom or irritation. Where orks were concerned, it seemed to be either… or both.

“Get something to eat.” Damon leaned down to kiss a very irritated-looking Ginga, her blue-gray eyes narrowing at him dangerously as she caught his wrist in her hand.

“You’ll not be rid of me, Damon.” Ginga stood, marching with imperious purpose toward Shaum’s home and dragging Damon behind her. “I’m sure one of your servants can manage to bring us something.”

With a roll of his eyes, Damon matched the angry stomping gait and shook his head.

“They’re not servants, Ginga. You know that.” Whether genuine or not, his chuckle garnered a growling rebuke from the woman leading him to Elder Shaum’s.

“Your brood mares, then.” After that, Damon thought better than to risk offending Ginga any further — her tone biting much the way he imagined of an ork’s tusks.

Abhilash left the hut, looking Naenia up and down.

“Well, brood mare?” Abhilash gurgled orkish laughter. “Best follow.”

“And you?” Naenia stood away from the doorway, Abhilash having pushed by. “What are you, if not another of his seed-wives?”

“A war-chief.” Abhilash gestured with the sword in her hand. “And bearer of a magic blade.”

“First among seed-wives?” Naenia smirked, turning to follow Damon. “Best we both follow, then.”

“Go rut a troll.” Abhilash snarled at Naenia’s back.

Naenia offered no response, keeping her eyes and shoulders fixed on the path that followed Damon’s scent until she could see him again — just before Ginga dragged him inside what Naenia recognized as Shaum’s home.

…

“You’re a sorcerer, I think.” Prende wrinkled her nose, eyes refocusing on Damon’s face, as honeyed-red brows knit back and forth and her full lips quirked to one side in thought.

“We all knew that.” Naenia grunted, standing near the door and watching with guarded interest. “He has magic. You’ve seen it.”

“Well, he’s not a sorcerer like Matta.” Prende defended her judgment, her fingers smoothing the alien fabric covering her as if to soothe herself. “His magic looks separate, like one of Matta’s spells.”

“How can that be?” Nurcan, seated between Shaum and Akuji, watched from the far side of the hearth as Prende studied Damon for several moments.

All the introductions, however contrived, had been made in South-wold’s traditional way. Each person entering Shaum’s home greeted by the youngest member of the household, directed as to where they could sit, and offered cha to refresh themselves. Naenia had accepted the cha, but declined to sit. Abhilash had declined even the proffered cha. Damon, Ginga, and Prende were arranged where children usually sat on the floor near the hearth just left of the entrance to the house. Abhilash positioned herself near Damon, slanting her hip and reaching up to grip the edge of the loft overhead. The blade she held more like a cane, the point sinking half a finger-length into the packed earth of the floor beneath tunceli escort the mats. Naenia remained near the door after quaffing her cha in one swallow.

…

“More importantly,” Nurcan leaned forward where she sat, Damon feeling slightly dizzy from the buffeting voices seeking his attention, “how does he control it, and not it control him?”

“Questions for another time.” Akuji’s voice, a soft bark, caught the room to quiet as he stood. “Damon cannot stay, and Prende has already called out this doom-song of Matta’s. We have not the boon of time for all we ought. I’ll see to your provision. Ask what questions and learn what lessons ye can — but know you cannot remain the night.”

As much proclamation as warning, Damon saw fresh sorrow in his father’s face. In spite of it, Akuji gave him a curt nod of the head before begging leave from the elder of the house. Before Shaum could so much as wave, the Head-Elder of South-wold left them. His voice drifted backward, calling a few able hands away from their duties.

Shaum grumbled and spit, his wrinkled face twisted by rancid ill-ease.

“He is right.” Scratchy, crooked words and a spare, bony hand gesture put Nurcan aback. “The Tower knows… if not all, enough. If they have not put their great and terrible minds to it, they will… and then what?”

…

“What can we teach him quickly?” Nurcan turned to the nymph.

“Little.” Prende shrugged. “And much.”

Their conversation became a hushed, hurried exchange — cut liberally through by the callous or uncouth remarks of the she-orks among them. With each question, each answer: a handful of contradictions — swirling interruptions about the differences between humans, orks, fae, and others. Damon could practice magic, but he would have to learn how to perceive it. That much, at least, they could agree upon. Naenia claimed to “squint” to see the ethereal. Nurcan “relaxed and tilted” her gaze… Prende was no help, as she claimed to always be perceiving the wave-like aether — further claiming it was called mana or ki, depending on mortal proclivities, and that all such names were ultimately inadequate.

“Matta said that all spells require movement, music, and mind.” Nurcan said, at length. “Or the movements of hands, feet, and body; the chanting, singing, or speaking of the spell; and the absolute focus of the will to draw the needed energies from Beyond.”

“Beyond?” Damon asked, perhaps for the third or fourth time.

“The other side…” Prende gave him a gentle smile, touching his arm in effort to reassure him (he hoped), “beyond the boundary of this reality and into another… or many others.”

“And no two spells are alike?” Damon’s eyes hurt from trying to relax, tilt, and squint all at once. “How do they teach magic in the Guild?”

“Rote and measures, methinks.” Nurcan pouted, stroking a hand through her hair and trying to forget Prende’s constant, pressing aura. “Just as we learn to speak the same tongues, mend fences, fell trees… but the slipperiness of magic is the dangerous bit.”

“Practice is good.” Naenia nodded, before patting her stomach once. “Luck is good. Gut is good.”

“Gut?” Ginga quirked her brows in confusion.

“Feeling.” Nurcan gave an amendment, looking up to the gray she-ork to confirm it. “Gut feeling?”

“Mph.” Naenia nodded.

“Magic follows patterns easily enough.” Nurcan shook her head, gesturing and making a low humming sound.

With a tepid flourish little more than turning her hand, Nurcan conjured a pale glowing orb of light, no bigger than a ripe apple and barely brighter than a candle.

“Always start small.” The crone’s effort pulled taut across her face, sweat welling on her skin. “Be slow, and cautious.”

The orb dwindled, shrinking to the size of a knuckle-bone, then grew to the size of Nurcan’s head — still no brighter than before. Releasing the orb and a labored gasp, Nurcan panted to catch her breath. The orb faded into nothingness in moments.

