Ay: Ekim 2025

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

When I woke Saturday morning, I smelled coffee, but no bacon. And Andrew did not come through the bedroom door bearing a tray. I got up, wrapped a robe around me, and walked out to the living room. Andrew stood behind the partly open front door, guiding the Bradleys out.

Muffled words came from the other side of the door, but I couldn’t catch them.

“Yes, they both have been properly disinfected,” said Andrew. He shut the door and turned.

“Evaline, breakfast is ready,” he said quietly. ” Your friends are at the table. Please, come get the coffee.” Through my sleep-addled brain it took a moment to figure out that Andrew intended that I serve my friends. Normal pleasure ‘bots did not do that work.

Betty, Kiki and Suki sat at the table, definitely looking worse for wear.

“Good morning, ladies. Up for breakfast?”

They groaned as I went into the kitchen, and took the pot of coffee, and plate of pastries Andrew handed me.

“God, Evaline, you’re a lifesaver,” said Betty as I poured her coffee. Kiki and Suki just stared at their cups as I filled them. I poured my own, and took a sip of Andrew’s delicious coffee.

“I hope you had fun last night.”

“I must have,” said Betty. “I don’t remember any of it.”

“Shame,” I said taking another sip.

“Funny thing,” said Suki, “I don’t either.”

“I remember the Jell-O shots,” said Kiki. “Not much after that. When did you have the time to make those, Evaline?”

“Hmm?” I said.

“A note hung on the kitchen door that said to look in the refrigerator if you weren’t home. And we did.”

“Oh boy, did we,” said Betty.

“I kinda remember them now,” said Suki. “Very tasty.”

The women lapsed into silence while I wondered what my devious robot put in the Jell-O shots.

Note to self: put a lock on the liquor cabinet when you change locks on Monday.

But with no memories of the previous night, they couldn’t testify to Andrew’s non-bot like behavior. And I wasn’t going to let them ruminate last night now.

“Drink up, ladies. I hate to rush you, but I’ve got to get to the office.”

#

“I do not understand,” said Andrew as he helped me dress after my friends left, “why you need to go to work on Saturday morning. Does not everyone else take this as a day off?”

I wasn’t in the mood for this. Andrew took real chances in the level of inebriation that he pushed my friends to, the way he orchestrated last night’s ‘festivities.’ My friends would know Andrew for more than an obedient pleasure ‘bot if they reclaimed their memories. Nor did I appreciate him putting our sex life on display. As he stood there, with that constantly smug smile of his, Andrew pissed me off. That he waited for me with there with the new slacks and sweater set he bought for me pissed me off too. In fact, everything about Andrew pissed me off today.

“High profile lawyers don’t get days off, Andrew. I might get a short day here and there.”

“But you need rest. You’ve had a very busy week.”

“What is this?” I said annoyed. “This is my life, Andrew, MY life. This is what I do. And guess what, Sundays I play golf with clients, and then go into the office, and then Monday I get to get up and start the week all over again.”

“You need rest,” he said.

“I need you to fucking back off.”

He stepped back, surprised at the vehemence in my words.

“If that is what you desire, I will back off.” He let go of my new clothes, and they dropped to the floor.

Damn if his robot voice sounded hurt. But that wasn’t possible. It was just an algorithmic response to the intensity of my words.

“What the hell, Andrew,” I said as I retrieved the sweater set and slacks. He didn’t say a word, and stood there with his arms crossed as I put on them on.

“I’m sorry, Andrew,” I said. “You are right. I am tired. I’ll make it a short day, and we can relax in tonight.”

“If you wish,” he said in that pissy tone of his.

I huffed as I slipped on a pair of silk socks that matched the outfit, and a pair of casual brown leather pumps with a low heel. He stood there motionless, not offering compliments on how I looked, not fixing my hair as he usually did. I brushed my hair out to hang loose on my shoulders.

I grabbed my briefcase myself.

“Have a good day, Andrew,” I said. He didn’t reply.

I shook my head and headed out the door.

#

I don’t know why I bothered to argue with Andrew. What difference did it make? He was a robot, a pleasure ‘bot, and I’d let the thing take over my life. That had to stop.

After I made the rounds through the office, greeted the people there and noted who wasn’t, I fetched a cup of coffee. Since I gave Caroline the weekend off, I had to do for myself. I didn’t mind this. I enjoyed the less formal atmosphere of the office on Saturday. There were no ringing telephones, or interruptions by needy associates, or demands from partners. I could focus on the work.

With the prospect of peace and quiet, I opened my muğla escort briefcase to pull out the reports on Cicily the programmer and the case law on non-standard programming.

Not only the main programmer at Androdyne, Cicily Wells ran the company with co-owner and CEO Sinta Grant. Sinta worked the hardware side, while Cicily designed their proprietary software. Between them they created the first toybots, their Andrew series.

Androdyne was to toybots like Apple was to the computing world. They produced top of the line products out the gate. But other companies soon caught up, made their robots cheaper, and added popular features. The cheaper toybots broke more often. That didn’t bother many consumers who grew bored with different features. They’d just trade-in their toybots for ones with newer features.

Androdyne aficionados, however, were legend in their devotion to their Andrews to the point of even holding conventions to celebrate the original toybot. In fact, even the word ‘toybot’ belonged to Androdyne, trademarked along with their first creation. Much like Kleenex refers to tissues, the word toybot became common usage.

I turned the page on the report the PI provided. Cicily Wells died in a lab accident six months prior. There are no details on how she died. Even the police report the PI provided had significant details redacted. What were they hiding? And who hid this information?

I turned my attention to the case law regarding non-standard programming. It was much like I expected. The Programming of Robots Act, passed in 2023, declared programming sentient robots illegal. Robots could only be programmed for specific tasks according to the robot’s function. ‘Global knowledge’, that is knowledge of a myriad number of topics, was not allowed. The only exception went to research. From what I saw, that exemption was supposed to be applied to military research. Was Andrew a military research project?

Different businesses tried to circumvent the law, because you could charge more money for robots that did more than one thing. Most people did not want multiple ‘bots in their homes. A few businesses applied and were granted exceptions if they kept the program narrow enough.

Despite that, the law was unequivocal for consumers. Malfunctioning and/or defective robots must be turned in the government immediately.

What all this meant was that my robot was most definitely programmed in an illegal manner, by legal means, for a purpose that I did not know. The one thing I did know was that Andrew never should have been sold to Peck’s for resale.

My next order of business was the client I took on Friday, Lindsey Talbot. I picked up the file Caroline left for me, thick with research, Caroline’s notes, and the actual court papers. Androdyne filed suit against Talbot Pharmaceuticals for patent infringement. This was weird, because most pharmaceutical development had a special exception under Federal law regarding patent infringement.

I looked over the suit, which involved a product that Talbot called Arti-skin. Arti-skin was synthetically made skin created by mixing recombinant DNA with synthetic components. The product was used to rebuild large areas of skin lost through accident or disease. Arti-skin appeared to be unique in its ability to graft onto the damage area. Not only did it function as the missing skin, but also helped the damaged tissue rebuild.

The problem with most artificial skin was that the best ones were difficult to mass-produce. Arti-skin, however, was not. The coolest part was that Arti-skin would eventually slough off like real skin, as the new skin grew in. For this reason Arti-skin was eyed not only by reconstructive surgeons but plastic surgeons as well. Here was the money pot. If plastic surgeons successfully used Arti-skin in their rejuvenation techniques it would explode the market for Arti-skin. Talbot’s stood to lose a huge market if they lost this patent fight.

Pulling out the development notes, I figured out that a synthetic lattice was used to anchor the organic components to encourage their growth. This was nothing new. A quick review of the history of artificial skin development showed that providing an artificial lattice to organic components was a standard procedure. So what got Androdyne so excited?

Of course, Androdyne wasn’t going to give that specific information in their suit. I pulled out the pleading to see what clues I’d find, and what I could mark for discovery.

Androdyne claimed infringement of intellectual property citing that Talbot’s artificial lattice was the same or similar as the lattice in their patented invention. The underpinning of their claim was that the developer of the Androdyne product was the same as the developer of Arti-skin, Jason Wells.

Wait. Did I read that right? Jason Wells?

My fingers flew over my keyboard to find that, yes, Jason Wells was the son of Androdyne’s programmer Cicily Wells. ordu escort Wasn’t that interesting?

The difference between Talbot’s patent and Androdyne’s patent was that Androdyne patented the actual materials, while Talbot patented the process.

This was all sorts of interesting. First, Talbot’s, by virtue of being a pharmaceutical company, couldn’t patent biological materials, but Androdyne, not being a pharmaceutical, could. The issue was intent. Pharmaceuticals were assumed to produce products used in medicine, while Androdyne produced a product for consumer use.

A second issue was Jason Wells’ non-compete clause. I assumed he had one. Most non-competes had a clause that would prevent an inventor from sharing a previous employer’s proprietary information. The crossover in industries wouldn’t nullify that. I had to see Jason’s specific agreement. I left a note for Caroline to get a copy.

Another issue was why would Androdyne be interested in a biological material, an artificial skin? Andrew’s remark about artificial surfaces irritating human skin came to mind. I remembered my reaction to the softness of Andrew’s mouth and tongue. They felt ‘real.’ Did Andrew’s enhancements include biological skin?

I remembered Andrew’s response this morning about ‘properly disinfecting’ the Bradleys to the person picking up them up. Humans carried a mass of bacteria and viruses, so it made sense to disinfect artificial surfaces. But I never once heard Andrew talk about disinfecting himself.

I had more questions than answers here, and I had to get them soon. There were things I had to do. First, I had to meet Jason Wells and ask him some very pointed questions. Second, I had to find out if I got more than I bargained for in Andrew’s enhancements. Because it seemed to me that Androdyne all along planned to create robots as sophisticated as Andrew despite the current law.

#

Thoughts of I everything I learned that day buzzed around my brain. I had to learn more about Andrew’s enhancements, especially if he did have biologic skin.

We sat on the couch watching a movie. Andrew did his best to get back into my good graces. He’d prepared another fabulous meal, and massaged my shoulders. At this moment he acted wonderfully sweet, putting his arm around my shoulder, and giving me little kisses now and then.

I sighed. I couldn’t let Andrew’s manipulations get the better of me. And it was time to find out a few things.

“Andrew, take off your clothes.”

“Do you want sex, Evaline?”

I shook my head. “I’ve had you here for a week and I don’t think I’ve ever seen you fully naked.”

“Why do you want to see me without clothing?”

“I just do. Indulge me.”

“If you wish, Evaline,” he said.

He stripped, and I stood, looking over his body, front and back. I didn’t see anything that was a different from a normal toybot.

Andrew stood, his body still, but his eyes followed my movements.

“Like what you see?” he said huskily.

I almost huffed. He used a standard toybot line. Andrew must have dug deep for something to say, and only came up with that. He must be thinking hard. I touched my hand to his neck, my fingers splayed wide, seeking anything that smacked of biological skin. My other hand went to his cock.

He stared at me.

“What do you want, Evaline?”

“I want to touch your cock.”

“Why?”

“I’ve had it in me enough times. I’d just like to touch it with my hand.”

I touched his shaft, my fingers wrapped around it. I’d always found men’s cocks a wonderful tactile contradiction. Even when erect, despite the steel within, the outside skin was soft and silky. Andrew’s mimicked this perfectly.

“Do you feel anything when I touch this?” I asked.

“The pressure of your fingers.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“You mean, do I get enjoyment from your touch?”

“Yes?”

“Not in the way you think. My behavioral rewards come from pleasing you.”

I hefted his shaft in my hands, so like a man’s penis.

“Explain to me. Behavioral rewards?”

“It is a complex process. From what Cicily explained to me, algorithms are encoded in my programming that signal when a task is complete. I am programmed to perform a task to its completion. When I please you, I complete a task. To complete a task is my reward.”

“You mean, that not having to do something anymore is your reward?”

“I believe I just said that.”

“So, if I sucked your penis in my mouth, would you enjoy that?”

“I cannot ‘enjoy’ anything. My only reward is to complete the task of pleasuring you.”

“Hmm,” I said. I licked his shaft, enjoying the meaty texture on my tongue.

“And how do you decide what is a task?”

“Whatever it takes to please you.”

“Oh, Andrew, you know every woman wants to hear that.”

“I’m not interested in what every woman wants, only what you desire.”

Such a perfect answer, and yet, it was too osmaniye escort complex a sentence to be included in a toybot’s standard repertoire of lines.

Closing my eyes I licked his balls. They were hairless, and smelled clean and delectable. I drew one into my mouth the texture was so very human. Was this normal for a toybot? How would I know? Despite their offers, I never played with any of my friends’ ‘bots. I might have to do some field research on this.

“Hmm,” I said as I sucked on his balls.

“What do you want, Evaline?” he said.

“I want to please you,” I said. With a slurp, I sucked his shaft whole into my mouth, and swirled my tongue at the end.

“Evaline,” he said, his voice husky, “there is only one way to please me, by letting me make you cum.”

I pulled away. “Are you sure about that?”

He seemed to think about that for a moment.

“It would please you to please me?” he said.

“Yes.”

“If you want to please me,” he said, “we’ll do it my way.”

Andrew pulled me up and put his hands inside the waistband of my sweatpants on either side of my hips.

My breathing hitched. My waist always was sensitive to touch. His fingers slid down the side of my legs drawing down my pants. Then he brought his fingers up the same way and I shivered.

“Always so responsive,” he said in my ear, leaning in against me. He hooked his finger to catch inside the tender folds near my pussy. “Always wet.” His pushed his finger up inside me then and I made a little noise. He moved his finger in and out, his hand under my ass. He turned his hand so my clit moved between his finger and thumb, and his little finger reached up to play with my other hole.

I wriggled on his hand, moaning. He bent his head, and licked a nipple, then sucked it between his lips, sucking hard, sending electric jolts of pleasure through me.

“Oh!”

He let that nipple drop from his mouth, and he sucked in the other one. His other hand cupped an ass cheek and pulled him closer to me. He pinched my ass, hard, hard enough to leave a mark. Between the sucking on my nipple and the pain of the pinch, my pussy gushed.

“Please, Andrew,” I whimpered, totally under his control once again.

He slipped another finger into me, and urged me to rock my hips with his free hand by pressing the space on my spine above my ass. Then he dug his finger into and drew it up my spine as if willing me to cum.

I was burning, a hot ember ready to crack open by the heat of his movements. With a nipple in his mouth, two fingers in my snatch, and his thumb fingering my rosebud, my excitement edged higher.

Suddenly he pulled everything away, and I stood there in a kind of pre-orgasmic shock. My heart pounded, and my pussy protested the lack of stimulation. I felt unable to stand, and it took every effort on my part to do so.

He looked at me, and I swore there was lust in his gorgeous blue eyes. His hand reached and tweaked my aching nipple. Another shot of pleasure sped through me.

“So beautiful,” he said like the words were a lyric to a song.

“Andrew,” I said through dry lips. I shivered, left over shocks of pleasure singing through my overworked nerves. I didn’t know what came next. Would he spank me? Or bend me over the couch again? I stood there, needing and wanting, and he just stared at me.

“Fine,” I said, suddenly tired of his little game. I made a move to walk past him.

He spun me around, picked me up in his arms, and walked forward. He kicked open the bedroom door. My heart fluttered hard in my chest as he lowered me to the bed.

Andrew climbed between my legs, gently drew them apart, and massaged the inside of my thighs. I moaned. His hands moved to my mound, and he massaged it with his firm fingers, drawing out the most delicious sensations of arousal and relaxation. I moved my hips back and forth in his hands and his thumbs pressed on either side of my clit. Tingles of pleasure built a white heat that threatened to bubble into my release.

“I’m close,” I said panting.

“Sweetheart,” he said tenderly. He pressed his cock against the flame that was my slit, the tip edging the inside of it, and I gasped. I needed more, and I greedily bucked my hips to urge him to give it to me.

He thrust, and at once all of him was inside of me. Still he moved slowly, his shoulders rising and falling above me as he raked his cock in and out. Every stroke was so deliberate I felt each inch as he moved. It was incredible and infuriating at the same time. I need more to cum, and he was going so slowly I couldn’t. He built my arousal to levels that drove me insane. My heart jackhammered in my chest.

He kept on with his sensuous torture for many minutes. I whimpered shamelessly, begging him for more, needing to cum. I writhed and squirmed, trying to bring on my release.

“Look at me, Evaline,” he said. “Look in my eyes.”

Breathing hard, sweat gleaming on my body, I met his gaze.

“Now, Evaline. Come now!”

With that, his eyes to mine, he slammed into me, and then again, and again once more. I burst apart, screaming. He kept thrusting, reaching far back into me, and I exploded again impaled on him. Stars shot across my vision. Every part of me broke apart as his shaft reached into the furthest part of me and gripped my soul.

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

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Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

I let out a long groan when my phone rang. I glanced at the bedside clock before I answered it. Eight AM. I tried to remember what day of the week it was before I mumbled, “Hello?”

“Lydia, it’s Bill Harrington. I’m sorry to say that tennis had been cancelled for the day. You can come work in the pro shop if you like but I doubt we’ll have many customers.”

Work in the pro shop? At minimum wage? No thanks. I’d rather go shopping with Wendy. “Oh, thanks, Bill. I made other plans just in case. I’m going to go to the mall with Wendy to get some stuff for the trip on Tuesday.”

