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Andromeda

By: Katherine English 2



Chapter 1: Elise and Rostand

With mounting dread I ascend the stairs to Rostand’s studio. A chill wind rises, swirling about my bare thighs, seeking to conquer the places my lover cannot. What will it be today? What will he demand of me? It will be the same, I fear. It always is.

How have I come to this place of dismay I wonder, not for the first time. The worn carpet hums a silent condemnation beneath my feet. I want to turn and run, to escape my own weakness while I still can. But, once more it’s too late.

The brass knob turns easily in my palm, an accessory to my act of shame. What ruse will preface our encounter this day? A portrait? A landscape to frame my downfall? Does it matter? It’s only foreplay.

Rostand is, as always, sitting impatiently by the hearth, palate in hand as though to emphasize how late I am, for in truth the clock has eluded me this afternoon. My hesitancy has cost me, and now I am destined to pay the price.

“Disrobe,” he demands curtly, as though I were too foolish to remember the ritual. “And lay upon the bed.”

I move toward the dusty Chinese panel, behind which I hope to secure some fragment of modesty, but as always he denies me even this illusion of decency.

“No, here,” he directs, composing the moment like a scarlet masterpiece. “…by my feet. Begin with your blouse.”

Tentatively, my fingers fumble with the tortoise shell fasteners that guard my full breasts and taut nipples. Already I can feel the ache within, the unfulfilled hunger that calls me ever into this room, into this place where all control is lost.

A muffled plop, and my threadbare finery drops to my feet. Rostand pauses, waiting for me to continue, then nudges me with his foot as if to say “giddyup”.

I know the routine well, and my heart sinks as I realize once again that nothing has changed, that nothing ever will.

Now the full skirt that had failed to hold back the chill breeze joins its counterpart on the dusty carpet.

“Rostand, perhaps today…” I begin, but his look quickly silences me. I am not here to speak. And so I continue.

My undergarments fall away, and as my pale flesh becomes exposed to his gaze I once more feel his eyes ravaging me. What does he see when he examines me thusly? A woman? A lover? A soulless receptacle for his lust?

Does he look at his wife in this manner? No matter. It is not a place I wish to go. Not today. Not ever.

Finally, I am disrobed, my thighs pressed closely together as if to defend my last and most vulnerable stronghold. He likes this. It makes my conquest all the sweeter.

I cross now to the bed, the rumpled and stained canvas of uncounted dalliances, and settle my pink and trembling body atop the vile sheeting. He will be cruel today. His eyes have told me as much. I am but an insignificant sketch, something to be used, then discarded as life and true passion find vibrancy before him through more worthy venues.

Silently he asses my still form, positioning me in his mind, attempting to find the pose which will destroy my composure the most this day.

“Lay back,” He orders. “And spread your legs.”

Stifling my shame, I hasten to comply, his hand fisting around his long wooden brush handle like a weapon. Will he use the chair today, I wonder, cringing, or will he ensconce himself behind his easel until his muse prompts him to act?

“To the edge,” he directs, his voice deepening as the scene unfolds. “And open yourself with your fingers.”

A flush reddens my cheeks, warring with the curling auburn of my tresses in discordant disharmony. But I comply. I always comply.

Now I hear the rumble of his leather chair as he drags it across the floor, placing it like some dead animal between my feet. Then shifting his full body, he takes his place, a spectator, a voyeur at present.

I am wet, he notes crudely. My undoing flows from my exposed modesty in traitorous defiance. But, apparently it does little to slake his displeasure with my tardiness, and taking his brush in hand he immerses it deeply within my molten, womanly well, then proceeds to paint the area I have been ordered to display.

I shudder, my mind screaming its need into the silence of the room. Let him care, it pleads. Just once, let this be more than a portrait in debauchery. Let me be the muse that lights his soul.

But it is not to be.

Satisfied at last with my humiliation, I hear him settle heavily into his seat, his eyes assessing his composition.

“Stroke yourself.” He demands, taking sketchpad in hand. “Don’t stop until I allow it.”