“And practice.” Prende smiled. “If you focus your mind to a single goal; this one spell could find its boundaries drawn only by your ability to reason.”

“That’s wild-magic.” Shaum wagged an admonishing, crooked finger toward the nymph. “You would have him burst a-flame, as Jyran did.”

“Jyran was murdered, da.” Nurcan patted her father’s shoulder gently. “I told you, they saw the evidence of it, where they found him.”

“Jyran was murdered?” Ginga’s shock levered her mouth and eyes from their fixed stare.

“By Matta’s assassin, belike.” Nurcan nodded. “Prende and Matta sussed it out, then. Bid me tell no-one.”

“Shh.” Naenia lifted her hand to silence everyone, her head tilted to the side such that a pointed ear was angled out the doorway. “Does anyone else hear that?”

…

Goats shrieked in unison, scattering before their goatherds to trample baskets, chickens, or wayward small children. What birds remained in uşak escort the fields picking at the abundant growth, now took wing in droves to sweep and turn northward. A distant horn-call moaned through South-wold, now catching the ears of its defenders.

Already gathered at the urging of Naenia, the humans arranged in small groups with hatchets, axes, staves, and spears to prepare for the coming troll. Her warning had been sudden, enraged, her gray-brown skin flushing dark with blood-lust. She had near dragged Akuji to the southern fields and pointed directly toward the small cloud of dust slowly growing larger or nearer to the southeast.

“That.” She’d answered Akuji at last, waiting for the human to shade his eyes and stare into the distance at a threat he couldn’t see, listening to a sound he couldn’t hear. “One ork… followed by a troll.”

Abhilash had followed more slowly, not near so bound as Naenia to South-wold’s defense as her “cousin”. She could hear the sound easily enough, admitting to Damon that Naenia spoke true of the approaching danger but offering little by way of details.

Grudgingly, Akuji accepted these warnings and marshaled all able bodies to arms. The children were gathered, screaming and mute alike, into huddled shelter inside several of the larger family houses. Grimly waiting, two-dozen flesh statues peered through a haze of dust that sped toward them.

“Take your defenders behind those buildings. If we cannot stop it, here, then you will need your spears. Gather what pitch or grease you can, and ready to burn the body to ashes.” the she-ork jutted her chin, directing Akuji back into the village.

Another hesitation from the villagers before Akuji turned to shout orders to his fellows. Far from reluctant to withdraw from the threat of a charging troll, most of the humans still gave suspicious scowls to the orks — in spite of the proximity of the nymph, whose presence seemed dimmed and small.

“You, nymph.” Nurcan grabbed the slight fae’s arm, pulling herself before Prende rather than turning the nymph toward her. “Can you slay the troll?”

“I can try to calm it.” Prende pouted in deep thought, eyes focused on the horizon. “Or, maybe drive it mad with heat?”

“It is already mad.” Naenia barked over her shoulder toward the fae, not bothering to turn her head. “My d… cousin can slay the thing.”

“Let a sorcerer slay it.” Abhilash snorted, tapping the flat of her sword on her shoulder and giving Damon a sneering smile. “What say you, Damon? Will you kill the troll?”

He gripped the borrowed axe in his hands, jaw tight with fear or loathing he did not know.

“I wouldn’t know how to begin.” he grumbled sidelong, a shameful blush in his cheeks.

…

Tuwile panted, listening closely to the thudding rhythm of troll-stride behind him. It had gained much in the night, but was still more than a hundred paces lagging. Sweat poured from Tuwile’s flesh like sap, the thin rivers long dried in the night and his strength a shadow of what it had been after days pursuing goblins and now a full night running ahead of this damnable troll. He had called what warning he dared. It had been a reckless choice, as the troll had taken interest and increased its pace to harry him further with the promise of brutal dismemberment or worse.

When the troll had started growling to itself in the feral way of troll speech, Tuwile had felt the first shivering of real fear. Not even a moon had passed that he was free of the Betrayer’s touch, and he was hounded through the night by a troll.

The shacks and huts of South-wold disappeared behind the last hill before he would reach the outer fields — fields that had been barren or fallow on the night of the raid, now choked with sprouts and stalks of a variety Tuwile found alien.

He had seen Abhilash and the Betrayer standing with a human and the fae-creature in those fields, waiting. Their presence had been encouraging, until the troll seemed to notice something else on the wind.

Trumpeting a deep cry that shook in Tuwile’s bones, the troll quickened into a reckless charge.

Tuwile broke into a sprint, leaning further forward as he lunged uphill and crested the last rise. The feverish stink of troll was all around him, the quaking earth threatening to spill him from his feet as the beast closed behind him too quickly. More than a full bow-shot from the fields, he felt the ground vanish beneath his feet — the sun and earth spinning wildly around him as flames ran up his back where jagged tusks had ripped flesh and snapped bone.

He hit the ground on his left side and tumbled, spraying dirt and blood all around.

The troll ran forward, the ork wholly forgotten.

…

Damon watched with cold fascination as the running ork, swift as a galloping horse, was bowled-through by the troll and knocked into the air like a child’s doll. His arms felt like leaden weights, and he fought to keep himself from shaking.

“Now, Abhilash.” Naenia hissed, tilting herself forward and leaping into a full-on run.

“What do I…?” Damon stopped, for Abhilash hadn’t even acknowledged Naenia’s command — only obeyed with an equal swiftness.

“We do nothing.” Prende moved closer to him. “Except wait.”

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Milly groggily opened her eyes. Her whole body felt strange, not so much pain, but almost like the remnants of pain. She instantly felt the panic of waking and not recognizing where you were. This had happened to her before when she had slept over at a friend’s house, and she waited for recognition to come to her, but it didn’t. Not right away at least. It wasn’t until she saw the snoozing man beside her that she remembered what had happened. She had been shot! The man who she was now laying in bed with had pulled a gun on her last night and shot her right in the chest.

Milly looked down to discover that she wasn’t wearing a shirt. Her bra was still on, though, as was everything else, except her shoes. She looked down to examine her chest where she was sure she had been shot, but there was nothing there. She ran her fingers over the area, but couldn’t detect any scar or anything. Then she saw something just as mysterious as her unblemished flesh. On her upper arm there was a dark blue mark, the perfect shape of a hand.