“Good idea,” he said. “Is Mike excited about it?”

I glanced over at Mike and laughed. He was still asleep, undoubtedly worn out from our frantic fucking session the night before. “Yeah. He is. What about your wife?”

“Oh. She’s not going. I got Malcolm Wilson to come along. I think you know him. A black guy who was briefly a touring pro.”

“Yeah, kinda,” I said. “That should excite the conference goers.”

“Especially the ladies,” Bill said.

Hmmm. Now the picture of Malcolm became clearer in my mind. Tall, good-looking, dark-skinned, muscular and happy-go-lucky. The panties seemed to like the image I created in my head because they moved around—just a little bit. “Well, I’ll see you Tuesday at the airport.”

When I hung up I gave Mike a nudge. “Hey, sleepy head. You have to get ready for gold.”

Mike rolled onto his side and ran his hand down my body. “Mmmm. I have time.”

I slid my hand over his cock, which, to my amazement, was already as stiff as a board. I crawled under the covers and, in just about total darkness, whispered, “Time enough for this?”

I love early morning blow jobs. It’s so quiet and peaceful and, with the covers over my head, I have to use my imagination to see what I’m doing. I took my time with him, rolling my tongue around the edge of his knob before slowly lowering my head to the point of feeling his pubic hair on my nose. I stayed down, cupping his balls and using my fingers on the little bit of prick that wasn’t in my mouth. When he came the panties squeezed me bilecik escort tight, forcing my juices to flow down my thighs. I left his cock in my mouth until it grew soft. Then I sat up, swallowed and said, “You’d better get going.”

“That was fantastic,” he said.

“I know,” I said, laughing. Then I texted Wendy—get here around ten.

I chose to wear the fire engine red cami topMaggie had given me. It ended just below my boobs and had some fringe hanging down that barely concealed them. I examined myself in the mirror and tried reaching up over my head. When I did the shirt lifted up just to the point of exposing my nipples, but not quite. If I really stretch upward, then they would pop free. I remembered distinctly what Maggie had said about it-You go braless in this and the bottom of your boobs might peek out. Nothing like a bottom of the boob shot, eh?

I got excited just thinking about guys trying hard to see more of my tits than the top, when worn normally, this it, would give them. To complete my outfit I chose to wear some loose shorts that showed off a lot of my thighs.

Then I pondered what to give Wendy. I decided on the sleeveless, dark green cotton blouse that laced up the front. With her boobs, which are larger than mine, she’d be giving peeks all day long. When she showed up at my house I breathlessly told her to take off her top and bra and put on the blouse.

“Jeez,” she said. “This…um…is quite open.”

“Not as quite as I want it to be,” I said. “Let me make some adjustments.” Just as Maggie did with me I made a few adjustments with the laces, letting my fingers accidentally brush against her nipples a couple of times, and then led her to a mirror. Once again I repeated Maggie’s words from memory. “See how it’s open at the top and forms a V shape as it does down? If you want you can let it be open up to your belly button. See how you can see the sides of your boobs? The lower you take the opening the more your boobs will be exposed. Lace it up right and you can let a teensy bit of your nipples show. Let me manisa escort tell you—guys will get instant hard-ons when they see you in that. Plus, those tights jeans show off your ass really well.”

“Gosh,” Wendy said. “If I’m going to be with you in that outfit I’m not sure anyone will be interested in checking out someone my age.”

“Don’t make me laugh,” I said. “Come on. Let’s go to the mall.”

No matter where we went I could sense that all eyes were on us, especially when we went into a jeans shop and I tried to reach a pair of jeans on the top shelf. I stretched up so high that my top popped up over my nipples. After I adjusted my top a nervous young man appeared next to us and, stammering, asked, “C…c…can I h…h…help you?”

I remembered that Maggie saying something about no one being able to lie to me while I was wearing the panties. In a low voice I said, “You want to fuck us, don’t you?”

The young man struggled not to be honest, but mumbled, “Yes.”

“Which one,” I said. “Which one do you want to fuck?”

He pointed at Wendy and said, “Her. She reminds me of my neighbor and I’ve always wanted to fuck her.”

I admit that I was surprised, but I nudged Wendy and said, “See?”

“Yeah,” she said. “Let’s get outta here.”

“Already?”

“Uh huh.”

I was having so much fun that I didn’t want to leave but, since Wendy did, I drove us back to my place. The moment we walked in the door she grabbed me and pulled me into the bedroom where she yanked my top over my head, pushed me onto the bed and then pulled my shorts off. I was so stunned I could barely get out the words, “Wendy. What the…”

She pulled her top over her head and, while shimmying out of her jeans, growled, “What do you think? I just have to taste your pussy.”

To say I was shocked is an understatement. I was more shocked when Wendy climbed onto the bed, lay on top of my and locked her lips on mine. Soon we were making out like teenagers, grinding our pelvises together and driving our tongues into each other’s mouth. When she came mersin escort up for air Wendy moved her chest from side to side so her nipples could float over mine. Then she proceeded to kiss her way down my body until she found my pussy. I almost exploded when she her tongue hit my clit.

“Wendy,” I said, gasping for air. “Let me do you, too.”

“Yes,” she said. She spun around so her hips were over my face and pressed down on me. I lifted my hips so she could get better access to me and, when I did that, she pressed down harder on my face. Soon I was almost drowning in her juices, but I didn’t mind—she smelled sweet and tasted sweeter. I felt her spread my cheeks and ease the tip of a finger into my butt. I returned the favor but, in my case, I eased one finger from each hand into her butt. Soon we were driving each other crazy with lust. When she came, Wendy screamed, sending vibrations up my body. I screamed as well, my orgasm as intense as a tornado. We fell limp, lying head to toe, until she turned around and lay next to me.

“I…I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t know what came over me.”

I knew, of course, but couldn’t tell her about the panties. She would never have believed me. “Don’t apologize,” I said. “I loved it.”

“I…I guess I should go. I’ll leave the top…”

“No,” I said. “Take it home. I’m sure Bob will love it.”

****

It took all the energy I had to prepare dinner. Just as I slid a lasagna into the over Mike came into the house, took one look at me and said, “Jesus. Did you go to the mall in that outfit?”

“Yes,” I said. “Do you like it?”

“Fuck, yes,” he said. “How long before the lasagna is ready?”

“Forty-five minutes,” I said. “Time enough for us to sixty-nine.”

“Really? You always have a hard time coming that way.”

“I assure you, I won’t this time.”

I made sure I was on top of Mike so I could drive my hips down on his face as hard as Wendy had driven down on me. I was hoping that he would use his fingers on me the way I had used them on Wendy and I wasn’t disappointed. After spreading me apart he made sure his fingers were lubed and then slowly, very slowly, began to ease two fingers into me. I was in Heaven, especially when he blasted a stream of cum down my throat at exactly the same time I was in the middle of an orgasm.

I was so exhausted! I was happy that the next day, Monday, was my day off. I was certain that I would get a break from the panties.

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

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The dolphin was in its crate, packed with 24-hours worth of dry ice. The naked young woman, shyly covering herself, was slowly melting on a buffet table at the Four Seasons. The trophy was finished, waiting in the freezer to be crated. Karen was done for the day. She lay on the couch for a long moment, just recovering her energy.

As an ice sculptor, she didn’t get to fill galleries with her artwork, hoping someone would purchase something. Her most magnificent pieces would never grace a museum. Everything she made had a limited lifespan. Within hours of delivery, her greatest creations would be puddles of water.

But now, for once, she’d made something for herself. Rest time was over. It was play time.

Karen grabbed up the box she’d brought home. It had taken weeks to find the thing. It hadn’t been played with in twenty years. She’d searched her parents’ attic and basement and her grandmother’s storage shed. She’d finally located it in a bag of Halloween costumes in her cousin’s garage.

She carried her package into her refrigerated studio. For a moment, Karen just studied the masterpiece on the worktable. He was a tall man, handsome and well-built. His hair was curly and clipped short. His features were Greco-Roman. His hands were broad, with thick, suggestive fingers. His arms and legs were finely muscled, no flab or steroid veins marring the magnificent contours.

His cock was a thing of beauty, Karen congratulated herself. She’d sculpted it carefully and meticulously, shaping the perfect penis, a dick any man could be proud of and any woman would love to ride.

Karen took her package and climbed onto the table. Iceman was a foot and a half taller than she was, which delighted her. She loved to be dwarfed by a man. And his shoulders were broad and thick. She had never made anything finer in her life.

But now for the test. She opened the box and pulled out a ratty top hat. As a child, the games she and her friends played with this hat had been the most incredible experiences of her entire youth. She had tried to convince herself that it had all been in her imagination, but she couldn’t quite let go. This hat had shaped her entire life. She had become an ice sculptor because of this hat.

Karen stood on her tip toes, her fingers trembling as she reached up and set the hat on her creation’s head. For a long, timeless moment, nothing happened. Karen sighed in disappointment.

Then Iceman shuddered. Tremors vibrated through the figure. Solid ice flowed like flesh and bone.

Iceman looked around the room. He studied his hands. bayburt escort The ice was shiny, reflective. He could see his face in his palm. Finally, he looked at Karen and smiled broadly.

“Happy Birthday!” said the Iceman.

“Frosty!” Karen sighed. “It’s good to see you.”

“You’ve grown up,” he said.

“You like?” Karen asked, hopping off the table and spinning for his inspection.

“Oh, I like,” he said. “I like a lot.”

Karen took off her heavy parka and dropped it to the floor. She pulled off her sweatshirt and tossed it away. Her t-shirt went flying, to land on a block of ice, waiting to be carved. Her snow pants fell to her ankles.

“Beautiful,” he said. “Erotic. You give me a hard-on.” Karen laughed at that literal truth. She had lovingly designed that penis, already erect and rigid as thick ice.

Shivering in her bra and thong, Karen gave another spin, then walked out of the freezing studio. “If you want me,” she said, “Come and get me.”

Back in her planning area, Karen waited for her icy friend to follow. She’d long fantasized about trying this. She’d been practicing making men of ice for years, always remembering that magic hat from her childhood, wondering if it would still work. When she’d sculpted this magnificent male, she’d known that it was finally time. This one was perfect. And as the shining, translucent figure came out of the freezer, she praised whatever god had made that hat in the first place.

“I’m here, Frosty,” she said, standing next to her napping sofa. She intended to do something much more interesting than sleeping this day.

“Frosty is a child’s name,” the Iceman told her. “I am no child. You can call me ‘Frost.'”

Karen nodded, her eyes wide and bright. “Anything you say, Frost. I’ve been waiting a long time for you to return.”

The giant stalked her across the room as she eagerly awaited him. Frost reached for her with both hands, easily tearing her bra and panties and throwing them to the sides. He grabbed her by the waist, his cold fingers gripping her tightly. Karen gasped at the icy touch on her skin. She squealed as her feet left the ground and she was hoisted up in the air. And she shrieked as she found herself kneeling on Frost’s shoulders, her pussy pressed to his chilled lips.

It was a dreadful shock, the freezing cold lips against her heated sex, but Frost’s tongue was stroking her clit, and she quickly adjusted to the cold. Her bare thighs were pressed to his frozen cheeks. Her naked legs were resting on bartın escort his frigid shoulders. And that agile, wet ice cube in his mouth was probing her welcoming pussy.

Karen grabbed his head and thrust against his face, positioning her pussy right where his tongue would be the most effective. Frost sucked on her clit, and slipped his tongue inside her. He licked the lips of her pussy and chewed on the soft hairs guarding her entrance. Karen came, shuddering and shivering, as the Iceman feasted on her cunt.

But he wasn’t done yet. He lowered Karen to the floor to start stage two. But Karen wasn’t ready yet. Frost had just given her a magnificent orgasm. She was a firm believer in fair play. Karen dropped to her knees and did what she’d wanted to do since she’d first shaped that beautiful cock. She opened her mouth and took him between her lips.

She sucked on Frost’s cocksicle, letting her tongue go numb from the cold, swallowing the glacial, watery pre-cum that came from his tip and melted from his shaft. But she didn’t want him to shrink to nothing in her heated mouth. Reluctantly, Karen released him. She desperately wanted Frost to fuck her before he puddled on the floor.

Karen stood up and moved to the couch, lying down and spreading her legs in invitation. “Come on, Frost,” she said. “You know what to do.”

Frost grinned at her. “Oh, happy birthday to me!” he said. He came down on top of her like a slab of ice. His frozen cock plunged into Karen’s hot pussy, making her gasp with pain and wonder.

This might kill her, she realized. Hypothermia was no joke. But, trembling with cold and fear and desire, Karen was willing to take that risk.

“Fuck me,” she begged him. “Fuck me hard!”

Frost drove himself into her, shoving his massive cock deep in her pussy. For years, Karen had dreamed of this possibility. She’d shoved ice cubes up inside herself. She’d used popsicles as dildos. She’d broken an icicle off her mailbox and fucked herself with it until it melted away to nothing. Now, finally, there was a real cock, made of magical, living ice, thrusting in and out of her.

Karen was coming again, spasms rocking her body, grunts and gasps and little screams emitting from her mouth. Frost silenced her orgasmic cries by covering her mouth with his own, shoving his tongue inside, mimicking the more intimate invasion happening between her legs. Karen wrapped her thighs and arms around him and let the tremors take her.

Frost rode her willing body like a bucking bronco. He ığdır escort took her like she was a cheap whore, holding her down and taking his pleasure without a care to the damage his icy dick was doing to the delicate tissues of her cunt.

But that’s how Karen wanted it. She was a whore. She was Frost’s whore, Frost’s slut. Karen was the Iceman’s bitch. Frost was welcome to fuck her to death if he chose.

But Frost had different ideas. He came up off of her, and dragged Karen to her feet. He wasn’t done fucking her, but he could minimize the risks a little. He spun her around, shoved her feet apart, and pushed her face down onto the sofa cushions. He threw a blanket over her head and shoulders, then grabbed her hips, took aim, and drove himself deep inside her again.

He was rough, and violent, but Karen didn’t care. And it had gotten easier. Frost’s cock was smaller than it had been. The heat of her pussy had been melting the beautiful dick she’d carved for him. But the man was an expert in the use of his tool. Even diminished, he was hitting just the right spots, bringing her to orgasm yet again.

And this time, Frost joined her. He went as deep as he could, holding tight to her hips, making damn sure she couldn’t retreat from his piercing cock. He came, deep in her cunt, spurting icy cold meltwater into her. Karen pushed back against Frost, trying to bring him as deep as possible as he poured into her.

When he let her go, Karen tumbled to the floor. She was shivering uncontrollably, chilled inside and out by the Iceman. Frost threw his head back, panting and sweating his skin off. He roared to the ceiling and the heavens in masculine triumph and conquest. Today, he had lost his virginity.

But Karen had no time to share in his achievement. She’d only been this cold a few times before, but she knew what to do. She ran to the corner bathroom and turned on the shower. Hot, hot, hot water. But it would be too much of a shock to get in just yet. Karen wrapped herself in blankets and let the steam warm up the room.

Only then did she look at her lover. Standing there in his victory pose, his arms outstretched, his legs in a wide stance, his head thrown far back, his magic hat had fallen to the floor.

Karen let it stay there. Frost was nothing now but a melting ice sculpture. Karen needed to rest and warm up before she could think through the experience she’d just had. Frost had given her one hell of a good fucking. But he was dangerous. Next time, there would have to be some precautions.

But the hat worked. And her old pal, Frosty, was perfectly capable of dealing with her as an adult. In a few weeks, maybe months, she’d sculpt a new Frost, an even better one. If she gave him two cocks next time, he could take her front and back at once.

Musing over her future plans for the snowman, Karen watched his current incarnation slowly drip, drip, drip into the rug.

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Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
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The planet is drifting in weightless eternity. Its oxygen rich environment is nearly earth like in every aspect. Even its appearance is a green jewel in a colorless black void. It offers a breathtaking view unlike anything in a thousand light years. Despite this, the world is so mundane that it’s currently neither colonized nor catalogued. But for the people in orbit, it offered a beautiful view that would be ultimately fatal if not for the plexiglass window. Despite having the planet filling the the observation window, the man looking out could barely see it. The badge on the man’s burgundy polo says: David Lynch, the proprietor of the expedition.

This man had a nearly chiseled jaw that made him seem almost like a model if not for his numerous other imperfections. For example the perfection of his jaw is ruined by the slightly crookedness of it. The man’s piercing ice blue eyes couldn’t be seen because they were glassy and cloudy. They were also contrasted by his sunken cheeks and the deep rings around them. At this moment his hands are pressed against the glass.

David muses about how at one point the thought of finding a earth like planet seemed laughable. He had no problems seeing the humor in that. Realizing he’d been keeping the bridge crew waiting while he sated his contemplation, he turns his undivided attention towards them. Leaving the view for all but the gods to see, he flips a switch for the internal coms.

“It’s recorded that one of my oldest relatives saw bright lights in the sky. He was a soldier in the civil war who fought at Gettysburg. At the peak of the fighting and the violence, his brigade wiped out very early, the survivors no longer fighting for honor or their homes. But for simple survival itself. He claimed he saw an angel, heaven opened up to him; that he must’ve died at that battle.