Milly couldn’t remember anything after being shot, except for a hand squeezing her arm in the exact spot where the mark was now. It almost looked like a tattoo in a way. Milly touched it gently with the tip of her finger, and a gently vibration ran up her arm. Milly quickly pulled her finger away and stared down a the mark with shock and horror. What had this man done to her?

One thing was for certain, she wasn’t going to sit around for him to wake up so she could ask. She as gently as she could slid out of the huge four-poster bed. There was no sign of her shirt anywhere, but her shoes were lying neatly at the foot of the bed. Milly grabbed them, but didn’t bother wasting time putting them on. All she cold think about was getting away before he woke up. He must be a mad man.

He must have drugged her. She probably hallucinated the shooting, but even so, he kidnapped her out of Alex’s apartment and drugged, which made him just as much a lunatic and just as dangerous as if he actually had shot her. She opened the dark mahogany door, praying it wouldn’t squeak or anything. It was silent, but just in case, Milly only opened it a fraction, squeezing through the small hole.

She found her self in a sort of sitting room. This room was just as dark as the bedroom, with dark chocolate wood furniture and dark red and blue cushions. Milly only got cursory glance at the room, what she saw from her peripheral vision as she made a beeline for the first door she saw.

This door took her too a hallway. She knew that this was a rich, big house from the size and style of the two rooms she had just been in, but she hadn’t thought much of it until she stepped into the hallway. The hallway was endlessly long, and filled with so many doors that looked exactly the same. This was definitely a house that one could get lost in, which wasn’t good for Milly.

The hallway going either left or right looked the same, so Milly randomly turned right and hoped that it would lead her to an exit. At the end of the hall there were two turns, both again looking to be the same direction.

Milly started to panic. This was no ordinary house, she knew. She felt like she was in a horror movie, or an awful nightmare. It would be a never-ending escape attempt for her. She would keep turning and keep running, but all the halls would end up being the same.

Just as she was starting to panic, she made another turn and came upon a grand staircase. She felt silly for thinking that this was some cursed, never-ending house. It was just a regular house, and her kidnapper was just a regular man. She could escape, the door was right there in front of her.

The staircase was white and marble urfa escort and huge. Milly started running down it, her socks making very little noise as she ran, her shoes still in her hand. The door was large and grand. She was so close. Once outside she could make a break for it. Surely there was a street around there somewhere.

“And what do we have here?” Milly screamed at the voice behind her. Her whole body jumped and she instinctively turned around to look at who had spoken to her. It was a man, but not the one she had expected. Not the one she had woken up in bed with this morning.

The man looked to be in his thirties. Though there was nothing outright scary about his appearance, the way he was lecherously looking at her chest gave him the look of an evil villain.

Milly glanced at the man and back at the door. She might just be able to make it to the door and get it open before he caught her, she thought. She made a break for it, but almost instantly his arms were around her stomach. How had he caught her so fast? She wondered, even as she screamed out and tried to elbow his stomach.

The man laughed, and Milly hated the feel of his arms touching the bare chest of her stomach. Her bra wasn’t super skimpy, but she knew that her could see down the cups from the position he held her in from behind.

All of a sudden, the man was no longer touching her. Milly, mid-struggle, found herself suddenly kicking and elbowing nothing but air, and she fell uncoordinatedly to her butt.

“Get out of my house!” she heard a voice yell. Milly swiveled her head around to see who was talking and recognized her kidnapper. He was standing furiously over the man who had grabbed her, who was sprawled out on the floor.

The man quickly scrambled to his feet and stood cowering before her kidnapper’s anger. “If you ever, lay a hand on her again, I will kill you,” he said, sternly and finitely.

“I’m sorry,” the man hurried to apologize, “I didn’t realize—”

“Get out!” her kidnapper shouted pointing to the door, and the other man quickly obliged. Milly knew the reaction was completely unreasonable, but the way he stood up for her made her feel sort of gooey inside.

She and her kidnapper were then alone, and he turned to look at her, slowly stalking toward her. Milly quickly stood up before him, looking at his face uncertainly.

“Why did you leave my bedchamber, Alexandra?” he asked her.

His voice and stance and appearance were all very intimidating. He stood with his hands behind his back, with the confidence of the rich and powerful. His face was all hard planes, and he even had a roguishly handsome scar running from his ear to his jaw. His eyes were black, as were his neatly trimmed hair and straight eyebrows. His voice was deep and rich and self-assured. This was definitely a man who was used to giving orders and getting his way.

“What?” was all Milly was able to sputter out. She thought of her own appearance next to this man. She was tiny and much too skinny, absolutely no match for his hard, muscular strength. While he was perfectly dressed with his hair combed and everything in perfect order, she stood huddled before him with no shirt, her hair in messy disarray.

“I asked you why you left my room,” though his voice was strong and masterful, Milly almost thought she detected a note of gentle indulgence in it.

“You called me Alexandra,” she stammered out, confused. Was Alexandra in some sort of trouble? Did this man mistake her for her friend?

“Yes.”

Milly shook her head. “You have the wrong person,” she quickly explained. Perhaps he didn’t want her after all, and would simply let her go once he realized sivas escort the mistake. This had nothing to do with her. “I’m not Alexandra. You have the wrong person,” she stated again.

The man looked at her curiously now. Taking a few steps forward. Milly fought the urge to step back away from him as he got closer, not wanting to anger him or to seem excessively frightened.

“Not the wrong person, the wrong name,” he told her stroking her cheek with his finger. Milly’s heart stopped at the words, and this time she did step back.

“What do you want with me?” her voice was jello.

“What is your name?” he asked her, letting her keep the few paces between them.

Milly didn’t answer at first. Should she tell him her name? Could it hurt her any worse if he knew her name?

While Milly was debating this, Quinn grew impatient. “Tell me your name.” This time his voice held a harsher demand, making Milly’s breath catch in fear.

“Milly,” she complied instantly, not wanting to upset him.

“I’m Quinn,” he told her, holding out his hand. Milly placed her hand in the offered on, and the large fist swallowed her small one up as he gently shook it.