Though his belief were forgotten because many believed him to be suffering survivors guilt. About six or so generations later, another one of my ancestors was studying ancient artifacts discovered in Mesopotamia ruins. Archaeologist concluded that they couldn’t have been constructed with the current technology level. At least unless the Sumerians had microchips and circuitry. This mystery lead one of my ancestors on a journey that would span the globe from the heads of eastern Island to the pyramids of Giza. He eventually discovered something and wrote to his colleague in oxford. There was a plan to meet up. But then he disappeared.

We’ve always been on the cutting edge of the question of why. I mean why are we hear? Why is life possible?” David’s comment is met with blank stares and silence. “I see my audience isn’t one to spout philosophy.”

A balding man with a thin wirey mustache slaps the chest of the man nearest to him. “We’re just a bunch cargo monkeys.” The man next to him, a tall broad chested gentlemen with a blunted face looks annoyed at the guester, but at least agrees with sentiment.

“I certainty want to know,” David says turning around and extending his arms in a grandiose gesture. He was about to put on a spectacle that he was known for. “So close to knowing the truth. Now I’m staring at those alien who visited us when artvin escort man first walked upright.”

“All I see is rocks, it looks like a hell hole.” It’s spoken by a young crew member named Trinity. He had no idea if that was her real name. She obviously spent far to much time working out. But on the long journey between planets there isn’t much to do. She had lost all of her curves and was starting to get a man’s frame. The manly appearance is made worse by her hastily cropped hair. With the room being a chilling 59 degrees, it’s a mystery how she is sitting in a white tank top and short shorts. But she isn’t the only odd person in the room nor the strangest of the group.

No, that was the young hispanic woman Nicole Brennan. He could see her in the back of the room, large deeply set eyes half covered up by her hair. The rest of her body is obscured in shadow. He had notice the thrumming of her pencil against the desk in one long continuous motion. Her outfit consists of a black leather jacket, dark purple T-shirt, and knee high cross stitch boots running up to meet a plaid skirt. David couldn’t possibly think anyone could be more bizarrely dressed for the occasion.

Behind them is a hologram being projected onto a thin sheet of glass, no more than a inch across. Images of the planet craggy, barren surface flip across in rapid succession.

“You have to see past that Trinity.”

“That was six hundred years ago. What are you doing chasing Ghost stories,” ask Nicole? She had been sitting silently except for that damn thrumming. The woman’s comments were not well received nor were the tone of voice she took with him.

“I don’t like your attitude. But despite my grievances, your not alone in that view. Much of my own family forgot about it’s history. Growing up my father had no time for these stories, treating them as little more than my family’s ghost stories. But there is proof. “

“You have definitive proof?”

“You think I would drag you out here without proof?” He taps a button revealing a massive alien craft. “My scientists say it’s over a billion years old. Finding an alien craft is a amazing find by itself, but to find one that’s older than mother terra herself. That’s probably the biggest discovery since faster than light travel was discovered and Albert Einstein laws were rewritten.”

“How did you find it,” is the question asked from a stocky man with glasses named Scott Everett. He is surprised to know the man’s name given the fact the man did his best to go unnoticed. Not in a malicious sense, but as a highly introverted man who like his privacy.

“I spent hundreds of thousands of dollars studying ancient earth artifacts and cross referencing with known alien cultures. I charted space routes and calculated star charts. For what? Half of my life wasted. Everything I’ve worked for and some old cargo ship goes off course and finds it.” Stunned silence

“So you were what? Not looking for aliens? What just stealing the credit?” Trinity just couldn’t give it a rest. He would have her relieved of duty and confined to her quarters.

In the back, a woman is keeping aydın escort to herself. The woman blows a tuck of dirty blond hair out of her face and pouts her lips without being consciously aware of either action. This crewmen is practically the only one dressed normally wearing work boots, tucked under jeans, and a lab coat. She has a sudden idea and blurts out amidst the silence, “So you assembled this team to excavate the ship.” David nods and concludes the meeting.

“We found ancient ruins that predate any known civilization. You name it, any of the alien civilizations; this one predates it. At the very least they been wondering about the meaning of life a hell of a lot longer than we have. There so many little mysteries never answered. The ruins on this planet match ruins discovered on earth’s ocean floor. Ruins that were once said to be natural and not created by some lost civilization. It’s proof of outside help. Not to mention that the pyramid all line up on earth. There species must have gone extinct some 500 million years ago. Well anyway, get your gear. Your explorers.” He says becoming impatient.

////planet fall

The Airstotle is a medium size cargo excursion vessel and in high anchor. It was nothing compared to the alien spacecraft. The ship would be later described as a experience, breath taking. Each member had a different reaction to seeing the vessel. The scientists of the group began shouting at each other with excited voices. The salavage group stood silently with slack jaws. Their armed escort weapons drop to their sides; their face permanently etched with a look of confusion.

The scope of the object completely shut Trinity down. Her hazel eyes were transfixed on the object. It’s roughly shaped like a horseshoe, built around several pods connected by thick tubing. In the middle is a large shaft built down into the bottom of ships superstructure and running down through the pods and connecting to the ships free floating bridge. The ship had been built of a material unlike anything she had seen before. She couldn’t even tell if the material is organic in nature or some kind of alien metal. But it was cool and smooth to the touch. The strange material looks like obsidian and seems to defy existence, lacking angle or dimensions. She would look at the exterior hull and the light reflecting hues and brilliance would change. Parts of the ship seemed blocky but became sleek depending on the angle. It was quite disconcerting, like an optical illusion.

A massive door is built out of the same impossibility, sealing off the eternal workings of the ship. “I should be able to open it, without blowing it open,” says the stocky man from earlier. The man is currently and rather unsuccessful trying to keep his glasses on his face while holding a massive briefcase. The frames were broken and held together with tape. Two of his female colleagues connect the doors to a computer and let the internal artificial intelligence run tests as they talk amongst themselves.

The doors open. “That was quick,” David says.

“I didn’t do …”

The entire expedition force takes a noticeable step back balıkesir escort and silence falls over the group. “You first,” says the woman with cropped hair. Despite her normally stoic exterior, you could see the cracks in it. Her normally soft eyes were filled with dread. There is member of David’s expedition, a woman named Karyn, because she told him multiple times that it’s pronounced Karine. She is the first to step into the twisting fog that had escaped during the ships unsealing. Karyn is a woman with curly brown hair, shapely figure and an apple bottom. Her only less attractive features were her large forehead and prominent brow. Even with this she had plenty of feminine wilds.

Instead of looking like something you would expect, the sleek insides of futuristic ship, it looks like some long forgotten ancient ruin. The inside is made of a black metal that looks like tar. The walls have symbols etched into them that become holographic at random and each one represents a scenes being reenacted. One such scene catches the eye of Karyn. Those bright eyes of hers catch a glimpse of something impossible. “There are dinosaurs on this ship.”

“That impossible,” David says rushing over to join her.

“Look,” she says pointing to a holographic projection. Sure enough there is a large bipedal reptile covered in feathers with a slender snout and cunning eyes. It’s chasing something.

“It proves my theory; actual proof that aliens visited earth.”

“More than that,” Scott says suddenly pausing mid sentence after becoming distracted. “What the hell. I’m detecting life signs throughout the ship. Closest one is just above us. These aren’t prerecorded videos; they’re live. This place must be some kind of ark meant to preserve life.”

“What the hell, its bigger on the inside,” Trinity states. “It big, but not big enough to hold all these animals.”

“I’m registering nearly 14 miles across.” Scott responds in a matter of fact tone after staring down at his data pad.

“Well,” David says after watching the hologram for second. “We should investigate. Scott, take us to the closes life signs.”

The black shimmering metal gave way to rolling fields of ankle high grass.

Atmosphere has change along with the density and oxygen levels. Scott says reaptedly changing the setting on the scanner looking for a glitch in his equipment but finding none. Something is holding the atmosphere in here. The ground is dirt and grass is real. I’m going want my team in here.”

David gave a curt nod but isn’t interested. He is more focused on his surroundings. He had stepped into a large field surrounding a massive rain forest. The plants were mostly ferns. There were no flowering plants in sight. “There are no flowering plants. These are prehistoric.” Odd saying it for something current. “But flowering plants came after the Cretaceous period.”

A reptilian creature the size of a four story building comes lumbering towards them. The creature grunts and gives them a stupid stare from behind droopy eyes. Then clumsily lumpers off.

David tries to follow after it. “Woah, hold up.” Jake says raising his hand in protest. “What if they stored some bad shit. I may not be black but I know how this happens in the movies. I don’t want to end up food for something or contact some deadly disease.”

“It’s all fiction on the old earth holo-vids. No doubt will have to keep it in quarantine. We don’t want a repeat of small pox blankets. Contact the Isaac. Tell them to rendezvous with us immediately.”

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
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Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
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Author’s Note: Thanks be to Krissta for editing duty. Thanks to everyone else for your enduring patience. Hope you enjoy!

*****

Ulf Bloodwrath was studying a wooden penis, and he wasn’t quite sure why.

It had begun when he’d reported to the training fields earlier that morning only to find Ulag, the proving master, bearing down on him like an oncoming hurricane. The old orc had then spent a good ten minutes bellowing loudly in Ulf’s face about the dangers of defacing the training equipment before shoving Ulf into the armoury. It was then that he’d first seen Nullik and things started to make some sense. His friend, pack mate, and occasional bane of his existence had been sat waiting after having already received a loud scolding from Ulag. During the night it seemed that someone had crept inside the proving grounds and had scribbled some very scandalous suggestions about the questionable presence of master Ulag’s testicles across the training armour. They had also taken the time to carve several of the fighting clubs to look like male genitalia. Because of this, Ulf found himself in the odd predicament of regarding a large wooden carving of a shlong, wondering what in the almighty shit-pits was happening.

He looked up from the wooden pecker and narrowed his eyes at Nullik.

“It wasn’t me!” Oddly enough, Nullik seemed to be quite genuine for once. He was a consummate prankster, but he couldn’t lie about his antics without bursting into laughing fits. Not even to save his life.

“Well who else would be this idiotic?” Ulf grumbled before walking over to the bucket of water and taking out one of the rough scrubbing cloths to begin cleaning up the mess.

“I don’t know, but I want to find out.”

“So that we can beat them senseless for getting us into this mess?”

“Actually, I was thinking of buying them an ale and swapping suggestions.” Nullik grinned as he regarded a chest plate that poetically suggested Ulag had enjoyed several improper dalliances with mountain goats.

“Nullik, so help me if I find out this was you I’ll-“

“It really wasn’t! I know I like a joke, but I’m not exactly this . . . eloquent.”

“No. No you’re not.” Ulf grunted and picked up another chest plate to start scrubbing.

It took the pair of them almost the entire morning to clean off the obscene writing from the armour and then to go out and carve some new training clubs to replace the ones that had taken on a phallic appearance during the night. Nullik was clearly the chief suspect, and given his past actions Ulf could hardly blame Ulag for suspecting him. As the leader of Nullik’s pack, it was Ulf’s duty to share the punishment. It hadn’t exactly helped that his pack mate often stopped to show him some of the more imaginative insults scrawled on the armour with a tone of gleeful reverence. It was like watching an amateur craftsman admire the work of a master.

Annoying as that was, he didn’t truly believe that Nullik was the culprit. For one thing, Nullik’s usual pranks weren’t quite so overt. So he told the younger orc to get some lunch with the rest of the pack whilst he took the final box of wooden trouser snakes to the jungle to be burned. Obviously, Ulag wanted the matter taken care of with discretion and Ulf didn’t want to get even further into the proving master’s bad side. In truth, he didn’t particularly want to get caught carrying a box of dong-shaped weapons around the camp at any rate. Things like that tended to start rumours.

He made his way alone out along the path to the forest, feeling his stomach rumbling in protest at walking in the opposite direction of where his lunch was waiting for him. To pass the time, he thought of numerous ways to beat the living snot out of the phantom trickster that had gotten him into so much unwarranted trouble. He found a quiet and secluded spot and used some kindling and flint to set the box of wooden man-rods alight.

That was when the hand reached out from within the foliage to grab his shoulder.

Reacting without thought, he shifted to the side and grabbed the wrist of his would-be stalker before twisting around to lock their arm in place in an attempt to render it useless. The move was instinctive, well practiced and far too old fashioned to work on the owner of the hand. As Ulf tried to lock the arm, his assailant gracefully flipped backwards to render the twist useless and bent her arm to smash an elbow into Ulf’s face. The stunned expression on him was priceless. All that remained to be done was a simple hook of her heel behind his leg, followed by hard shove to send him careening off balance and falling down onto his back.

He recognised the sultry laugh that followed and it immediately set him at ease. That relief only lasted a moment, and he quickly tensed up again as the fear and excitement of battle was replaced with embarrassment. He felt a pleasant weight descend upon him and the world stopped spinning to allow him to see the beautiful jade coloured face of Ulla Strongblood kütahya escort resting over him. She pinned him to the grass effortlessly, pushing his wrists down against the earth over his head. It gave him quite a view of her plentiful chest, snugly held back by a thick strap of fur that couldn’t quite contain her curves. Instead, it offered a spectacular view of her deep cleavage merely inches away from his nose.

“Yield?” she asked.

Ulf squirmed beneath her, he was stronger than Ulla and he could have overpowered her. Unfortunately for some reason his heart wasn’t quite in it, especially when his struggling caused her luscious breasts to jiggle so enticingly inside her top. She grinned when she saw where Ulf’s eyes were fixed and took the opportunity to quickly smash her forehead against his nose. The impact took a considerable amount of the fight out of him.

“Yield.” This time she said it as more of an order than a suggestion.

“Fine! By the First, Ulla. What are you doing here?” Ulf growled the words whilst she released his hands so he could rub his sore nose.

She lifted herself up over him on her knees, settling her rump down on his lap and extending her arms above her head to stretch out in a languid victory pose over her fallen opponent.

“Nullik said you’d gone into the jungle to burn something. I followed you out and brought you something to eat, dear alpha.” She turned her head and nodded to the linen bag she’d brought with her before seeing the opportunity to sneak up on him.

Ulla was one of the Runts. They were considered the weakest pack in the proving grounds, though Ulla’s problem wasn’t that she couldn’t fight. One-on-one she could have probably taken out half of the encampment. Ulla’s problem was that she couldn’t listen. Teamwork was an almost alien concept to her and she’d been through five other packs before finally falling in with the Runts. All of the other packs had rejected her because she simply wouldn’t do as she was told.

Ulf had kept her, and for that she seemed to have developed a grudging sense of gratitude. Though Ulla’s thanks often came with an ass-whupping the like of which he’d just received. If he was honest, he hadn’t kept her with them because she was a useful member of the pack. She was headstrong, she didn’t get on with anyone, and in a true battle she would probably get them all killed.

He’d allowed her to stay simply because looking at Ulla Strongblood had quite a strong affect on him. She was strong, fast, and a great fighter. It was only right that he should respect that. At least that’s what he’d told himself for the past year she’d been with his pack. Lately, however, even he had to admit that it was much more than respect that kept his eyes wandering over to her whenever the opportunity presented itself.

Those wandering eyes of his hadn’t gone unnoticed by Ulla. She quite enjoyed the way he looked at her when he thought she wasn’t paying attention. Others looked, of course. Why shouldn’t they? She was Ulla Strongblood, younger sister of Rowun Strongblood. She would be a prized mate for any male if they could best her. She had already started getting unofficial little challenges for her affection the previous year, and had even begun to accept those challenges two months ago. So far none had managed to claim her affections in direct combat and she hadn’t felt that any of them deserved for her to go easy on them.

Ulf on the other hand had kept his interest to himself for some reason. He was the noble sort, with a high name of his own to live up to as one of the son’s of the warchief. He hadn’t tried to challenge her because it might have made waves in their pack and he didn’t want to lose her as a pack mate. It was a shame. Ulla felt Ulf’s strong body between her legs and decided that she might not fight her hardest against the idea of rutting with him. When that thought crossed her mind she smiled down at him before pushing her firm rear back to rub herself against the soft lump of his loincloth. It did not remain soft for very long.

“Ulla! What-” Ulf started to ask before she leaned over him and placed her fingers across his lips to hush him.

“I just saw you out here, burning a box of suspiciously cock-shaped clubs and wondered if you collected them because yours didn’t work. I’m very glad to report that I was wrong.” She grinned wickedly and wiggled her hips to feel him beneath her. “It’s a big one isn’t it? Perhaps one made for two hands?”

“Will you quit it!” He growled and shoved her off him as she rolled over onto her back and laughed. Instead of pouncing him all over again, she reached over for her linen bag and opened it up to show him the cuts of juicy beef and fresh bread inside.

Ulf licked his lips and walked back to her, urged on by the inviting smell that had emerged from the bag. Within moments he was sat beside her on the forest floor, munching on the beef and bread whilst Ulla watched him curiously.

“I malatya escort thank you for this.” He said after the third mouthful.

“You’d have done the same for me.”

“I would.” He nodded.

“So, why are you out here burning cock-clubs? Should I be worried?”

The question got an unexpected laugh from Ulf. “No. Someone carved them out of the training clubs last night. Ulag thought Nullik was to blame because, let’s face it, it’s nearly always Nullik who’s to blame for such things.”

“Well I was going to-” Ulla started but fell silent when she saw something else catch Ulf’s attention.

It didn’t take long for her to pick up on it. Battle! The blood warmed at the prospect and she scrambled to her feet along with Ulf to run through the forest in the direction of the noise. The ringing clash of metal along with the grunts and yells of combat called to the young orcs like some sweet siren song.

Ulla was ready to burst right out of the foliage and attack whoever dared to fight in their territory. Instead she was only allowed to let out a strangled gurgle of objection when Ulf grabbed her wrist and pulled her back. It was just like Ulla to run straight into any fight. He preferred to at least check that they might stand some chance of winning whatever brawl they were getting into before diving chin-first into the conflict.

Peering through the leaves, he was immediately glad that he’d stopped Ulla. Largely because a full-on attack would have seen them charge out to lay waste to their newest pack mate. Gregory Hopkins, the first human to be allowed into the proving grounds in centuries, was engaging in a fierce sparring match. It wouldn’t have looked favourably on the Runts to have accidentally ambushed one of their own members. They had enough problems already.

The second reason that springing out into the fight would have been a terrible idea came in the form of who Gregory’s sparring partner was. Algra Strongblood was one of the most renowned warriors of her people. She had been the life-mate of Rowun Strongblood until he had fallen in battle. Despite having lost her mate and her status it was evident from watching her that she had definitely not lost her skill in combat. Ulf heard a low, dangerous growl rise from beside him. Ulla had lifted herself up having recognised Algra. Ulf knew little of Rowun, other than what his legends spoke of him. He’d never asked Ulla about her brother, but from the way she tensed with a vicious aggression at the sight of Algra it was clear what she thought of her brother’s life-mate.

The pair of them stayed hidden and watched Algra deftly sidestep Gregory’s strike before closing the distance along his outstretched arm to plant a solid elbow in his chest. Ulf winced, knowing full well that the young human’s chest had been badly injured only weeks before on the proving grounds. The move stunned Gregory and he stumbled backwards allowing Algra to press her advantage, kicking him backwards to smack loudly against the trunk of a tree.

“Yield! Yield already. Damn it, Algra,” Gregory said, woozily trying to bring his vision back into focus.

“That was pathetic. Slow. Poorly timed and you continue to use your head too much,” She gave him a disapproving clout over the back of the aforementioned head in an effort to get him to snap out of it.

“Well, I did consider just taking my head off at my shoulders and putting it to one side, but I don’t think that would make me fight any better.”

“That is not what I mean, idiot! And if you go into a true battle like this then someone else will soon do that for you.” Algra started pacing in front of him. “All warriors need to use their head in battle, but we think of the long-fight. You use your head to think of the short-fight.” She stopped to jab a finger into his sore chest.

“Ow! Huh?”

Algra outright snarled.

“Wait! I’m with you. I’ve just never heard of the idea of a long-fight and a short-fight before. You’re saying I should stretch it out? Tire out the opponent?” He looked over Algra’s incredible physique. Tiring her out would probably take him several days.

“No! The long-fight is taking into account of yourself, your ground, your advantages and disadvantages. Then finding a way to use it all to put your enemy in the dirt.”

“Well that’s what I’m doing!”

“No, you are thinking of each punch, each kick, and each dodge. The short-fight. You are letting me set the speed, force you back into bad ground, and take all the advantages whilst you think about these things. The short-fight should not be where your mind is. Act. React. No thinking. Save your thoughts for winning the long-fight.”

Gregory considered that advice and then finally brought himself to his feet.

“So, any advice for fighting the short-fight without thinking about it?”

“You already do. That is why it is so vexing that you do not.”

Gregory tried to analyse that one but batman escort his brain wasn’t playing along.

“What?”

“When we first met. You beat me soundly.”

“Yeah, but that’s because you were desperate, not thinking properly, and you didn’t think I knew how to fight at all.”

“I was. You saw that. You saw I was too angry and I pressed too much, so when you hit back it was . . . unexpected. I fell. It was a good move.”

“Well I was pretty shocked, so it was mostly just-“

“Instinct?”

Gregory nodded, beginning to understand what she was driving at.

“When you beat the mad boy. That was instinct too.”

“That wasn’t shock. That was out-and-out rage.”

“Why do you think orcs use our anger in battle? It helps to keep our heads out of the short-fight. Let the rage and the power and the training carry that. Keep our brains on the long-fight.”

“Well, when I lost it with Freddie, I wasn’t thinking about any long-fight. I was way too angry.”

“Then find balance.”

He nodded and took a fighting stance to indicate he was ready. Normally he’d consider which stance to start out in based on his technique but he took Algra’s words into account and just opted for something that felt good and solid. She let out a low growl of intent and then launched into an attack. What did he have over her? She was a legendary warrior and he was basically a novice with very little actual combat experience. He studied her as he blocked two of her attacks and dodged the third. Instead of letting her push him back, he shifted to the side and countered. Algra blocked his strike but he hadn’t meant to really take any advantage. It wasn’t time yet. She was aggressive, agile, and incredibly fast. She was also probably stronger than he was. No advantages there. Wait, that wasn’t exactly true, was it? She liked to spend a lot of her time during combat in the air. Her legs were always in use shifting around to deliver devastating kicks and leaping from one stance to another. That could work to his advantage.

With a plan in place, he decided to use another of Algra’s weaknesses that had worked for him in the past. Low expectations. They both knew she was the better fighter and she’d gotten frustrated with him for not doing as he was told.

So, he decided to not do as he was told.

Her next blow made him shift back onto muddy ground, she pressed her advantage quickly and used his lack of mobility to deliver three hard strikes across his thigh, belly, and chest. That was fine, he was expecting them. They still hurt like hell, but it was a sacrifice for the long-fight. He used all the traction he could get to leap backwards and press his back against a tree. Algra growled with fury as he allowed her to easily take the favourable ground yet again and she leapt up to deliver a finishing kick to his stomach.

Gregory saw it coming. He’d pushed himself back to the tree on purpose. Using it as leverage to push himself off, he went straight for her as she spun in the air and delivered two open palmed blows to her side. The attack immediately unbalanced Algra and though she managed to slam her knee against his ribs, she didn’t get the full force of the blow and was instead forced to expend all her energy in finding her feet once again. Gregory was shoved backwards against the tree, but Algra managed to land on her feet and stay upright, though now it was her standing in the mud.

“Better,” she approved. Then she launched herself forwards again to continue the bout.

Still hidden in the foliage, Ulla grinned her approval.

“He learns fast.”

Ulf nodded his agreement. Though he wasn’t certain that it would be fast enough.

“If he is well, then he should return to the pack,” Ulf noted.

“Well if he’s as useful as he was last time, we’re better off without him.”

“That’s not the point, Ulla. He has a duty now.”

“The human is barely a week out of his sickbed, Ulf. And he looks to be training to fight rather than readying himself to run. Give him another week before telling Ulag he’s ready to return.”

The idea of letting the human have a holiday whilst the rest of the pack trained together hardly sat right with Ulf. He frowned at the decision and considered that Gregory didn’t seem the type to back down. Ulla was right. He wasn’t going to run. Then, when she reached out and put her hand on Ulf’s shoulder, she made his decision easier.

“He get’s a week. No more.” Ulf said.

“Good, now come. We must return. Let us leave the human to his fight.”

They both heard the sudden sound of a loud thud and a low groan of pain before turning back to see Algra stood over Gregory who she’d just handily dumped into the mud, face first.

“Maybe we should give him two weeks.” Ulla suggested.

Ulf let out a passive and unimpressed grunt before turning away to walk back to the camp.

* * * * *

Lydia heard the familiar noises coming from within the tent of the courtesans before she even laid eyes on it. As she moved closer, she could discern the familiar deep male grunts sounding out in rhythm with her friend’s almost melodic feminine moans. It did not take a mastermind to figure out what she was about to walk in on, and after knowing both of the suspected subjects for years it would certainly be weird to just drop in on them mid-coitus.

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Prologue:

The old man looked up at the clock with a smile coming to his old face. His bones creaked and groaned with the ravages of time. “Guess it’s about time dear, it’s almost that hour. It will be midnight in less than twenty minutes and when the clock strikes that predetermined hour, we will be corporal. I wonder if this year will be as eventful.

The old man’s smile never wavered as he got ready for the night’s festivities, knowing how special they were. Having celebrated them for more years than he could have counted. He got the old bowl out. The one for this special occasion. That old bowl was eye-catching; the bright orange paint that it was covered in along with the depictions of skeletons, bats, and pumpkins had always drawn an eye or two.

Once he had filled it with a mixture and variety of candies he was ready and right on time as the clock dinged and danged. He knew it wasn’t midnight everywhere but in that one little part of Ohio it was. That was what mattered. It was Midnight Halloween 2023 and like every Halloween he planned to do his part, a part he played before Halloween was even a thing. He took his bowl and stepped out onto the porch waiting to see if anyone was destined to come visit. He loved how fate could intertwine and change.

Chapter 1. Bitey

That was it, Sebastian thought as he kicked the can down the road. He had enough of their bullying. He wasn’t dense, He got it he wasn’t like the other kids in the school. He wasn’t one to care about sports or trying to prove how strong he was. He could care less about impressing the head cheerleader. That bimbo thot was so far beneath him.

It wasn’t his looks that got him bullied far from it, though he never felt fully comfortable in his body. He had the wide strapping shoulders of a football player. Though he never worked out he had muscles on muscles. He looked like he lifted several times a week. He was a natural during gym class; it didn’t matter what type of athletics he was forced to do either. He had just come from good genes with his blue eyes and blond hair. He had taken the best parts of his mother and father.

It wasn’t his looks least not directly and he couldn’t help being held back a year. That wasn’t his fault that his credits from Europe hadn’t transferred over to the new American high school. That had been the catalyst that had started it all moving. He had been an outcast in Europe but at least they had the social doctrine not to bully or belittle him. That wasn’t the case in America where anything went. He thought as he continued to make his way down the road still kicking the can..

He felt his thoughts suddenly shifting and changing, pulled almost like a magnet as he walked down the desolate sidewalk. His attention turned to an old Victorian style house. He smiled to himself as the architecture reminded him of growing up, as his eyes looked over the old house that seemed to be in immaculate condition. He felt the sudden urge he hadn’t felt since his youthful days trick or treating.

The holiday hadn’t always been popular or famous as he grew up, but like most American culture it had seeped into his small sleepy little European town. He had to admit there was something magical and special about getting candy that one night a year.

Before he knew what he was doing, he found his feet moving of their own violation. Making his way up to the house. The well-manicured grass had a spurt of Halloween decor, some fake ghosts and a few pumpkins and a skeleton or two. The pathway was lined with candles all burning in luminary bags shaped in various Halloween cutouts.

The closer Sebastian got, the more he could make out the porch which was so warm and inviting. There was a pull he couldn’t deny, and he could see a bowl of candy and an old man. Once he was close enough, he could see the smile on that old man’s face which seemed to warm his very soul.

The man looked ancient; he had to have been in his eighties, but he had a full head of hair, and was immaculately dressed in a Halloween costume much as Sebastian. kırklareli escort He wore Victorian era finery, a blazer with cape and well-tailored pants. He didn’t sport a top hat like Sebastian, but the illusion was complete.

“Hello and good evening, sir.”

Sebastian said with his best vampire accent. Showing his fangs as he bent at the waist giving a bow. He suddenly felt more alive and at ease than he could have remembered being in a long time. There was something about this moment that just felt right. He knew instinctively he was at the right place and the right time.

The old man stood tall, returning the bow as his bones creaked and groaned. He secretly wondered in the back of his head how many more years lay ahead. Standing back up he smiled a tooth smile that showed his own fangs.

“Welcome youngling, what brings you to my door on this night of mischief and mayhem perhaps a treat?”

The old man said in a perfect vampiric accent as he motioned to the bowl, full of all sorts of goodies.

The wind took that very moment to howl and pick up as Sebastian’s eyes scanned over the bowl seeing something he hadn’t seen in years. It was a wax candy from his youth, this one shaped like a bag of plasma. The fluid inside a bright crimson red called to him.

Smiling remembering his youth, Sebastian bit off the tip, swallowing, before squirting the bright red liquid into his mouth. The sugary sweet confection. Spicier than he remembered as his tongue seemed to burn and his lips tingle. Soon the candy was empty, and he was chewing on the wax bag it had come in.

Sebastian was so lost in the moment he didn’t even notice the changes starting to take effect as the old ancient man watched. He watched as Sebastian’s skin started to pale. Sebastian’s hands became a ghostly pale white that looked as though they never saw a day of sun. His face soon had the color drain from it along with the rest of him.

Still Sebastian was completely uninfluenced by the rapid changes, his eyes in fact tightly shut as he savored the sweet, delicious candy treat. He could feel it running down his throat like liquid heat. The cinnamon he thought was a bit overpoweringly spicy but in a good way, as he continued to change.

His hair was next as the old man watched, Sebastian’s blond locks soon taking on a darker tone. The roots taking on a jet black that seemed to bleed out rapidly turning the boy’s hair to a dark vibrant void like hue. That seemed to drink in the light around Sebastian. His eyebrows likewise changed, becoming far more manicured, the tips sharp angles.

Suddenly without warning Sebastian’s eyes popped wide open as changes continued along his body. He could feel the odd sensation of his costume against his skin. His body hair having completely vanished he was left hairless from the eyebrows down. His new smooth skin rubbed enticingly against the rougher fabrics of his costume leaving him tingling and excited. His trousers starting to tint as a blush came to his pale cheeks.

The old man continued to watch politely as possible, he was not a lecher or morally corrupt. He was more of a shepherd or perhaps a ferry man he thought. His job was simply to help guide lost souls to their proper place in the universe. He smiled watching as Sebastian changed knowing there was still plenty more to come. That the boy would soon find himself complete.

Raising his hand Sebastian was completely taken back by what he saw. His once tanned skin was now as pale as moonlight on a full moon. The more he looked the more he couldn’t help but notice his fingers looked different, somehow more delicate and daintier.

He watched as his hand shrank, becoming smaller. His fingers became a little longer as his nails became well-manicured growing out, he watched the nails tapper into sharp points that reminded him of talons. The nails themselves seemed to take on a black polish that left Sebastian confused and blinking.

Yelping he felt more changes starting afyon escort to overtake him as his costume seemed to grow bigger and baggier, his frame shrinking down. His muscles were becoming more compact and denser. He wasn’t losing any strength. On the contrary as his muscles became denser, he became far stronger. Stronger than any mortal would have the right to be.

He was growing taller and he was already a healthy six foot tall, but he seemed to be growing upwards. Letting out a delicious moan of pure erotic delight he squirmed, feeling the soft fabrics rub against his bare skins, enticing pleasures he had seldom felt.

Once he was done growing up and shrinking. He was no longer the boy with large shoulders and an intimidating frame. He would no longer be the envy of football players everywhere. He would have been the envy of any basketball team. He stood proud and tall, his shoulders much more compact. His muscles lean and flexible. Sebastian felt as though he could run a marathon and do gymnastics. Which both would be proven possible in time.

Sebastian felt simply radiant, but the changes hadn’t been completed as he felt a fresh wave of changes overtake him. Centered more on his face than anywhere else. He blinked as his eyes felt dry and then started to water. The whites of his eyes turned a haunting black hue as the blue started to fade from his iris soon replaced with a crimson red that seemed to almost glow with the light of the moon on the porch.

Like a light switch had been flicked Sebastian could see everything in clear vibrant detail. He could not only see in the darkness, but everything was crystal clear. He could see the outline of the trees and the way the light from the moon spilled down through the leaves. He felt as though he could see for miles if he chose to.

He knew deep down he should have panicked he should have been upset. He just couldn’t bring himself to be. The pleasure he felt certainly helped his feelings. That wasn’t what had truly calmed his nerves. Instead, he just felt a rightness like this was where he was meant to be. This moment in time this place. This wasn’t destiny but prophecy almost as though he waited his entire life for this moment.

Glancing at the old man that had started this journey he gasped, looking at him he saw something that wasn’t there before. The old man had changed or perhaps Sebastian had just changed. The old man wasn’t old at all, and he wasn’t a man. Sebastian couldn’t put into words what he was seeing but he understood when a sense of awe took him over. The old man’s smile put him at ease as he felt the fear bubbling up inside himself.

“No need to be scared, I won’t cause you harm and it’s a true gift to be able to see my true form.”

Sebastian simply dumbly nodded understanding how true those words were curiosity getting the best of him as he turned his gaze to the street. He gasped he could see much more than before. He could clearly as people walked past but there was more than that. He could see a faint aura surrounding them. He could see lines crossing through their bodies all leading to a central point in their chest, almost like a lightning strike he understood what he was seeing.

“That is their circulatory system.”

“That is correct young man and as a fledgling vampire your sight isn’t perfect, but it will mature as you do. Though you will need to learn to control your urges, the last thing you want to do is drink someone dry. They are people, not umm.”

The old man paused for a moment searching his memory for the new terms that kids used in this century.

“They’re not juice packs.”

Sebastian was once more at a loss for words, which was to be expected with everything happening to the young man. The changes hadn’t finished as they focused on his face. His cheeks became softer and more round, his nose far daintier and more delicate. His lips soon plumped slightly leaving him with full kissable lips that looked odd in place on his pale skin. His plastic fangs amasya escort soon changed, becoming real. He felt his new fangs taking shape and finding their place in his mouth.

He let out a small shriek as he ran his tongue over their razor-sharp edges. Knowing instinctively, he would need to be more careful as the taste of copper and salt filled his mouth leaving him tingling all over.

Blinking he wondered if his changes had been completed but there were still more tasks to be done. His hair grew out longer and longer escaping down his back and stopping right above his backside, a backside that had filled out at some point leaving his pants slightly tight around his waist.