“What do you want with me?” Milly asked again.

“Sweet Milly,” Quinn said, pulling her to him by her hand. He held her gently and firmly against his chest, and laid his head against her hair. “You are mine now. You will stay here with me.”

***

“Urgh,” Alex yelled in frustration, picking up the spoon and hurling it against the wall. “Why won’t it work?” she demanded of Jasper, who had been patiently sitting by her side for the last hour, trying to coach her into using her telekinetic powers to move the spoon.

“You can’t just wave your hand and expect the spoon to move,” Jasper explained to her, “You have to actually move the spoon.”

“If you say that to me one more time, I’m going to use my telekinetic powers to blow your head up,” she threatened him, making Jasper laugh.

“Like you could,” he teased her, and Alex kicked him in the shin. She was frustrated and tired of staring at a spoon, and she was starting to get a headache from all the concentrating she was trying to do.

“Maybe we should take a break from telekinesis, it is obviously not your strong point,” Jasper told her.

“But you said this was the easiest thing,” Alex whined to him, “If I suck at this, I must suck at everything else.”

Jasper laughed and petted her hair. “Stop pouting,” he told her, “I said it is usually the easiest thing for most mages, but everyone is different. Some witches are especially good at telekinesis and some are good at healing or working with nature. The important thing is just to start small and work from there.”

“Well can we try something else, I’m obviously not getting this,” she complained.

“Well, since the first thing you ever did was pass your body through the floor, perhaps we should try something along those lines,” Jasper said.

“Okay, I’m game,” Alex quickly complied, willing to try anything that didn’t have to do with that stupid spoon again.

“Alright,” Jasper said. He held out his hand and the little silver spoon that had given Alex so much grief before flew into it. He held it out to her. “Okay I’ll hold the spoon, and you try and pass your hand through it.”

Alex stared at him in disbelief. “What is your obsession with the spoon?” she demanded, grabbing it out of his hand. “I hate this spoon,” she said angrily, flinging it at his head. The spoon hit Jasper right in his forehead before bouncing off and landing on the ground.

Jasper looked at her with an expression of complete exasperation, and Alex burst out laughing. tekirdağ escort “Stop laughing, Alex,” Jasper told her, which of course only made her laugh harder. Tears formed in the corners of her eyes as she clutched her stomach with her rolling laughter. Jasper watched her as her laughter died into bursts of giggles, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips.

“Are you under control?” he asked her when she finally looked back at him with a big grin on her face.

“I think so. It was just the look on your face.”

“Are you ready to try now?” he asked her.

“Yes. Just keep that spoon out of my sight,” she said.

“Okay, then try to pass your hand through the counter,” he said, looking to the first thing that caught his eyes.

Alex gently held her hand out and pressed against the solid surface. “You can’t be afraid of it,” Jasper told her.

“I’m not afraid of it,” Alex told him. She lifted her hand in the, and with unfounded confidence brought it down in a karate chop on the table, trying to picture her hand going straight through it. Instead though, it hit the solid surface. “Owww” Alex yelped, grabbing her hurt hand and cradling it against her chest.

“The spoon would have hurt you like that,” Jasper told her, and Alex glared at him.

***

“What are you talking about?” Milly asked hesitantly, stiffening in Quinn’s arms. She wanted to pull away, but didn’t dare to.

Quinn pulled back slightly from his soul mate so that he could look in her eyes. “You’re mine, Milly.” He told her gently. He kissed forehead, then scooped her up into his arms.

Milly wasn’t sure how to react, what to do. The man must be insane, she thought. There was an insane man carrying her in his arms, taking her to who knows where. Milly’s arms hung limply at her sides as the man carried her. He started up the stairs when Milly looked over his shoulder. She noticed her shoes lying in the middle of the empty marble floor. Her old sneakers looked so out of place and lonely lying there in the immaculate entrance hall.

“I left my shoes,” Milly said without thinking. Quinn looked down at her face and back to where they had stood moments before. All of a sudden, the shoes flew off the ground and were in his hands.

Milly started, staring disbelievingly at her shoes. “What was that?” she shouted, struggling in his grasp.

“Relax, Milly,” Quinn told her, holding her tightly as she struggled. “I’m a mage, wizard, whatever you want to call it. I have magical powers.”

Milly stared at him like he was crazy, despite what she had just seen. “It’s okay, Milly,” he reassured her, “You have nothing to fear from me.” Despite his words, though, Milly wasn’t feeling quite so reassured.

“You’re a wizard?” she asked him, her voice incredulous.

“You sound as though you don’t believe me,” he said, and suddenly his arms were no longer around her. Milly braced herself for the fall, but nothing came. Instead she was simply floating in the air in front of him. Milly waved her arms as though to grasp onto something, but the effort was needlessly made. Milly wasn’t falling, she was perfectly securely floating.

“I’m flying,” she said in amazement.

Quinn chuckled lightly to himself before pulling her back into his arms. “I told you I have magic.”

Milly let him carry her, and they walked down the hallways that she had been so afraid of earlier. She realized that he was taking her back to the room she had woken up in. “Why me?” she asked him as he carried her. “I still don’t understand what you want with me.”

Quinn looked down into her quizzical little face. He thought briefly about explaining the soul mate thing to her, but something held him back. He didn’t want her to know how much he loved her, how much he needed her, at least not until she loved and needed him back.

“It’s quite simple really,” he told her, “I want a companion, and you are here, so you shall be it.”

“But you came for Alex.”

“You will do.”

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Prelude

Lara had been such a cocktease; and it’s probably what ended up saving her life in the end.

She was 29, dirty blond, athletic, with a perfectly proportioned slim figure and gently swaying c-cup breasts.

She had recently discovered how nice it felt to show off her naked form.

And since that day, she would come home from work and put her near-perfect body on display to the geeky group of roommates who lived across the way.

It had started innocently enough one afternoon a few weeks earlier.

She had sprinted naked across her apartment to get to her phone. She had not realized that the venetian blinds had been left drawn-up by her house cleaner earlier that day.