Then almost on cue his costume started to change, the fabrics became lusher and of higher quality. The silk was softer, the linen more durable and the fit tailored to Sebastian’s new physique. The top of his Jabot coming open partially exposing his hairless chest. The leather of his boots became the finest tailored leather.

The fit was outstanding and immaculate and made Sebastian feel amazing. He felt better than he had ever been before. He felt powerful, beautiful, and that the world was right. He looked around for the old man and noticed that he was auspiciously missing.

“Don’t worry young man, was only getting you something to drink. I know you must be famished after such a change. I don’t want you to go out and drink one of the locals dry. That wouldn’t do anyone any good, as I mentioned before they are not juice boxes.”

The old man chuckled, handing over the bag as Sebastian looked it over confused. Reading the label, it dawned on him as hunger seemed to overtake his senses. He wasn’t hungry before but now he was starved. He took the bag and instinctively bit into the top. His razor-sharp fangs pierced the plastic with ease as he started to suckle the coppery contents of the bag.

Soon Sabastain felt a renewed vigor and the hunger subsided, his head was clearer than ever before. He looked at the old man in awe wondering who or what he was exactly. Though tonight wasn’t the night for answers. The old man just smiled.

“Few things you might want to know young man, as a fledgling vampire a lot of what you have heard is just myth and superstition but some of it is real. Like for starters you’re going to want to stay out of the sun. While it won’t kill you outright it will give you a nasty sunburn far nastier than anything you could dream up as a human. Another thing is that you can’t enter a house without an invitation.That is pish posh. Crosses will not harm you unless you’re evil.”

The old man paused looking him up and down nodding to himself before continuing.

“The final few things are you’re going to want to feed at least 2-3 times a week. I am sure you can find plenty of local blood banks happy to part with a few bags of plasma for the right price. That doesn’t work though you can always drink animal blood. Don’t worry if you want to feed on a person, you won’t turn them, just be mindful you don’t drain them completely dry cause you can kill them. Also, it’s worth mentioning you’re immortal and completely immune to all diseases. Though like in the stories being decapitated or staked through the heart will kill you.”

Sebastian tried to take all this in, there was so much to it as the old man stood towering over him. He picked up the candy bowl leaving Sebastian to his thoughts as he went inside. Then as though by some sort of magic the entire house started to shimmy and fade. The porch changed under Sebastian’s feet, the wood breaking, cracking, and becoming sun bleached. The door hanging slightly askew and the yard becoming overgrown.

Sebastian blinked a few times wondering if he imagined it all had he been high? Then when he looked down at his hand, he knew how true it had all been. Licking his lips, he could still taste the copper of the blood in his mouth. He also knew he was given a great gift and he would enjoy it completely. Though he would have to figure out on his own if he could see himself in mirrors. He was curious about what he looked like now.

Stepping off the porch he looked back one more time and could have sworn he saw the man’s face in the cracked window that stood near the porch but like a fleeting shadow or a wraith it was gone, and Sebastian made his way out into the world. A new world that he had yet to discover.

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Scott woke up to a buzzing sound.

“So you creatures finally decided to use it, eh?” A female voice echoed in his head.

Scott couldn’t see where he was. Everything was black as if he was blind, or was he back in space? he wondered.

“No, you are not in space.” The female voice continued as if she had read his mind, “Listen to me, on the eve of the summer solstice an army of Claves will come for you. Remember they don’t who or what you are. So just play it safe and try to be really discrete about the technology inside you. They may already be living among you.”

“Clave? Who is this ‘they’? Also who the hell are you?”

“Just someone who wants to help you save this universe from- “

Scott heard the sound of tables tumbling.

“I got to go, just remember, don’t use the machine in crowded areas.” The voice sounded panicked now.

“Wait!” Scott yelled, “I have some questions.”

Scott woke up to a pleasant feeling in his genital region. He looked down to see a bob of red hair going up and down on his eight-inch-thick cock.

“Hey.” Nina Adams said letting go of his cock with a ‘pop’ sound.

“Hey.” Scott replied smiling, “So that really happened?”

Nina smiled back and started playing with his balls while stroking his cock.

“It really happened.” She said and kissed on the tip, “What were you dreaming about?

“Not sure.” Scott said, still not sure what the two dreams he had after the Gear installation, were about.

“Was it about me?” Nina asked.

She immediately regretted it. She was angry at herself for sounding needy. She barely met this guy a few hours back and she already wanted him to dream about her?

‘What is wrong with me?’ She thought angrily.

“I wish.” Scott replied as he saw the red head’s expression change to one of frustration.

Nina nodded at him, acknowledging what he had done for her and started to deep throat him.

Meanwhile, three floors above Nicholas Adams was still pondering whether what he did was the right thing. Hitting an eighteen-year-old with a car and killing him was never part of his plan. ‘Just beat the kid to death’, he had said to the thugs as he paid them quite a hefty amount. But they went ahead of their way and killed him. He could still see the terrified expression of his employee, Sarah Peterson, as the bleeding, completely disfigured body of her son was dragged onto a stretcher to the Lab Room. She was crying nonstop. Being a parent who has faced a similar situation he could relate to how terrified she was. He was pretty sure he would have died of guilt if it was not for the Gear bringing the son back. The last two test subjects both died a horrible death when the Gear was installed into them. But this kid had a high acceptance rate to The Gear…so far.

Nicholas blamed himself for the death of Scott Peterson. This wouldn’t have happened if he’d never met the three men in black on that fateful day.

A few years back the men in black appeared outside his doorstep with a circular metal thing that very much resembled a miniature alloy rim. He never got their names but they gave it to him and asked him to transplant it into a human and see the magic happen. These black suited men had no distinctive features. They were very plain looking. Average joes. Before they gave him the metal thingy, they warned him not to say a word about their existence to anyone or else he will face the necessary consequences. He gulped down hard and did what was told of him and became responsible for two deaths. He didn’t feel much guilt because those two test subjects were already on the verge of death. He just sped it up, albeit in a gory, insides spewed all over the walls kind of way. But that did help him and his employees to figure out some of the working of the machine which by this point he had started to call as The Gear.

The Gear needed a recharge every seven days give or take one. It seemed to work better when the subject was aroused. It can give mind boggling regenerative abilities to a compatible human. Though the ‘compatible’ human was splattered a few days or in some cases even seconds later.

His lab people reverse engineered The Gear and made a couple of artificial ones. They worked almost exactly like the original Gear but the test subjects showed signs of decaying after two or three days. They collected some more test subjects, most of whom were willing. The Artificial Gear or The A-Gear as he liked to call it, killed every single one of those test subjects after the period was over. And the government sanctioned lab was shut down until his daughter met with the accident. A careless drunk driver hit her during red light!

She was rushed to the hospital but the doctors after extensive surgery gave up and told him to prepare for the worst case scenario. In a desperate last attempt, he took his daughter’s comatose body to his lab and with the help of a few of his trusted employees, infused an A-Gear into his daughter. Her body regenerated like nothing he had ever seen before. Her bones, skin, tissue, ardahan escort every single thing reconstructed themselves. But as soon as she regained consciousness, Sarah Peterson, one of his trusted employee mentioned to him that his daughter needs to be aroused to keep The A-Gear functioning.

It was weird and strange for Nicholas to hear that but he knew deep down that it was the only way to keep his daughter alive. So he asked one of his younger employee to perform the deed.

The Government gave them permission to reopen the lab if similar results could be reproduced but without the need for arousal to keep The Gear activated. Ever since that day they have been working hard to find an alternative method to keep The Gear active.

It was all going well for a few days until two days back when the three men in black returned. But this time they didn’t come bearing a gift. Rather they came with a warning.

They explained to him in pretty gory detail what would happen to his daughter if he doesn’t attach The Gear to the inside of a boy called Scott Peterson. They didn’t specifically say why him. And before he could ask the same, the three men in black disappeared just like that.

As luck would have it he discovered that Scott Peterson was none other than the son of one of his employee, Sarah Peterson. The smoking hot forty something head lab technician in the research wing.

She was a rare gem among his employees. She always brought him results.

Considering all the test subjects of The Gear were dead, he decided to take matters into his own hands and hired a couple of hooligans to recreate the accident his daughter had.

And one day later the body of Sarah’s son was brought into his building in a stretcher. First one of The A-Gear was attached to him. Nothing happened. Not even the wall spewing thing. Then they removed it and attached the original gear to him and what happened next was nothing short of a miracle.

By this time, his daughter, for some really strange reason had a conversation with the mother of the subject. Sarah hugged her tightly. They were in a distance but Nicholas could see Sarah’s lips move to produce a ‘thank you’ to his daughter. She was really grateful to whatever his daughter had said to Sarah.

He soon came to know that the one who was going to perform the deed on the successful test subject was none other than his own daughter. He felt terrible while he watched his daughter getting naked, getting her perfect breasts sucked on by a complete stranger. But soon he lost his inhibitions and started to finger the subject’s mother. He was scared for a moment that she would slap him or something but instead she reciprocated his actions.

Now thinking about it, Nicholas was feeling conflicted. He was happily married and as far as he knew, Sarah was also happily married.

What the fuck happened to us during the activation!? Was what Nicholas was thinking when somebody knocked on the door to his office.

“Come in.” Nicholas said, after a while.

Sarah Peterson walked in.

Nicholas quickly stood up, “I am really sorry for what happened.” He apologized.

“Look.” Sarah took a deep breath and pulled back a strand of her black hair back, “What happened was wrong on so many levels. Let us just ignore what happened and not talk about it.”

Nicholas was hurt, no, he was disappointed, “But it felt good right?”

“It doesn’t matter. I am married. You are married. What we did was a onetime thing.”

“But- “

“Look, I am not here to talk about that. So if you are going to keep at it, I will just leave and come another time.”

“No no.” Nicholas quickly said, “Stay. Let’s close that chapter… for now.”

“Forever” Sarah added.

Nicholas sat back on his chair, “So what were you here to talk about?”

“Mr. Jenkins couldn’t translate what The Gear was emitting. But he did say he has seen the language somewhere before.”

“Did he say where?”

“No. but my guess is Alvatra, the origin of the Gear.”

“Maybe” Nicholas said, “How is your son?”

Sarah was surprised that her boss cared about her son.

“He is fine. In fact-“She stopped midway.

“In fact what?”

Sarah looked at the floor visibly embarrassed.

“Are they both going at it again?” Nicholas guessed.

“Sorry, I am leaving now.” Sarah apologized and walked out.

Three floors below, in the lab room, Scott already had his tongue inside the opening of the red head.

“Aaah.” Nina moaned, “Just…like….that. Make me cum in your mouth.”

Scott used his right hand to rub her clitoris to increase the pleasure.

“No no.” Nina protested, “No I will-“

Scott tasted her juices before she could continue saying whatever she was going to say.

“You liked it?” Scott looked at her, smiling, as he licked his lips clean.

“Obviously” Nina said looking away ashamed.

“Aw. Come on.” Scott climbed over her body trailing kisses all over. When their lips met adıyaman escort they kissed passionately. Their tongues intertwined and wrestled with each other.

“You ready to fuck me?” Nina asked breaking from the kiss.

“Thought you’d never ask.” Scott said and pushed his hard cock inside the red head’s vagina.

“Ooooooh my Gooood!” Nina moaned, “Were you…waiting for my permission?”

Scott didn’t reply instead he started to suck on her beautiful pink nipples while his cock went in and out of her. He took turn sucking both the breasts.

“Do you have a girlfriend?” Nina asked.

Scott was surprised with that question. He stopped what he was doing. That question came out of nowhere and Scott was pretty sure what was coming next.

“I will take that as a no” Nina chuckled and threw the surprised Scott down onto the lab bed in such a way that she was the one on top now.

She balanced herself on his knees and started to ride him to ecstasy.

Scott groped her breasts and started to tweak her nipples.

“Can I…aaah…play with it….just like that…aaah….be your girlfriend?” Nina asked in between the moans. She looked at his beautiful black eyes. They were full of lust as well as surprise. She waited for a reply. None came. She was disappointed.

Scott blamed himself for not giving her an answer. He barely knew this girl and she already wanted to be his girlfriend. What is happening to my life? She was the most gorgeous female he’s ever seen in his life. Still…

“It is alright.” Nina said hiding her disappointment and starting to ride him faster. It wasn’t long before they both came hard.

She fell on his chests and gave him a small peck on his cheeks.

Scott took a deep breath and looked into her beautiful blue eyes, “Look it is not that I don’t think you are amazing but we barely know each other. I don’t want any hindrance between us. So how about we first go on a date, my treat, and take it from there.”

Nina couldn’t believe it. Most men would fall head over heels for having her as a girlfriend. But this kid just plain rejected that chance. She felt an unspoken admiration for Scott Peterson.

“Are you feeling alright?” Sarah Peterson asked her son while checking his pulse.

“So far, yea.” Scott replied.

He had taken a bath and cleaned himself up in a room at the back of the lab when Nina said that his mother would be coming soon for a test. Nina had stayed with him for a while and explained to Scott about her Artificial Gear and its working and how it was attached to her. She even told him about the handsome lab technician who had performed the activation. Scott felt a little jealous but that was soon gone, when she said that he was nothing compared to him. They spent the rest of the time talking about random things until his mother came. At that point she gave him a small peck and gave him her address so that he can pick her up in the evening for the date.

He noticed that his mother was barely looking at him face to face. Either she was looking at his wrist or at her watch. It was as if she was avoiding him.

“Everything alright, mom?” Scott was concerned.

“Yea.” Sarah said slowly, “Yes.” She repeated.

“Then why are you acting so weird? Weren’t you the one who taught me to look at a person’s eyes when talking?”

“I watched you have sex with Nina.” Sarah blurted.

“WHAT!!!!?” Scott exclaimed.

“That mirror is a two-way mirror.” Sarah pointed to where it was, “I didn’t mean to. But I had to take your readings.”

Scott had no idea what he was feeling right now. It felt weird for the most part but the last couple of hours have been weird for him. He was brought back from the dead, an ancient technology was transplanted into him, a girl he barely knew had sex with him, and the weird dream… conversation? But for some reason he also felt an excitement in knowing someone was watching him while he had sex. And the fact that it was his mother only made it more or less

“Damn it. Now you have made this conversation awkward.” Scott blamed his mom.

“I just wanted to make sure that The Gear won’t overload and kill you.”

“I understand that but couldn’t you just ask someone else handle my readings?”

“I am sorry, honey.” His mother said hugging him, “I just wanted to do it myself. I can’t let someone else handle my son’s life.”

Scott sighed, “It is alright mom. But next time close your eyes or something.”

“I will.” Sarah broke off from the hug and chuckled. Scott noticed that her eyes were wet.

“Anyways, I need your car tonight” Scott requested as his mother wiped her eyes with the hem of her lab coat.

“May I ask why?” Sarah noted down something onto her pad, “Ok, your pulse, heartbeat and everything else seems to be fine.”

“That is a relief.” Scott said, “I am taking Nina on a date.”

“Ooooh.” His mother teased him, “Already on first name basis, I see.”

“Why not?”

“Well, she is 26 for one karabük escort and my next boss for another.”

“Waaaait! She is Nicholas Adam’s daughter!?” Scott was surprised.

“Yes honey.” Sarah chuckled and gave him a peck on his cheeks, “Ah you don’t have to worry, hon. She is a good girl. Where did you plan to take her by the way?”

“There is that new romantic movie playing in theaters. I was planning to take her there.” Scott rubbed his head thinking whether that was a stupid idea.

“But you never liked romantic movies.” His mother pointed out.

“I can change for her.” Scott said standing up from the bed.

“You can find a fresh pair of clothes in that locker. Wear it and come to the first floor. We have to run a few more tests on you.”

“Sure. Also you didn’t answer me. Can I take the car?”

“Sure, honey.” She replied.

Scott walked to the locker took a pair of white sneakers, a black pant and a green shit with the letters ‘Keep ’em Coming’. He looked back. His mom was ‘playing’ with her tablet. He removed his hospital gown and quickly put on the clothes he got from the locker. He walked back to where his mother was.

She looked at him proudly and ruffled his hair, “There that is better.”

They walked out of the lab.

“Mom, is it alright to ask why you hid the fact that you worked in a lab?” Scott asked.

“Well…to be fair your father knows it but I thought you and your sister were still not of proper age, you know. I mean I work in a lab where people need to have… sex… to stay alive.”

“But I thought there were only-“

“Yea yea. Only one successful test subject, you. But we also have something called an Artificial Gear. It was first proposed by my boss-“

“Yes I know that part.” Scott said.

“Nina talked about it?”

“Yea.”

They both walked the stairs to the first floor.

“Many people voluntarily come here to save them from life threatening situations. So far none of our tests have shown any results though.”

“Where do these people come from? Also what is this building’s name?”

“We call building, The Network.”

“Really?” Scott chuckled, “Does not seem like a suitable name.”

“Exactly. This is a government sanctioned building. Who do you think is sending us the subjects?”

“Were you responsible for any of the deaths?”

“This way.” Sarah said and took him through a hallway, “Not directly. But I just do the readings and stuffs. I don’t do any transplantations.”

“So why were you hiding this fact?”

“As I said you two are still kids in my eyes.”

“Really?” Scott was smiling evilly now, “Even after you saw your ‘little’ son have sex?”

“Oh my God!” She cried, “Stop talking about it.”

Scott chuckled and took his mom’s hand into his.

“How many tests are there? Is the rest of my life going to be filled with tests?”

“God no.” She said, “This is the final test. Then you can go back to normal.”

Scott was back in home. His mother had stayed behind at The Network. Scott was swapping through the channels not sure what he should be watching. He was sprawled on the sofa staring blankly at the television. He was not sure whether he was disturbed because of the new machine in his body or because he had a date with the most beautiful girl he has ever seen. He turned the television off and went upstairs to his room.

He looked at his cupboard trying to find a dress for the evening. His mother told him that she had no idea what happened to the clothes they bought from the new shopping mall.

He was browsing through the different clothes when someone rang the doorbell downstairs.

Scott ran down and looked through the keyhole. It was his sister.

He opened it. His sister pounced on him and hugged him tightly, “Long time no see little bro.”

Sarah Peterson gave birth to Emily Peterson when she was 16 years old. Emily had similar features as Sarah. Both had black pupils that really brought out their skin color. Both had the body of a supermodel with slender legs and hours glass figure. They both even had the same long blackish-blonde hair that went up to their hips. They both could easily pass up for sisters.

“What is wrong?” Emily asked Scott concerned, “You didn’t hug me back.”

Scott didn’t reply instead he welcomed her in and closed the door behind her.

“Take a seat.” Scott said, “I have got something to tell you.”

“You look so serious, little bro.” Emily joked.

Scott told her everything. Everything excluding the fact that his mother worked there. That was his mother’s secret. He had no right to blurt it out.

“Really?” Emily asked chuckling, “If you lost your virginity, just say it. It is nothing to be ashamed of. You don’t have to build a whole backstory behind it.”

“Just stay here.” Scott said and went to the kitchen and came back with a knife.

“Huh?” Emily was confused.

Scott took a deep breath not sure if the healing would work.

“Whatever.” He muttered and cut the inside of his palm.

“Oooooh my Gooooood!” Emily cried and quickly came towards him.

She opened his palm.

The older sister was surprised to see no cut mark on her little brother’s palm.

“What happened?” She asked confused and bewildered.

“I told you. I have healing capabilities now.” He was smiling which only angered her more for some reason.

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Experiments show that our senses only detect a tiny portion of what’s out there. Worse, our brains manage to process just a fraction of that.

It’s astonishing how much escapes our notice – and escapes it so completely that we don’t even realize we missed anything. Surely it wouldn’t take much to exploit those limitations…

(This story takes place in the “Newer Universe” series.)

Whatever the girl was thinking about, it purely wasn’t the groceries she was ringing up.

“Excuse me,” Mary said.

The clerk kept grabbing items and typing in the prices.

“Excuse me,” Mary said said again, a bit more loudly.

The girl looked almost startled, as if the register or a box of cookies had suddenly spoke up. “I’m sorry?” she asked.

“You rang up my corn twice.”

The girl stared for a moment, then ran her finger up the tape coming from the register. She then turned and looked at the clot of foodstuffs at the end of the belt – apparently to count cans. Sullenly, she pulled the microphone to her mouth and called for a manager. Once the sale was voided, the girl silently went back to processing the order. And then bagged it all silently, too.

No one offered to help Mary load the groceries into her car. Martha Brady and Patty-Jo Waller were chatting in front of the exit door; she had to wait quietly for them to notice her and move out of the way.

She piled it all in the trunk of the rusted Nova, and got it started up on the second try. Switching on the radio, she carefully pulled out of the lot.

As she made her way home, she noticed Annabelle on the sidewalk, and almost honked. The girl looked her way – for a moment Mary was sure she looked right in her eyes – but she moved on, and the car passed her. Oh, well, why should the girl even have the time for a middle-aged housewife, outside of choir practice?

Her path took her by the church where their choir sang. She took note of the sign out front: “THE LORD LOOKETH FROM HEAVEN; HE BEHOLDETH ALL THE SONS OF MEN.” – PSALM 33:13

Pastor Collins was still on about that “White Event”. Not three months ago everything had lit up for a few moments, bright as could be, everywhere on Earth. Many people took it as a sign the End Times had begun – Collins among them. Mary just held to Matthew 24:36, “But of that day and hour knoweth no man, no, not the angels of heaven, but my Father only.”

The radio people were talking about an earthquake, in some place called “San Salvador”. Or maybe “El Salvador”. It seemed like both, or something. Just for a moment, she wondered if the pastor might not have the right idea.

Her own worries took over as she turned onto their street, and searched their driveway with her eyes. Mary sighed with relief as she pulled into the garage. Hobart’s car wasn’t there. If only she could put away the groceries before he got home…

She compared prices, waited for deals, clipped coupons. He still always chewed her out about how much she spent on food. Yet there was plenty of money for beer, or bowling shoes, or paint for his car. If he didn’t see her putting it all away, she wouldn’t have to hear him go on about it. Or feel him take it out of her hide.

She started by lugging the milk into the kitchen. Even in early October, dew beaded like sweat on their sides. Cold never really hit Georgia until January or so. Maybe December.

As it turned out, she had plenty of time. He didn’t show at all, the whole time she was stowing things away, and she got started on dinner. Meatloaf was a safe choice. Hobart never complained about her meatloaf, which was the closest thing to praise that came from him anymore.

It was hard to remember ever loving him. She could recall bare facts – being excited for the wedding, going off on their honeymoon. But the feeling had drained away a long time ago. Even her memories were in black and white. All that was left were smoldering embers of fear and resentment and well-banked, carefully-hidden hate.

She had dinner ready by six. But there was no sign of Hobart. A quarter after, she had a sinking feeling, which had turned into a sick depression by half past. He’d gone for a beer with the boys, or some such thing, and hadn’t bothered to let her know. Anxiously she checked the answering machine again, but there was no message.

At seven she surrendered hope, and ate standing up, even as she rushed to get the plates and leftovers put away. There was no way around it, it would be a bad time when he got home. He’d scream about her wasting food, no matter that he hadn’t called her. No matter that he’d have screamed just as loud if he’d got home from the plant and dinner wasn’t on the table.

The most she could hope for was that he’d be too drunk to think about it until the morning. She couldn’t be lucky enough for him to get so drunk he’d kill himself on the road home.

It wasn’t much after eight when kastamonu escort she heard the car door slam outside. Earlier than she’d expected. Maybe even his “friends” had ditched him.

Mary stood in the kitchen, chopping vegetables for tomorrow’s casserole. The accustomed tension spread across her back as the key turned in the back door lock. He walked in and made an unconscious sniff when he caught sight of her.

“I missed you at dinner,” she said quietly, not looking up.

“I got dinner out. Me and Barry and Hitch went over to Lula.”

“Oh.” She knew what that meant. A bar there. They went because it got a younger crowd, even some college kids. She didn’t even care anymore about Hobart eying girls half his age. It was just that he’d come home to her, and she wouldn’t measure up. And he’d blame her.

“Is that meatloaf I smell?” It had started. She risked a quick glance at his face. His expression belonged on an angry grade schooler, maybe even a kindergartener. Not a canning plant worker pushing fifty. Not a tall man with thinning and graying hair, a broad beer belly, and rosacea-ruddy cheeks.

She sensed the fearful, pleading tone creeping into her voice, and hated herself for it. “I thought you were coming home after work. I thought you’d like…”

“I never said I was coming straight home! Christ, it’s Friday night! I don’t need your damn permission to go out with my friends!”

Right, it was her fault she’d assumed he’d come home for dinner like he did nine times out of ten, even on Fridays. “Of course not, I just thought…” She shrank in on herself, but she was facing him now. She’d need to see when he started hitting.

He bellowed. “You ‘thought’! You don’t think, you do what I say, woman!” He pulled back his hand. From long experience, she instantly judged how far. The smack would be about average, she saw, and on her cheek. One followup, maybe two. Then, most likely, he’d have worked it off. Some crack about her hair or her spending or some other nonsense, and then he’d go watch TV. She’d probably have to muster up some tears, prove he’d hurt her; actual sobs shouldn’t be needed, though. Just enough to make sure he didn’t decide to…

Finally she realized the blow hadn’t landed.

He just stood there, hand in the air, such an expression of… of…stupid befuddlement on his face that, despite the fear that was almost comfortable, despite all her instincts, she had to desperately struggle not to laugh.

“Mary?” he called out uncertainly. “Where’d you go, woman?” He sounded strange.

Her mouth fell open in pure confusion. What was he on about? She hadn’t moved an inch.

He wouldn’t look her in the eye. His head darted around, searching. “Where the hell…” he muttered. Then he leaned around to look behind her. Her heart froze, along with her body. The skin of her arms, the back of her neck, sprung out in goose-pimples. If he was angry enough to taunt her, tease her… this might be a memorable beating indeed.

But he just walked past her, over to the doorway into the living room, still hunting. “Mary Giselle Watson, you get your ass back in this kitchen right now!”

She’d hunched over, frightened. “I’m right here, Hobart,” she said, somewhat tentatively.

He turned around, and she flinched. But he walked past her again to the back door, and opened it to search the backyard. “Mary?!” he yelled. “How… where the hell are you at?!” She finally placed that odd undertone in his voice.

Fear. He was afraid.

She’d heard suppressed fear in his voice before. Talking about his job or his boss, or sucking up to police officers when pulled over for speeding. She’d just never heard it when he was giving her orders. It made a very strange, unnerving contrast. Especially because he tended to hit her more when he was afraid.

He waited a moment longer, then hollered, “You get your ass back in here right quick, or I’ll tan your hide! You’ll be black and blue, y’hear?!”

She spoke up again, against her better judgment. Whatever game he was playing, she just wanted it done. “Hobart, I’m right here.”

He didn’t respond to her. A moment later he slammed the door. He stormed over to the fridge, pulled out a beer, and marched into the living room. She heard the TV come on.

Mary just stood in the kitchen. Completely bereft of any explanation, of any notion what was going on.

It felt like a couple minutes passed. Eventually she went into the bathroom and stared in the mirror at her own reflection. There she was, the same face she saw every morning and night. She wasn’t see-through or anything.

It was a tired face. A timid face. Rounder than times gone by; short dirty-blonde hair framing it. She’d never liked her large nose, but once upon a time she’d thought her green eyes were her best feature. Back when they’d had some life kayseri escort in them. Before they stared at the floor in shame around other people.

Her figure had broadened, too. She looked so… plain, so average. An overweight, middle-aged housewife. Socially invisible, maybe. But not physically so.

She walked back out to the living room. Hobart sat on the couch, watching some baseball game, holding his bottle of beer.

“Hobart?” she said quietly. He didn’t stir. He just frowned at the screen.

On a wild impulse, she walked over and stood on the other side of the coffee table, between him and the TV. He scowled, and leaned to one side. She shifted to her left, to get in his way again. He leaned the other way, still frowning. His eyes never once focused on her.

Giddy, disbelieving, she backed up and parked her rear right up against the screen. It felt warm, and a little static crackled as the fabric of her skirt touched the glass.

Letting out a bark of frustration, he stood up and charged toward her. The glare on his face… she quailed inside. But her instincts were to freeze, and she did. He strode up… and banged on the side of the TV. “Piece a’ crap! What the fuck is wrong with you?!” he shouted. He craned his head, still trying to see around her. He grabbed the dial, clicked through to another channel. “Shit!” he yelled. He reached past her to fiddle with the antenna.

With another “Shit!” he gave up. Then he looked down at his beer. It was unopened. He must be rattled to forget that! she thought absently. He stalked away, toward the kitchen, muttering angrily to himself. She just stood there, and heard him rustle in a drawer, then the pop-fizz of the bottle being opened. As he walked back into the living room, she shifted away from the TV.

He stared at the screen. “Oh, you decided to work, eh? Ain’t that always the fucking way.” He sat back down in his usual place, where his hiney had worn a permanent dent in the cushions.

Mary was well-trained in reading Hobart’s mood. Like an Indian judging the weather from the small signs in the wind and sky. He was ill-at-ease, upset. And yes, definitely a little frightened.

She stepped closer, carefully. He gave no sign he noticed her approach. Before long she stood next to the couch, staring down at him. Angry now, bold beyond reason, she reached down and tipped the beer into his lap.

He howled and swore and stood up, wiping frantically at his pants. But he made no move to strike her. He actually walked around the coffee table to get to the bathroom, instead of barreling through where she stood.

Utterly at a loss, Mary stepped away. Hobart came back, rag dabbing the wet spot on his pants. He seemed to be hunting for signs of anything out of place. It was plumb foolish how his gaze just slid past her, unseeing.

No, it wasn’t that he couldn’t see her. He couldn’t… recognize that he saw her. It was like she was just a… a piece of furniture. Something ignored, inconsequential, unimportant. Something beneath notice.

Something you couldn’t notice?

—

Numb, she decided to go for a walk. She caught herself trying to come up with an excuse to give Hobart… but then, half-convinced the strange spell would be broken, she just walked out the front door without permission. But no shouts followed. She ambled along their street, trying to figure out what on Earth was happening.

She wondered if Hobart had been bewitched or something. It made no Earthly sense. She knew he wasn’t joking. That wasn’t his kind of humor at all. He didn’t… he wasn’t smart enough to think of a prank like that. Let alone keep it up. It was all just beyond her.

It had been a long time since she’d gone for a walk in the evening. Hobart didn’t enjoy walks, and when he was home she was expected to be around to fetch him beer or listen to him complain or absorb a smack or three. She’d almost forgotten what it was like, the cool breeze starting to blow, the dusk making everything look just a touch fuzzy, just slightly magical.

Turning the corner, she surveyed ahead down the way. The Weathers’ house caught her eye.

Insight struck her like a thunderbolt. Old Jody Weathers had suffered a stroke back in ’83. He’d never recovered, never been the same again. Some of his quirks would have been funny if they weren’t so sad. His left side barely moved, and his left eye drooped, but that wasn’t the worst part. The funny thing was, he never saw the left side of things.

His wife Sadie would put a plate of food in front of him, and he’d only eat what was on the right. It didn’t matter if it was liver on the right, and ice cream on the left, he’d ignore – plumb couldn’t see – the left side of the plate. If Sadie spun the plate, though, he’d see what he’d missed before. And no longer saw what he’d been eating just a moment ago. kıbrıs escort What had the doctor called that? Something ‘neglect’. ‘Hemi-something neglect’.

It was like Hobart had ‘Mary neglect’ now. Like he couldn’t even process that she was there.

A stroke! Hobart had had a stroke. A… weirdly specific stroke? That didn’t mess up how he moved, or talked? Or anything but seeing his wife?

She’d never heard of such a thing. Then again, until Old Jody had his stroke she’d never heard of ‘neglect’, either. Whatever else could it be?

She turned in and walked up to the Weathers’ porch. Maybe she could talk to Sadie for a spell. Get some idea what to do, who to call. She pushed the doorbell and waited, trying to figure out how to tell Sadie about it in a way that wouldn’t make her sound crazy.

The porch light flicked on, and Sadie pulled the door open. She peered out uncertainly. “Hello?” she called.

“Hi, Sadie. I’m sorry to trouble you, but…”

She broke off at the blank expression her neighbor wore. The woman leaned out the door and peered about the yard. Just like Hobart, Sadie cocked her head to see around Mary. “Hello?” she called out, again, a bit louder.

Mary, poleaxed, watched numbly as Sadie muttered, “Damn kids…” and closed the door. She heard sounds of Sadie walking away down the hall.

Slowly, feeling dizzy, she sat down on the porch. Had everyone suddenly come down with ‘Mary neglect’?

—

It had been a bizarre evening. She’d ended up walking downtown, mingling with the crowd. Nobody had reacted to her at all. She’d shouted, jumped, even danced down the sidewalk. The people near her had conversed a bit louder, not even seeming conscious that they were trying to talk over her.

Finally she’d grabbed a giant radio off a young man’s shoulder and dashed it to the ground. He’d gaped and his friends had had a good laugh at his clumsiness. Not a one of them looked her way.

After that she’d just put one foot in front of the other, numb. Her meanderings took her near the high school and she sat down on the bleachers by the football field.

There was no way to get a handle on this. The whole town was giving her the silent treatment. The whole world, for all she knew. Unable to imagine what she could do about it, she’d fallen to musing about more familiar problems.

She hadn’t liked high school at the time, but its luster had grown over the years. She’d been a bit of a wallflower then, too. But she’d had some friends, some social life. There had been a sense of possibility back then. She might have done any number of things. Gotten a job, traveled. If nothing else, she could have married someone besides Hobart. He’d been handsome once, and had a fast car, and lettered on the baseball team.

So many chances she’d missed. She’d been a good girl, and saved herself for marriage. For Hobart, who’d climb onto her and pump a few times and leave her with a mess. Surely there was better out there. Some women cheated on their husbands – they didn’t do it for a lover like Hobart.

A giggle carried on the breeze, interrupting the familiar, comforting funk she’d fallen into. A boy and a girl were strolling by the fence, holding hands.

Was that Annabelle? And Jimmy Kowalski, Patricia’s boy? Where were they going? Under the bleachers?

Even back in her day, it had been a spot for making out. She just couldn’t believe… Annabelle?! Maybe the girl didn’t know what she was getting into.

She sat there for a few minutes, shocked. Such a sweet girl, active in the church, good family. Surely it was more innocent than it looked… if only she dared check…

Visions welled up; Hobart, looking past her. Sadie turning away unseeing. Pedestrians ignoring her.