The phone call had lasted for over half an hour and she had paced back and forth in front of her windows unaware of the show she was giving to her nerdy neighbors. She was in the heat of an argument with her most recent former boyfriend and spoke unaware that 5 pairs of eyes were following her every move.

When she finally hung up, a cluster of 10 bright spots of reflected sunlight attracted her attention in the windows across the way.

She shrieked in horror realizing that her blinds were raised and that she was standing stark naked in front of the light reflection created by five pairs of glasses.

She immediately ran into her bathroom to get her bathrobe and quickly lowered all the shades in her place.

Lara was thoroughly embarrassed and humiliated.

Yet, later that night, as she replayed the event for the hundredth time in her mind she brought herself to one of the most powerful orgasms she had ever experienced.

Sometime during that afternoon, her extreme shame had turned into a powerful aphrodisiac.

The mortification had kept her hot and bothered. The deep heat of humiliation had constricted her breathing and her whole body had been affected as a knot at the pit of her stomach had nagged her for hours.

Exhausted by the tumult of emotions, she made herself an early dinner that she barely touched.

“Tomorrow would be another day,” she tried to convince herself as she jumped in the shower before bed.

After shampooing her hair, she closed her eyes, and… for some reason… the same scene that had humiliated and troubled her so much began playing like a film behind her eyelids. That time, it was an out of body experience of sorts as she saw herself naked through the eyes of the nerds.

As she lathered herself under the warm water, she was surprised to discover how aroused she was.

Every touch sent shivers up her spine.

She could not recall ever being so sensitive.

Her skin felt hot and softer than usual to the touch.

The pressure that had been tightening in her belly had turned to a liquid heat that was spreading through her entire abdomen.

Breathing seemed more difficult.

When her fingers finally reached her most intimate flesh, she was surprised to discover that the molten lava that flowed and coursed through her veins was freely gushing between the silken softness of her labia.

She almost orgasmed upon that first touch and her legs seemed to bow under her weight. She buckled, unprepared for the flood of passion overtaking her being.

She laid herself down on the floor of the tub and flipped the switch of the water tap to fill the bath.

A sudden craving to explore the deepest parts of the nether regions of her anatomy overtook her.

She raised her legs above the edges on each side of the bathtub and opened herself to the needy passion that was overtaking her senses.

There was no delicacy in her actions. Her yearning was such that she needed to cum right away.

She inserted one finger as deeply as she could, as fast as she could. She could not recall ever feeling herself to be so hot and wet.

But one finger was not enough, she needed more.

She pulled it out and inserted two fingers, then three, then four, until she added the thumb into the mix. All five fingers were now pulled together to form a cone pulling at the tender intimate flesh of her very lubricated pussy.

“Ooh!” the stretch felt fantastic and ecstatic.

She was working her thin feminine hand into her soaked pussy up to the knuckles; her mind fixated on the exhibition she had given earlier that day.

As she replayed the entire scene over, she plunged her sticky fingers into her hungry love hole.

She pumped her fingers in and out. Her desire rising and swelling.

She was now flush with lust, unable to breath, holding her breath as her frenzied penetration brought her to the edge.

“Ooh! Oooh! Aaaaw!” she finally let her breath out as her orgasm burst and flowed through her.

Finally, the memory of the ten glares of lights reflecting off the geeks’ glasses sent her over the edge towards the sweet enthralling abyss of corporal bliss.

That same night Lara brought herself off to several more powerful orgasms.

Caught in an infernal self-perpetuating cycle, she kept on mersin escort thinking about the utter shame of her accidental exhibition; that embarrassment would generate a feverish sexual arousal which would then amplify her shame further. And the more disgraced she felt, the more she masturbated… Eventually, she blissfully collapsed out of sheer depletion and physical exhaustion.

The following morning when Lara woke up, a switch had flipped. Somehow, her internal wiring would never be the same again.

She could not get rid of her desire to feel the all-consuming passion that she had experienced the night before.

Over the course of the following days, she began displaying herself to her captive neighborly audience across the street. The humiliating thought of being observed consumed her.

She was timid at first, only “accidentally” dropping a towel after the bath.

But it quickly became a ritual that she would perform several nights a week. She would shower at 8pm after dinner and would walk around wrapped in the terrycloth material for about an hour. Then she would drop her towel to put her night gown before heading to bed.

The thrill of parading around naked with just a towel was enough to fan the flame of her arousal. It drove her insane with lust. An hour later, when she would eventually disrobe for a few seconds to show herself to the gang, her pussy would be overflowing with the gushing juices of her overheated vulva. Lara knew that the geeks were watching her and that knowledge only fed her yearning passions.

She would be in bed by 10 at the latest, but would not fall asleep before bringing herself off to several powerful orgasms.

As the weeks rolled along, Lara became bolder and bolder with her displays.

Gradually, she started extending the time between when she would remove her towel and when she would put on her night wear. The thrill of being exposed for longer period of times driving up her humiliation and thus her excitement.

After a couple of months, Lara graduated to the point where she would completely strip naked from the time she entered her apartment to the time she went to bed in the nude.

The first night that she had stayed naked all evening, she had been so turned on by her exhibitionism that her juices were dripping down her legs. She chose to give her nerdy fans a treat. She put on a naughty show for them and let them witness her masturbation session. She fingered herself while lying on her belly. It was a long and gentle session of self-love, but she knew that the geeks would love the rhythmic humping of her hips and butt. And she was right, to her admires looking in through her window, the naked girl illuminated by the silver light of the moon lying face-down looked as if she was fucking an invisible lover.

Chapter 1

Then, the unthinkable happened.

The Orange Buffoon had done it.

He had pressed the Big Red button and, in the space of an instant, he had broken the World.

Life on Earth would never be the same again.

Within a matter of hours, half of the world’s population disappeared.

As the attacks escalated, all the major cities in the Northern Hemisphere were affected.

Paris, London, Frankfurt, Moscow, St. Petersburg, Madrid, Barcelona, Rome, Brussels, Amsterdam, Beijing, Hong Kong, Shanghai, Tokyo, the list went on and on. And, in the States, all the major cities were hit.

Lara lived in a small town in Maine, hundreds of miles from any of the major towns.

The town was not directly affected by any of the blasts.

However, radiation poisoning and radiation fall out would eventually affect the entire planet. The outlook for humanity’s survival was bleak.

One of the last action of the decentralized surviving government was to distribute iodine tablets to the survivors.

Then, within a matter of hours, the fabric of society and its rules began to crumble.

As martial law was enacted, the military splintered into factions vying for control of the territory.

The country formerly known as the US was no longer a unified nation.

Vast patches of land were quarantined and abandoned as they were deemed too irradiated to sustain life. Over half of the territory was declared a wasteland, a No Man’s Land. Travel between habitable regions was nearly impossible.

As food shortages started affecting the population, any semblance of civility disappeared.

As people began fighting for food, crime and murder spiraled into daily occurrences. Law & Order were no longer enforced by any form of elected authority.

In some areas, cities and towns descended into the utter chaos depicted in the apocalyptic science fiction of movies such as Mad Max. In these localities, armed groups banded together to pillage and steal whatever they could. They killed, captured or enslaved any survivor that was not part of their clans.

In other parts, concerned citizens organized and formed localized city states in an effort muğla escort to offer some protection from bandits, thieves, and warlords. Unfortunately, these safe havens were few and far apart.

The radiation had cut-up the land into small isolated regional fiefdoms.

Chapter 2

On the day the World ended, Lara was at work at the beginning of her morning shift.

To say the least, everyone was devastated by the news and the boss quickly “closed shop”. All her coworkers were in a hurry to get back home to check-in on kids, husbands, family and friends.

Lara was alone and did not have anyone to get back to. Her family and friends lived in Boston, and Boston was gone. She thought that she would never again have anyone to get back to.

On her way back home, she noticed that people were rushing to the market for supplies. She had gone shopping the day before. From fear of being stuck several days in a snow storm, she had also stocked her closets with all matters of emergency supplies when she had first moved to Maine a few months earlier.

Lara had just temporarily relocated to the small town of Calais in Maine and was working as a waitress at the local diner.

After her latest heartbreak, she had asked for a six-months sabbatical from her consulting firm.

She had picked Calais on a whim.

She wanted to be in the middle of nowhere, far from everywhere, in a small town where nobody knew her.

She also wanted a coastal town. And so, her finger fell on the map on the border town of Calais, Maine.

Out of habit, once she stepped through her front door, she stripped naked as she had been doing for the past few weeks.

She locked her door and went to sit on her couch.

She was in shock and numb after seeing the horrors that had been broadcast on TV at the diner.

She tried to turn on her TV, but could not get a signal.

Frantically, she tried reaching all her family, all her friends in Boston, but alas Boston was gone and not one person picked up.

After the manic episode, she turned catatonic.

For several hours, she sat naked and motionless in her living room.

She only started moving again after about five or six hours when her body spoke up. Her bladder was hurting and she needed to pee, her stomach was hurting and she needed to drink and eat.

She needed to fulfill her basest instincts. Peeing felt good, eating felt good, and drinking felt good and, after the devastating hurt of the past few hours, Lara was content to feel good things.

The sun was setting and a ray of golden light shone through her apartment and illuminated her couch.

Lara sat back down in the spotlight provided by the setting astral light. She did not want the feelings of pleasure that her natural needs had provided to dissipate. She did not want the pain of her sorrow to take a hold of her fragile state.

Grief and sex are sometimes intertwined. Sex is sometimes a temporary bandage in times of deep loss.

Lara needed to feel good and, in the light of the setting sun, she started playing with her needy little pussy. There was no teasing, no foreplay, it was all animal instincts. She raised her feet and put them up on the couch to open herself up in a squatting position. With her left hand, she pulled her labia and lifted her clitoral hood, she then stuck the index finger of her right hand into her mouth to get it wet, and after a few seconds she brought the wet digit to her clit.

It was rough and wild. She needed to get to an orgasm fast and she went straight to her pleasure center to get it. She was rough as she rubbed and rubbed. Her sensitive button was not used to being treated in such a way. She was still dry and the burning sensation was starting to hurt her. It made attaining that sought after release that much harder to get.

But Lara was desperate, she kept on rubbing herself until eventually her body caught on. Finally, her pussy started lubricating the juices that had been missing to make the experience enjoyable.

Lara bucked and tensed as her pleasure started overtaking the stinging biting sensation that she had inflected upon herself. The pleasure that she was longing for began flowing through her body. It felt good to feel the approaching orgasm. She leaned back into the pillows and accelerated her frigging motion until the climax erupted within her.

After that first release, she wanted more and she did not stop.

Over the next few hours, as civilization began to descend into chaos, Lara retreated into a creature in search of the most primary gratifications. She would eat, drink, pee, shit and masturbate until she would collapse only to start over again.

Chapter 3

Across the street, the group of geeks were busy preparing their retreat into the reinforced bunker they had been building for the past few years.

The group were local boys with an age range from 22 to 25 who had grown up together since childhood. Their families were hard working farmers who nevşehir escort did not comprehend their love for science and computers. Their physical ineptitude and their cerebral capacities had made of them strange oddities in town.

To avoid all the teasing, they had moved in together a few years earlier to create an internet startup. Their company had been mildly successful and had provided a very comfortable income for these rural parts. They were ready to take their venture to the next level and were only a few months away from relocating to Silicon Valley when the bombs struck.

Providence and coincidence had conflated at the right time.

They had discovered a 1950’s fallout shelter in the basement of their old building a few years earlier and, over the course of many long, frozen winter months, had transformed the space into a survivalist’s paradise stocked and organized to provide years of sustainable underground living.

They took a look across the way at the beautiful woman who had entertained their lonely nights for the past few months.

Her behavior worried them.

From the time she had returned home earlier, she had acted like a crazy person.

They were surprised to see her strip when she had entered her place. How could she feel like giving her exhibitionist show at such a time?

However, it clearly became apparent that the nudity was not the same as usual.

There was no teasing or playing.

She just sat on her couch and started placing a series of calls. She seemed to get more and more excited as her calls fell through.

Then she stopped moving. For a long time, she seemed as lifeless as a statue.

Then, during her five hours long catatonia, the group began discussing whether they should intervene. As time passed, the conversation escalated. They were all shy and uncomfortable around women and they could not decide how to proceed.