She crept down the steps and followed the couple into the dark space.

Annabelle looked anything but innocent. Her hair was down and she panted like a marathon runner even as she exchanged slurpy kisses with Jimmy. She was backed up against some supports. Her left leg was raised, foot resting on a shin-high crossbeam. The better to allow Jimmy to get his hand up her skirt.

Mary gasped loudly. Then, panicked, her hand shot up up to cover her mouth. But they didn’t even pause. Jimmy moved in close; his other arm wrapped around Annabelle’s back, pulling her tight.

The girl whimpered a little, back arching into his embrace. Her breath sped up even more. Jimmy kept going for a couple more minutes, seemingly determined. Then he shifted his hand down there, and seemed to be moving the tips of his fingers rapidly back and forth.

Annabelle’s high-pitched moans were muzzled only slightly by Jimmy’s tongue. Mary had faked a few orgasms, way back when Hobart still troubled to care, and she could see this wasn’t for show. At all.

The girl’s writhing settled down, and Jimmy drew his hand back. Annabelle seized him and kissed him passionately. She looked wild, free. Utterly unlike the reserved, demure young woman Mary knew from church.

It dawned on Mary then, finally, how fast she was breathing, how her heart thudded in her chest. Her underwear felt tight. She was actually getting wet! It had been years! Not since Hobart had thrown out her Harlequins and Silhouettes.

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This is Ch. 5 in an ongoing story

I’m posting a little faster (than Ch 4)! I’m so, so grateful to everyone who’s given feedback. Truly. Rest assured, no one wants this completed more than me. Ch. 6 is almost drafted and ready for some fantastically brilliant beta readers, Berry the glass simply exploded.

“It was a hex,” Rhea called out.

She heard Bethanny twist the knob of the door to the hallway. Rhea scowled; it was these sorts of lapses in judgment that kept her from initiating.

“Don’t open the door, something’s wrong!” Rhea yelled.

“What do you mean?” Bethanny called back.

Rhea scowled to herself in irritation. “I was hexed!” she yelled, “if it’s still active, your energy might reignite it.” She then noticed three massive shards of glass drive into the wall like daggers. They still quivered with the force that propelled them into the wall. Two shards were side by side the other several inches below. It was an intentional shape, like a narrow triangle that was inverted. The top shards seemed about eye level, the lower one would have punctured her solar plexus.

Rhea hopped over the glass gingerly. When she emerged from the bathroom she saw Bethanny standing in the threshold to the hallway. “Are you sure it’s a hex?” asked Bethanny. Rhea pointed toward the bathroom and said “It’s like the mirror tried to kill me.”

Which meant the caster managed to bypass innumerable layers of protection magick. And knew she was here

This was a hit.

“Wow,” said Bethanny.

“Yeah. Wow.” replied Rhea as she stalked over to her bag and retrieved a small satchel. She pulled out a small handful of black powder that smelled faintly of herbs and burning wood. She whispered into her cupped handful and dark gray smoke began to rise from the fine powder and filled the room with the smell of burning ash. She threw the powder across the shattered glass and some at the mirror frame for good measure. The powder began to dissolve in hissing, popping snaps. Then, with a loud crack, the 3 daggers of glass fell to the ground.

“Is that black salt?” asked Bethanny.

Rhea nodded. Most witches used some form of black salt to eliminate hostile energy, but necromancers salt was particularly effective. “Can I have some?” Bethanny asked. Rhea looked at her with a raised brow and said, “You need to initiate as a witch first. Then we’ll teach you how to use it.”

Bethanny’s curled her lip in response. She said “The smell is really strong. It’s gonna stink up the hallway and I’m gonna get shit for it.” She walked towards the bathroom. Rhea shook her head. Though Bethanny struggled with discipline, the woman damn well knew the rules.

“Why would someone hex you?” asked Bethanny, from the bathroom. She slid the window open. Some of the glass crunched under her slippers.

Rhea considered chastising her for standing on the glass but was too fatigued by worry to bother. Maybe consequences might finally get Bethanny to think– though the hex looked deactivated, whoever did this managed to overcome protection magick Rhea had thought was impenetrable. She began to gather her belongings and said “I think I should leave. You’ll need to sweep that glass with a ritual broom into a paper bag. Burn the bag in the firepit then scrub your whole body and wash the clothes you wore.”

“What do you mean?” asked Bethanny.

“Whoever did this is targeting me. If I stay here, you’re in danger,” answered Rhea

Bethanny pursed her lips, “But where will you go?” she asked.

“I’m not sure,” lied Rhea. The less she knew of Rhea’s whereabouts, the safer she would be. The safer they would all be. There was a cafe nearby and the crowded energy would shield her for a while. It would give her time to think.

“Do you think it was the vampire who did this?” asked Bethanny

“Probably not,” said Rhea. She didn’t know for certain what magick Lucy was capable of but knew she wasn’t capable of this.

“But wouldn’t she be the first suspect?” asked Bethanny. “She knows where the enclave is.”

“She doesn’t” answered Rhea. “You said not to bring her here.”

“Oh,” said Bethanny.

“Lucy wants to figure this out just as much as I do,” said Rhea. “Whatever killed the witch also poisoned a vampire. And if she wanted to take the body, she wouldn’t have needed all that spectacle.” Bethanny made a tight sound in her throat. Rhea looked up and saw Bethanny’s eyes, large and a bit bulging, now bright red with tears.

“I’m sorry,” said Rhea, “did you know her?”

Bethanny nodded. “Yeah, I knew her. Janice.”

Rhea realized she hadn’t thought to learn the dead witch’s name. Janice, who was still trapped between worlds. Rhea grabbed her bag and turned towards the door when a thought struck her.

“The flies,” she said urgently. She dropped her bag and turned towards rize escort the bathroom. “Bethanny,” she said, “when you clean the glass, make sure you get the dead flies.”

But when she got to the bathroom, the window sill was bare.

“There’s no flies in here,” said Bethanny.

Rhea tilted her head “I must be remembering wrong.”

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

The rain had resumed by the time Rhea had reached the coffee shop. Her mind still raced and she didn’t have the wherewithal to scan the menu so she ordered the house special written on a blackboard in thick chalk lines: horchata with 2 shots of espresso. She managed to find a table and sat to collect her thoughts.

She couldn’t retreat to the island; it was too dangerous if the caster found her again. She sighed and pressed her middle finger hard into her temple, abating the blooming tension headache somewhat. Fear and cold sweat now weakened her resolve to keep this from the others to keep them safe. She thought of the dead witch– Janice. And unknown souls that might join her if Rhea failed. She looked at her phone for a few long moments.

Are you up? texted Rhea

Her phone buzzed and a text followed:That’s a loaded phrase these days, darling.

Something’s happened. Can you talk?

Lucy (vampire) surfaced across her screen.

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

She knocked lightly on Lucy’s door and was answered by footsteps. “Rhea?” called out Lucy.

“Yeah, it’s me,” Rhea managed.

There was no natural light in the hallway. Lucy swung the door open. Rhea walked inside and tried to take a deep breath as she heard the lock slide into place; her lungs felt tight. Lucy placed a hand on each of Rhea’s shoulders and squeezed gently. “Is necromancer business always like this?” she asked. “I thought your lot were the boring ones.” Her voice was tender.

The tight muscles relaxed somewhat under Lucy’s hands and Rhea found her focus wholly eclipsed by the sensation. It was a moment of merciful oblivion beyond the place of devouring dread.

“Non-stop thrills,” she said, with as much brightness as she could muster and turned around to face the vampire. Saying nothing, Lucy pulled Rhea into her arms. Rhea broke. She tried to bring her hands to her eyes to block hot tears from absorbing into the soft silk of Lucy’s shirt.

“I’m sorry,” she gasped.

Lucy held her, still warm from yesterday’s feed, and said “It’s ok.” She ran her palm down Rhea’s back but Rhea pulled away.

“I don’t– I don’t think it is,” she said. She removed her jacket and draped it over her rolling suitcase. “We have nothing and someone was able to get to me. At an enclave.” A spike of fear blurred her vision and she allowed her eyes to rest on a massive painting to steady herself. It was mounted on the wall above Lucy’s bed.

Lucy picked up Rhea’s jacket and hung it on a wall hook. “We don’t havenothing,” she said. “I’ve been translating the book and I reached the vampire I got it from. And he told me more about the auction.”

Rhea looked back at Lucy who said, “He didn’t know much,– he really didn’t care about cultivating The Gift, you’ll recall. But the auction was highly secretive.”

Rhea listened but looked back to the mounted canvas. It was dominated by the curious image of a feminine body, a dark silhouette of harsh and efficient lines against the cream background. The figure squat, knees open like the wings of a butterfly and arms were high. The dark figure stared at it’s own shadow stretched before it, illuminated by a simple circle of a moon.

“A bit embarrassing, I’ll admit, that I wasn’t in the know,” Lucy continued. “Underground objects of magickal origin and all. And the price point! The human rival spent millions for that book.” Lucy’s face was washed in the gentle ambient light of the room.

“So we don’t know where the book came from?” asked Rhea.

“Not yet,” answered Lucy, “but I discovered the broker; a vampire named Afonso Braga.”

“Do you know him?” asked Rhea.

“Oh, yes,” said Lucy. “I know Braga. Anybody, human or otherwise, who deals in magickal goods eventually crosses paths with Braga. He’s old, far older than any California vampire. He’s controlled the market for generations now.” Lucy’s voice felt far away.

“Is he dangerous?” asked Rhea.

“Yes,” said Lucy. Her face seemed to grow stern.

“Worse than Kyle?” responded Rhea.

Lucy considered her words carefully, “Both are dangerous. Kyle, despite the bloody trail of bodies he leaves behind, is more bombastic than anything. Remember: he’s the one who organized his vampires to work with necromancers. He didn’t do all that out of love for witches. Technology has made humans very traceable. And Kyle, for all his faults, sakarya escort saw this coming. Should the wrong human turn up dead, it brings the wrong kind of attention these days. The serum eliminates the issue entirely and which allows him to focus on his preferred activities.”

“Debauchery?” Rhea asked.

“Debauchery plus the necessary assets to fund it,” said Lucy. “And his reputation. Debauchery demands allies, after all. Braga has different motives.”

Rhea moved to the couch and watched Lucy as she spoke.

The vampire laid across her bed. “Braga,” said Lucy, “likes power. And control.”

.

“How do you know him?” asked Rhea.

“I used to work for him, here and there,” said Lucy. “Because I study magick I could handle cursed objects better than the others. I’m not welcome company these days, not since I stopped working for him. “

Rhea was quiet for a moment, then asked, “Are you scared of him?”

Lucy sat upwards and rested on an elbow. “He’s strong. Sadistic, and creatively so. But when he feels crossed in business– cruelty unchained. He loves blood. Eating it. Splattering it on the wall. Pouring down over him as humans hung from the ceiling bleed out over the crazed carnality of his inner circle.”

Rhea shuddered. “And he’s the only one who can tell us where that book came from?”

Lucy laid on her back. “I think so,” she said with a heavy exhale.

“Is there a way to get ahold of him?” asked Rhea.

“Possibly,” answered the vampire as she pulled out her phone. She stared at it, motionless for a few moments, and said “I should also mention he’s very interested in your operation on the island.”

“What do you mean?”asked Rhea. Her jaw clenched.

“Those skin care products. Braga feels entitled, I guess, to a share of the profit. Him being both a vampire and powerful broker of bewitched goods and all.” She rolled on her side and looked at Rhea. “If, and I mean if, he will speak to me, he’ll start to wonder why. And it won’t take him long to figure out Kyle reached out to the necromancers. And then Braga will be curious.”

Anger surged within Rhea, but she didn’t doubt Lucy. But no matter how strong the vampire was, he wouldn’t be stronger than the coven. “I don’t think we have a choice,” replied Rhea.

Lucy nodded but didn’t look at her. “I’ll text Kyle, see if he knows what Braga is up to these days.” Her phone rang a few moments after she sent the text. “It’s Kyle,” she said, surprised. In one graceful movement Lucy was up and speaking. Rhea pulled out her phone and searched for updates on the stolen body but found no new information. She heard Lucy end the call.

“Interesting…” she said and sat beside Rhea. “Braga rarely leaves his home in Portugal these days. Yet, he’s making a sudden trip. To this very city in fact. He arrives the same day we’ll get back from the mountain.”

“You think he’s involved?” asked Rhea.

Lucy nodded. “The book he auctioned describes the magick that holds your Janice. That book, and other works by that same witch-priest, were auctioned off just before the vampire and his human girlfriend turned up dead.”

Rhea’s eyes opened wide in horror, “So, how many copies could be out there?”

“In good news,” explained Lucy, “everything he sold at that auction seems to be useless. My vampire client said Braga got a lot of wealthy, power-hungry buyers excited with stories about ancient magick hidden in tomes. But the book I have is a lot of errant notes and reflections. Certainly nothing substantial. And, after some prodding, it turns out there are multiple disgruntled buyers.”

Lucy watched Rhea carefully. “If Braga has the key to a mysterious magick, he’s keeping it to himself. For now. Kyle thinks he’ll agree to meet with you. Now he wouldn’t agree to that without a hidden motive. The bigger problem is,” the vampire continued, “I’m still not welcome.”

“So I’d have to go alone,” said Rhea.

“Let’s keep that as the last option,” said Lucy

“Why?” asked Rhea. She could feel irritation stirring within her.

“Because Braga isdifferent,” said Lucy. “The vampires you know are young– turned for 40, 50 years at best. Braga is from a different world.”

Rhea gave Lucy a hard look. “I want to meet with him, if that’s what it takes. And if he won’t tell what he knows, I’ll do what I did to your brother and force him to his knees.”

Lucy smiled, the delight reaching her eyes. “Please don’t do that,” she said. “While I enjoy your conviction, if you use any necromancer magick on him, you’ll have to kill him. He still believes I’ve transgressed against him. So we need to be cautious.”

“Well, he’s in for a surprise, I can tell you that right now.” said Rhea, who resisted squirming as Lucy looked at her with keen, heavy eyes. samsun escort Rhea’s blood ran hot just under the surface of her skin.

“I want to believe you.” said Lucy with a smile.

Rhea flared her brows at the vampire. “I’m the witch you’re all scared of, remember,” she said.

“I’m not scared of you,” Lucy grumbled.

“But that’s what you said!” responded Rhea, playful. “And I remember, at the full moon ritual– after I took Patrick down you were all ‘Don’t use it on me,” Rhea lowered her voice to mimic the vampire’s grave timbre. The vampire smiled. “You were trying to look tough in the fancy leather jacket,” added Rhea.

Lucy leaned into the back of the couch and rested her chin on her hand. “Your power don’t scare us, they make us angry,” said Lucy, eyes unwavering.

“Angry that you’re scared,” retorted Rhea.

Lucy laughed. “Well, if you do end up using that neat trick on Braga,” she warned, “be prepared to kill him.” Then she asked “Do you know how to kill a vampire?”

“Stab them through the heart, chop off the head,” answered Rhea.

“Have you ever tried it?” asked Lucy

“Have I ever tried to kill a vampire?” asked Rhea, incredulous. “No. I can’t say that I have.”

“So let’s practice,” said Lucy, as she popped to her feet. “Just in case.” She gestured for Rhea to follow. Rhea rose and took a few hesitant steps after her. When the vampire reached her desk, she pulled open a drawer to reveal 3 sheathed bowie knives. “I don’t want it to come to this,” said Lucy. “But Braga won’t hesitate to kill you.”

Lucy grabbed a bowie knife, still in its sheath, and handed it to Rhea. “Stand a few yards that way,” said Lucy and pointed towards a column in the middle of the room. Rhea stood there and fingered the leather strap that held the sheath in place. She released the button fastener and pulled the knife out. The blade was so sharp it made a quiet ringing sound in the open air. The wooden handle was intricately painted with roses and lilies.

“Glad it fascinates you, darling but let’s put it away. This is pretend, remember?” Lucy called.

Rhea slid the blade carefully back into its pouch. When she looked up, Lucy was towering over her, having closed the distance between them in one silent instant. Rhea gasped. Lucy smirked and paced bouncily back to her original position. She called over her shoulder “Braga won’t warn you he’s coming.” Rhea gripped the blade and raised it level with her head but Lucy was again before her and now gripped her wrist.

“You’ve seen too many slashers,” said Lucy, nonplussed. “See, now all your vitals are vulnerable.”

Rhea tried to pull back but Lucy’s grip was strong. There was scant distance between them as Lucy’s hand held Rhea’s wrist just above her head. Rhea heard herself breathing. Gently, Lucy drew Rhea’s wrist down in front of her chest. “I enjoy the flair of stabbing like in a Hitchcock movie,” said the vampire. She rotated the knife in Rhea’s hand, “but if you hold it this way, your strike will be more accurate.”

She guided Rhea’s wrist forward until the sheathed blade pressed into the middle-left of her chest. “You’ll have one chance to aim here and drive the knife forward as hard as you can,” said Lucy. Rhea tried to push but her arm wobbled. “Not like you’re trying to push an elevator button,” said Lucy, “give it everything you’ve got.”

With an inhale, Rhea pulled her arm back and drove the knife into Lucy’s chest with as much force as she could muster. It was like stabbing a cement pillar.

“Good,” said Lucy, “like that. Try again.” Rhea sent the blade forward and rammed it into the vampire’s chest with a thud.

“Very good,” said Lucy as she looked into Rhea’s eyes and rubbed her chest as if it were tender. Then, “Again.”

Rhea sent the blade forward but this time it didn’t connect. Lucy stood a few centimeters just out of range. “You have to be fast.” said Lucy. Rhea tried to lunge but the room around her seemed to stretch around her, as if Lucy’s magick could bend time distort her senses just to keep out of range.

“That was a trick,” said Lucy, as Rhea steadied herself. “You won’t be faster than a vampire. Let him come to you.”

Lucy shot forward and, on instinct, Rhea lifted the blade level with Lucy’s heart with a millimeter of distance from the point. “Good,” said Lucy, more heartily this time. She took a few steps back and lunged again. This time, she darted to the side at an impossible speed and grabbed Rhea’s arm from behind. “Don’t hesitate,” she whispered. Rhea tried to turn but Lucy grabbed Rhea’s other arm and held her. Rhea gasped as her back collided with the vampire’s chest.

“Too slow,” Lucy said. “And now both sides of your neck are exposed.” Rhea’s heart pounded.

Lucy released her arms and stepped back in front of her. “Let’s try again.”

The vampire shot forward. This time, Rhea pointed the knife in front of her. “Stop,” she intoned, the powers of the ages flowing through the entirety of her body, though the tip of the blade. All motion was sucked from the vampire in an instant, leaving her frozen in place.

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As I sat alongside her in the First Class cabin of Air India’s AI-111 flight cruising over the Atlantic on its way to New York this lovely Sunday afternoon, my thoughts go back down the memory lane. The kaleidoscope of some of the prized possessions in my memory bank, the secrets no one has ever known, which only she and I are privileged to have shared, unfolded before my eyes even as her bare arm and shoulder rested on my body.

My thoughts went back to the time when I was a kid, when my family used to live in a nice little house in a small hill town in northern India. It was a lovely little house that we lived in. The house was on a slope and the three rooms we had were at different levels, with substantial vacant undulating land all around it. I remember vividly the day when a new family moved in two houses next to ours. The family differentiated itself from scores of others in the neighbourhood because it had a little girl, almost my age. I had few friends and the first sight of this girl made me want to become friends with her.

In due course, we did become good friends. In fact, we soon grew to be each other’s best friends. She was a very sweet girl indeed, and I always enjoyed her company. We were too young to understand what love was but I always felt this magnetic attraction towards her. For as long as I can remember, I have enjoyed being with her, talking to her, joking with her, studying with her, playing with her…..

I was always very keen in studies. She was one year my junior at the same school and had herself no mean prowess in studies. We used to spend long hours, discussing various subjects. I was amazed that she could discuss Physics, chemistry, Biology and Mathematics with equal felicity. Our discussions used to be lively and intellectually stimulating. Like me, she was also always keen to understand the what, why and how of processes.

Arising out of an urge to excel in studies and life, I had often requested my parents to give me a separate room, where I could indulge in my passions undisturbed. Because the house was not too large, this had not been possible. In time, I succeeded in persuading my dad to build a little cottage on the sloping piece of land that was 10 feet below the lowest room in the house, with entrance through a wooden ladder from the rest of the house above. That the cottage would permit a stunning view of the Himalayan ranges and thousands of pine trees was an added bonus. As the workers finished the wooden ladder to the cottage, my joy knew no bounds. That soon became our second home – hers and mine, a place where no one could bother us and a place where we could pursue whatever fancied us unhindered. We were always so focussed on studies and were considered so young that the two of us spending long hours together in the cottage raised no eyebrows in either our otherwise traditional Indian families or in an equally traditional neighbourhood.

I remember her clear and vivid. Her long straight black hair that had a natural bounce and glimmer, the unique twinkle in her eyes and her radiant skin glowing in the moonlit nights made her a very magnetic persona. Her complexion was ivory white. Anywhere on her body I touched her, she was so soft, so tender. It was always evoked “Kuchh Kuchh Hota Hai” feelings (the famous Hindi movie – You cause indefinable flutters in my heart), whenever I touched her or she touched me, but I did not understand the meaning of it for several years. She was a wonderful friend, a great companion. To me, she was like an angel.

Time just flew. As the neighbourhood was sparsely populated with very few children in our age-group, she and me used to spend most of our time together. For many years now, she had shown a penchant for brushing my hair in a particular manner. Every time I came into our den after a bath, she would insist on redoing my hair. This particular day, as she was doing this, I looked into the mirror and something struck me like never before. I found that we looked gorgeous together, and formed such a lovely couple. Little had I known then that as the years flew by, I would one day fall in love with this girl to the extent of yearning and lusting for her.

Not very much later, I began to realize that she was not the same girl I knew before. This occurred in more ways than one. She was timid and shy now, sometimes not even looking directly at me in the eyes anymore when we talked to each other. I also noticed that our academic discussions and debates were more and more on biology, and there also, it was reproductive system of animals which seemed to interest us more. I noticed on several occasions that she would lapse into spells of thoughtful silence even as we discussed various aspects of reproductive biology. It seemed to me as if the mysteries of this science took her on flights of fancy way beyond the momentary academics. At least once, I caught her rubbing her thighs together, as if to experience some hitherto unknown sensations, even as we discussed copulation and zygote formation. I also noticed that during our long şişli escort bayan evening walks along the meandering pathways of the surrounding hills, she would often tug on to my arm nearer to her, as if falling back on me for support. She would also often cling to me for protection whenever even a harmless forest animal crossed our path.

I loved each bit the way she allocated to me this role of being her protector and guardian. This was also the time when I often found her complimenting me on my looks and personality. Such words almost always confused me, for, I could not fathom what she found attractive in my bland persona. I knew she was conscious of the way her own body was changing – and she wasn’t perhaps sure if she was beautiful. While I always kept telling her that she was an angel, a most beautiful creation of God, somewhere along the line, I found myself fancying to be the one to “demonstrate” to her one day how gorgeous she was, in all ways. Taking off from my angelic reference, I started calling her “Pari”, a fairy. I could tell that she liked it. This was a name that just I used, and she in turn gave me a new name, “Raj”, that only she used.

I had celebrated my 16th birthday six months back, and Pari had just turned 16 too. One day, it just hit me that Pari was growing up to be such a beautiful young lady. The day was beautiful. There was a bit of chill in the air, the aroma of the pines was wafting thick and true in the air. The sky was clear, and it was absolutely gorgeous. Noon had turned to evening. The sky was replete with orange and red hues and I thought it would be a great idea to call her over to talk and hang out in our little den. Academics were farthest from my mind today. I just wanted to watch the sunset with Pari, spend some quality time with her, something we rarely had time to do outside our academic oursuits. I sat there close to the door of my cottage. The wait was becoming a bit too much. I did not want Pari to see me peeping through the door skywards, for her to begin her descent on the wooden ladder. I therefore, placed a mirror strategically inclined against the wall so that I could see her without being noticed, as soon as she appeared on the horizon. In a short while, Pari came into the mirror-frame.

These last few days, every time I saw Pari, I was overtaken by an urge to lock her in a tight embrace, to kiss her and let my biological urge have its way. I often dreamed of merging into her under the stars. Even though I can articulate these thoughts in clear terms today, things were different then, for, I had never been close to a girl, and did not quite understand finer nuances of making love. And yet, I discovered, sexuality is the best teacher. As she began her descent towards our den, I saw in the mirror her beautifully formed legs under her skirt. My heart leapt. As she descended a few steps, my eyes caught her white panties, through which broad contours of her female sex were visible. Something happened to me down there, straightaway. Even though the angle was rather steep, I had a quick look at the rest of her body and found a few things that had somehow eluded my attention before. These were now so evident even through the loosely fitting dress that she was wearing. She was wearing a bright yellow long dress, coming just below her knees. She had such a perfect body. How had I failed to notice before? Ripe developing breasts, which accentuated the thinness of her waist, followed by considerably broader hips. She was shaped like an hour glass. Her legs were long, white and slender. My breathing became instantly heavier. How I wished I could just rip apart her coverings, hold her breasts in my palms and knead them, and slowly work up on her legs and feel her in her most personal place with my fingers, lips and tongue. But soon, I found myself rebuking myself for my insanity. “What are you thinking Raj? Pari is your best friend, you can’t think like that about her”. However, the effort at self-control was futile. It was too late. My whole being appeared to want to have my maiden initiation into a physical union with this female without delay. I acknowledged it, and it felt good…

Pari was coming down the ladder slowly, humming some tune. I could see her breasts, jumping and wiggling at each step she descended. I had never seen a young girl’s breasts till then but the very sight before my eyes today made me imagine what lay inside. It was headier than a teenage boy’s dream. I still had the dilemma that it wasn’t right to look, that I should never have done it, but something else just came over me as I continued to peer into the mirror as she came down, step-by-step. I saw her white panties more clearly now, and the contours of her vaginal assembly became much clearer as well, revealing also a shade of black on the periphery, her pubic hair and I felt this sudden rush of ecstasy. As if to confirm that was what I actually wanted, I found my little one had hardened and catapulted to enormous proportions. I wanted to grab Pari, rip open her dress, tear the bağcılar escort bayan bra off her and just hold those marvellous breasts! Although never in a sex act before, I instantly had a deep desire to rub her tits, lick them, and put them in my mouth and suck on them. And yet, I remonstrated with myself, for an instant, “Raj, get control over yourself”.

Pari came into our cottage and we sat there talking. It was such a lovely evening. That we did not have books in front of us today did not bother here one bit. I loved talking to her. The more we talked, the more I got a feeling of wetness at the orifice of my manhood. For the first time when Pari was with me, I had a full blown erection and hoped that she did not notice it. Embarrassed though I was, I loved each moment of it. The sensations I had never experienced before were carrying me to different world. Somehow, my hand moved and rested atop hers. She immediately held it softly in both her tender hands. After a while, she held my hand in one of hers and began to caress it and my arm with the fingers of her other hand. The tingling sensations made me see stars, sitting there. I brought my other hand and moved it softly on her cheeks and she melted into my touch. She squirmed and leaned heavily into me, permitting my fingers a touch of her luscious lips and eyelids. As she knelt, I could see her breasts clearly. They were ivory white and beautifully formed and almost surprised me with their size. The angle of her inclination showed her right nipple through her white bra. It was pink and I thought it stood half an inch atop her lovely breast. My breathing became heavier instantaneously. Noticing the increased draught of hot air on her neck from my breath, she turned slightly and looked up towards my face and found me peering at her breasts. She smiled coyly and moved her eyes away, but stayed in the same position.

All this while, we continued to talk. The more we talked, the more I felt the urge just to lean over and make love to her. The way she sat next besides me, I just wanted to run my hands up inside the blouse portion of her dress and between her legs and feel her soft luscious girlhood. Oh how I longed for it so much! My cock was rock solid now, and all efforts at self-control and cooling off were failing me now.

This could obviously not go on indefinitely. I noticed that she had being going along with me thus far and I was sure that her thoughts could not have been very different from mine. Only, someone had to make the first move. I leaned over. I had no plans to do so but impulsively, I kissed her. I shuddered having done so, for, I knew not how Pari would respond. Surprisingly she kissed back. I felt her tongue in my mouth. She smelled and tasted so fresh and sweet. This was the first time I was kissing a girl, and I wonder today how we did it so perfectly. I was sucking and licking her tongue with my own. Our tongues were intertwined and we were probing each other in our mouths. She was licking my tongue furiously with hers, and I was giving it right back. I loved how the animal within me was being released.

After a few minutes of heavenly kissing, I found my hand upon her breasts. She did not resist in the least. Encouraged, I approached her treasures from underneath her dress and her bra. To feel a breast in my hands for the first time in my life was such an erotic sensation. I just massaged those lovely treasures of Pari that I had wanted to feel for many days now. I had begun by nimbly massaging her nipples and the areola region surrounding them. The way she gratefully offered the treasures to me without inhibitions or resistance, I could tell her nipples had been just aching for the touch of my manly hands on them. I momentarily withdrew my hand from underneath her blouse and pushed the blouse up all the way, revealing her beautiful breasts in all their glory. She moaned, “Oh Raj, we shouldn’t do this, this is wrong, stop Raj.” Normally, I would have stopped dead in my tracks at her command, as I was loathe at going against her wishes. But today, I ignored what she said and I continued, mainly because her remonstrative words were accompanied by a deft movement of her torso to push her breasts further into my grateful open palms. Now I was twisting and playing with her nipples. They had become rock hard. Her skin was so soft that my fingers almost slipped over it; it felt so right and so good.

The going was so nice. I knew that I must take it forward. I flicked my tongue softly across her nipple. Her nipple instantly got harder and she moaned in anticipation. The wetness from my tongue caused her nipple to ache for more. Her nipple stood out now, like a little tower on a hill; I felt my cock harden even more as she moaned and I knew she wanted me so badly! Then as one hand of mine was still rubbing her tits, I moved the other hand further down. I was across her stomach, rubbing it gently working my way down to her haloed triangle, where her golden orifice lay, probably throbbing for my cock by now. I escort bayan zeytinburnu moved down lower and lower until I felt her panty lines. She wore white cotton panties, and that was such a turn on for me. I imagined lustfully that underneath those panties was a sweet little virgin pussy just waiting to be made love to, both in the most erotic and raw manner and for long. I made my way down to her thighs and rubbed and gently teased her inner thigh, the area tantalisingly close to the pussy. By her response, I knew she wanted me just to rub her pussy and to finger her in an unabashed manner. And yet, I wanted our first encounter of the intimate type to be memorable and wanted to go slow, step by step, inch by inch. I pulled her dress well above her breasts and had a panoramic view of her most beautiful and almost nude body. I saw a little damp patch through her white panties. My manhood was taller than the Eiffel Tower now. I kneeled in front of her while still massaging her luscious breasts with my hands. I lowered my head towards her knees, and began kissing on her knees and slowly worked my way up to her inner thigh. Her thigh was so white, so hairless; it was so sexy! I licked and kissed softly on her thighs and her hips began to move in sync with my tongue. She kicked gently and was gyrating her well formed hips. “Oh Raj, please do not do that down there. You know we’re good friends, we can’t do this, Raj. Please stop”, she moaned. I ignored her even as the gyrations of her pelvis became more intense with each moment. I took no notice of what she said, as I knew that was her mind speaking but her body was begging to be fucked here and now!

Her white panties became more wet and soggy. Contours of her beautiful womanhood were clearly visible now. At that moment, I placed my right forefinger gently over her panties. I could feel her soft moist lips underneath. I had such a strong urge to just rip the panties apart and dip my finger deep into her ravishing pussy lips and make her cum. That was what I wanted, but this girl meant so much to me. I knew it was her first time too. How could I be crude and hasty to someone so special and so mine? I must prepare her for each step of this marvellous process of discovering our sexuality. I kept on arguing with myself that this was our first time and the first time occurs just once in the whole lifetime. Pretty soon, my whole hand made it onto her pussy; and it felt like a little mound encapsulating the whole Universe there, between her legs. All I felt was her dripping wetness, ever increasing. My hand just rested there for what appeared to be an eternity. I was feeling her dampness through her panties. As the minutes passed by, I felt more wetness seep through her white cotton panties. Her outer lips were so soft and majestic. I felt as if God had sent me on this planet for her alone. And I promised myself that I would pleasure this angel to the fullest.

Her hips were gyrating furiously, and she pressed her pelvic region against my hand. Grinding her hips in a circular motion now, she was rubbing her wet slit against my hand even harder and faster. She obviously loved all the attention I was giving her, arousing her hitherto unexplored and unseen sexuality. She startled me as she jumped from her perch and headed to the little toilet attached to our lair. I was further intrigued that she did not close the door behind her fully and latch it, as she always did before. Two minutes, three, five, ten… When she did not emerge from the toilet after so long, I was a bit alarmed. I gingerly walked up to the toilet and was astonished to hear some strange noises. It was a mixture of soft sobbing and some other sounds I had never heard before – I now know these were sounds of ecstasy. That Pari was in some turmoil was too much for me and jettisoning the normal propriety required when one knows the toilet has a lady inside, I just entered the toilet. There she was, on the toilet seat, her left hand inside her panties, and she groaning in a strange way. She was surprised seeing me before her. I stood still, next to her, trying to absorb the meaning of all that was happening before my eyes. It was her turn to take me by surprise now. She placed her right hand gingerly on my thigh. Before I could fully absorb the sensations from her intimate touch at such a sensitive part of my body, I felt her hand move up, underneath the shorts and the brief I was wearing. And there she was, feeling my more than erect manhood and taking it in one of her hands. This was the first time my member had been touched like this by a woman. That it was Pari made it doubly rewarding. She fiddled with it softly, arousing me even further; she gently stroked my cock up and down, up and down as if playing in an orchestra. She rubbed the head of my penis with her finger tips and she got her fingers wet from my pre-cum. As if to fully reciprocate her sentiments, I began to rub on her womanhood from outside her panty and her moaning became louder. She soon started to stroke my lubricated cock again. I was literally on cloud-nine. It was hard to believe that all this was actually happening to me – that I had just kneaded her lovely breasts and felt her pussy, al beit from outside her panties, and she had my erect and wet manhood in the grip of her tender soft hand. I urged her to continue and told her that I loved it. I cajoled her to jerk me off.

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