Finally, after much back-and-forth debate, they had resolved to go check on her. However, just as they were about to step out, Lara came back to life.

The nerds looked at each other, relieved.

They did not notice the shift into her masturbatory behavior right away.

The news was emphasizing the need for survivors to find refuge. The radiation clouds would be traveling in their direction in a few hours and they needed to gather any last minutes supplies for the long haul.

As they were busy with their final preparations, they ignored Lara’s beautiful naked form for the first time since they had seen her that first day.

Time was of the essence.

The young men worked all night gathering any and all supplies as they brought them down to their underground lair.

The newscast was reporting that a wave of murder and looting was spreading across the World. Survivors were starting to panic. The fear of a Nuclear Winter was spreading as the clouds created by the explosions began obscuring the atmosphere.

When the morning light arose the young men knew that it was time to move downstairs. They took a minute to watch the rising sun knowing that they would not see it again for a long time to come.

They looked across the way and were surprised to see that their gorgeous neighbor was still in the same place she had been the night before.

She was frantically masturbating in a lurid display of raw sexuality.

The young men looked at each other in disbelief.

The young men had never seen her so raunchy before.

They had admired her naked physic from across the way whenever she paraded around. But, after a few weeks, her game had grown depressing. None of the guys thought that they would ever be lucky enough to meet her or be with her. Though they had admired her beauty, it constantly reminded her of their timidity and their ineptitudes. Recently, they had started resenting the show she was putting on as it had become clear that it was intended for her own selfish enjoyment .

However, today was a different show altogether. They knew that she had masturbated in her bed that one night in the moonlight but she had never put on such a graphically explicit pornographic demonstration. She was frantically and lustfully playing with herself without a care in the world.

The young men looked at each other again and, without even a single word exchanged amongst them, they had all decided that they needed one additional thing to be brought down into the fallout shelter with them.

Chapter 4

Lara had been up all night.

A primal lust had taken over her fragile state of mind.

Over the course of the night, she had descended further into her trance like state. Her universe had closed in on itself and the only thing that mattered was the heat between her legs.

She had chased her grief and sorrow away with furious masturbation.

She only cared and only wanted to seek her next orgasm.

That was the only thing that her mind could process.

She did not hear the door when her nerdy fans knocked on it.

She did not hear the door when they busted it open after several minutes of banging.

She did not react when they walked up to her.

She did not cover up.

She did not respond nor did she run away.

She just kept on playing with her juicy pussy.

The gang did not know what to do.

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Joran stretched with a grunt, carefully undoing the stiffness of a fourth night on the road. So far, his lord’s direction–to travel lightly and quickly, with only Joran, the Scion, and one other Knight–had proven wise. Even after cutting through the woods several times to shorten the journey, they’d yet to encounter even a single monster. Which, Joran thought sourly, was probably for the best. Not for the first time, he cast a glance at Sir Blythe, the other Knight that had been sent. He was fit enough, true, but his village habits were still on him. He had fallen asleep on every watch and acted like the trip was a stroll rather than a mission of crucial political importance.

“Ay there, Joran!” Blythe tossed him a strip of dried meat, as well as a fruit. “Have you tried these? They’re delicious!”

“You know,” Joran examined the fruit carefully, “I can’t say I have. Where did you find them?”

Blythe shrugged, juice dripping into his beard as he chewed into another fruit. “In the woods.”

Joran threw the fruit aside. “Blythe. Do not eat things you don’t recognize in the Wilds. Clear your camp, I will see to the Scion.” He pretended not to hear the grumbling complaints in response and leaned down to shake the Scion awake. “Scion, we must begin traveling again.”

“Hmm?” The Scion’s eyes squinted around. The sound combined with his hair–flattened on either side into a chicken-like swoop–almost made Joran crack a smile. Almost. Instead, he gathered the Scion’s belongings, confiscated the fruit Blythe attempted to share around again, and had the trio on the road in only twice the time he would’ve preferred it to take. He resolved to drive their group faster than usual, both to make up for the lost time and to prevent Blythe from gossiping.

That evening, as Blythe finished yet another ribald tale of his time before the Knighthood, Joran at least consoled himself that they had more than made up the time. At this rate we’ll easily make it to Lord Gareth’s outpost by sundown tomorrow. From there, we can travel faster on the developed roads and arrive at his keep no more than two days after that. He felt a rush of satisfaction at what had, so far, been an easy, albeit tedious, journey. Lucky the spell that Witch cast makes me able to press on with less sleep. I’d have been useless with needing to cover half of Blythe’s watches every night otherwise. Speaking of… He finished concealing his sleeping roll, then walked over to his companions.

“And see, Sir, her dress was near falling off with how tight it was around the–“

Joran interrupted. “Sir Blythe. You will take the first watch. Please prepare your sleeping roll so that the Scion can sleep.”

“Oh of course,” Blythe waved a hand dismissively. “One more night in the rize escort so-called “wilds” before we’re back to proper housing and hot meals. Maybe this time I’ll even stay awake through the full watch!” He guffawed as he walked off to prepare his own sleeping area.

Some part of Joran felt it unfair to blame Sir Blythe for his attitude, nor for his general belief that the wilds were no longer dangerous. Despite that, the whole of him did blame him. He couldn’t imagine Sir Blythe putting up much of a fight against a monster, especially if he fell asleep halfway into his watch again. Still, Joran resolved to be cordial in the manner of the courts. He would simply wake up halfway through Blythe’s watch, as he had been so far, one last time.

The Scion yawned and began to lay down on his unconcealed sleeping roll. Joran tutted, stopped him, and hid the sleeping roll before gesturing the Scion back down. Within moments, the Scion had fallen deeply asleep. Joran stared skeptically down at him, wondering if the boy perhaps took after his mother instead of Joran’s Lord. Either way, I hope this alliance proves as helpful as my Lord expects it to be.

Behind him, a quiet noise. Joran whirled, blade drawn, to see Blythe hurriedly turning away. Joran frowned. “Did you hear something just now?”

“Mmf?” Blythe said as he chewed and swallowed something messily. “No, I didn’t hear anything.”

Joran knew that Blythe must have stashed some of that fruit. He also knew he must still be eating it. He also knew fighting about it would be useless. He’d just have to hope the fruit wasn’t poisonous. Laying down in his sleeping roll without saying anything further, he focused on relaxing into sleep.

Exactly two and a half hours later, Joran’s eyes snapped open. Instead of Blythe’s gentle snores, he heard a wet noise accompanied by grunts. He grabbed his blade, silently extricating himself from his sleeping roll, and looked around.

At first, he had trouble understanding what he saw. Blythe’s blade lay haphazardly over his left hand, which twitched helplessly in time with the grunting sounds. Joran felt a mix of surprise and shame at this evidence that Blythe had fought. Then, resolving himself to not shy away from this first test of his new strength, he really looked at the scene before him. Even in the low light of the stars, he could see three monsters surrounding Blythe. Even with their spiraled horns, furred legs, and hooved feet, they had a wild beauty to them. They each rippled with inhuman muscles that almost overcame their generous curves, both of which one was using to great effect to pin Blythe to the ground. With each drop of her enormous rump, she let out a soft, pleased grunt, leaving cream on Blythe’s swollen sakarya escort rod. Blythe’s eyes were rolled back, and drool gathered at his mouth. Joran was entranced, staring between the look of bliss on Blythe’s face and the full lips of the monster riding him. He was so entranced that, when the other two monsters spotted him, he almost didn’t notice.

The one on the left — taller, but otherwise nearly a twin to the one riding Blythe, spoke. “Oy, goodie! We’d thought there were three of you, but this one wouldn’t tell us where you were. Let’s get to it then aye?”

That was all the warning Joran got before they were on him. His reaction time was fast enough to raise his blade, deflecting a heavy blow from the taller one, then her companion. He whirled, not quite pushing them back but not losing ground either. Each monster fought with an intense, focused strength, but just as clearly without any experience in combat. More than once, Joran was able to use one of the monsters’ blows against the other. And in this fight, unlike his last disgrace, Joran found that his stamina exceeded theirs. After perhaps twenty minutes of this, they were panting, while Joran himself felt as energized as he had when they began.

The taller monster spoke again. “Oy, Penelope, maybe you take a break and help us with this one?”

Joran blinked. Penelope?

The monster riding Blythe responded by moaning louder and riding Blythe faster. Joran could hear Blythe let out a strange gasp, followed by a loud wet squelching.

“Hmm, that’s right,” Penelope purred. “Let it all out for me handsome. It’s a good thing you ate so much of that fruit we left for you, that will keep you nice and full for us.”

Blythe moaned again, hands clutching at the air, and the squelching continued.

I told him not to eat those thrice-damned fruits! Joran channeled his frustration into his next blow, cutting the shorter monster’s arm to the bone.

“Shit, that hurt, you arse! Why d’you folk keep cutting us? To avoid a lay?! Forget this, I’ll get dick at one of the farms like everyone else!” The shorter monster ran on all fours into the darkness of the deeper woods.

Joran furrowed his brow. There are no farms anywhere near here. Before he could process that any further, the taller monster charged him with her horns. Nimbly, he slid underneath and slashed at her knees with his blade. She bellowed, wounds already closing, and charged him again. Joran focused, swinging his blade towards her with more and more force. With a cry and a loud crack, she fell back, a piece of her horn falling to the ground. She shook her head, then ran for it, grabbing Penelope off Blythe on her way out.

“Wait! I wasn’t done!” Her last word faded into the samsun escort night as she vanished with her companion.

Joran listened and prowled the perimeter for any sign of additional foes. Finding none, he stowed his blade and went to check on the Scion. He found him wide awake, staring amazed at Joran.

“I’ve never seen anything like that, Sir Joran. You fight with a ferocity I’ve only heard tale of.”

Joran demurred, his internal grin brightening even as he waved off the praise. With the Scion secured, he turned to the unpleasant task of checking on Blythe. Blythe was still twitching in pleasure, a sticky mess of monstrous juices and his own semen covering his manhood.

“The monsters have been driven off, Sir Blythe. That you fought and did not reveal us is to your credit. I do not see any injuries on you beyond some minor bruising — can you stand?”

Blythe mumbled something.

“What’s that?”

Blythe groaned as he regained some level of lucidity. “It’s bigger…it’s too big.”

Joran glanced down at Blythe’s swollen shaft and even more swollen sack. “I’m sure you’ll be able to sleep it off, Sir. I’ll get your bedroll and take the remaining watch.”

Blythe’s only response was a weak grunt. Joran draped him with the sleeping roll, not confident in his ability to put Blythe inside. Then, he stood watch, pushing away the memory of Penelope’s ass rising and falling. Even with his focus, his own traitorously erect shaft took near an hour to fully retreat.

The next day, Joran cleared camp entirely on his own, pretending that he was unaware Blythe was pleasuring himself in the woods. It seemed that, at least so far, whatever the fruits had done to him was quite permanent. Throughout the rest of the day’s travel, Blythe would excuse himself to vent his now excessive needs. Luckily, the Scion noticed nothing, fascinated as he was with questioning Joran about his personal history and combat prowess. Leaving out both the Witch and his time before Knighthood, Joran was happy to keep him entertained.

In the distance, the outpost shone in the fading light. Joran smiled. Even with Blythe’s slower pace, they’d still managed to reach the outpost. The stamina spell had done exactly as advertised: given him the ability to fight the wilds on his own terms. I’ll need to thank the Witch properly when I return. Perhaps some of Lord Gareth’s wine, or a book. Blythe stumbled back onto the path and stared at his feet before speaking.

“Thank you, Sir Joran. For trying to do right by me. I reckon we wouldn’t have made it here without you.”

Joran nodded graciously. “Think nothing of it, Sir Blythe.”

The Scion smiled. “I’ll be glad to have a hot meal, to be sure. I do wonder if Lord Gareth’s daughter is half as enchanting as those monsters, though.” He started walking.

Joran stared at his back. He exchanged a look with Blythe, who shrugged. They walked after the Scion, towards the Outpost and the completion of their mission. Both tried to silence their feeling that the Scion was right to wonder.

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