My eyes moisten. I am not to fill the role of muse. Not this day, not any day. I am the vile liquid in which he cleanses his brush, nothing more. I am a receptacle.

Slowly I begin to stroke the pink, dewy flesh of my inner petals, caressing my turgid nub for his amusement. Will he allow me to complete the act this time, I hope beyond reason, beyond experience. Will I be allowed at least that dim, surrogate satisfaction?

A snake curls within my womb, Eve’s downfall and mine, the curse of she who has devoured The Apple far too many times. I squirm uneasily before my lover, holding back the inevitable until he allows my passage.

But I find it not forthcoming.

Instead, he toys with his own release, stroking his growing member as though my fingers were his own, the inevitability of my destruction within his grasp.

I tremble once more, my deliverance but a brush stroke away, but he stays my hand in perverse delight. Then, spreading my thighs he impales me, thrusting deep into my yearning maw with dark disregard.

A receptacle…nothing more.

Grunting, he plunders, taking what he will, and leaving me empty of all but the heated flesh he so vigorously wields. Another philistine lunge, his thick weapon swelling as it prepares to discharge its unaccompanied volley.

I close my eyes, feeling the heat rising within me once more, a desperate response to my hunger. I near the edge…so close…so close…

And then he withdraws, taking with him even the meager warmth upon which I had hung my hopes, and crushes his slick member between my breasts.

He will not spread his seed within me, not take a chance that it might take root and flourish in the fertile fields I have allowed him to plow. This act will not align either of us with eternity. It is only a barren moment in passing, and I am nothing but a spectator.

Urgently he ruts, the friction building as his time nears. His visage becomes tortured in its extreme, his teeth holding back the bestial growls that accompany his unnatural preferences. 

Finally, with a groan, he empties himself within my wombless valley, his slick triumph trickling into the furrows of my throat, splattering onto my unkissed lips.

Once more I hear him settle into his chair, heavier now in spite of his recent offloading. Then, wiping his softening member with a stained paint rag, he raises his gaze to my teary visage.

“Clean yourself up, woman. Then leave me. I have things of importance to complete today.”

I swallow my pride, replacing it with barren acceptance. I have been dismissed once more. “Important” things are in the offing this day. A used receptacle has no place here.

And so I gather my clothing, secreting myself at last behind the Chinese screen as Rostand gazes into the dusty street below. Will he watch me as I make my way into the noonday sun I wonder? But I know the answer even before the question is properly entertained.

He won’t. I’ve been dismissed, and I tell myself it’s for the last time.

Are lies still lies when they are told only in the empty void of one’s own heart?

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Chapter 2: Elise and Etienne

Once more I sit at a table for two, alone at the Café du Monde as I sip the rich, dark brew. Why do I align myself with such men, I wonder? Why do I allow their abuse, their cavalier disregard, only to be tossed aside when their purpose is finished and my soul lies quivering on their canvasses?

I will not return to Rostand’s studio…I will not, I promise myself. I am not his muse, I am his whore, and nothing noble can possibly come from our union.

And so I gaze at the vibrant portrait before me, envious of the canvas nature has offered in lieu of the darkness I bury inside. And then I see him.

He sits in seclusion within the shadowed confines of the café, but his eyes glow with an intensity not even the gloom of this sidewalk purveyor of rich, dark brew can hide…and watches.

I can feel his eyes penetrating my solitude. Who is he? What does he want?

Uneasily I finish my coffee, then gather my reticule to depart from his influence, but immediately he rises to stop me.

“Wait,” he says, more a command than a request. “I know you. Your name is Elise, no? We met at a soirée in Rostand’s studio, many months ago. He said you were modeling for him. Have you completed your commission? Are you available?”

Rapidly I try to place him, but his face remains only a vague impression. Rostand had paraded me before many men during my tenure with him. This “artist” must be one of them. Does he also require the services of a whore?

“I’m sorry, Monsieur, but you have mistaken me for someone else. I know of no Rostand. Please, let me pass.

But still he stands, blocking the bright freedom I so desire from my sight, from my mind until I finally concede defeat and settle myself once more onto the small, striped café chair from which I had risen.

He’s quiet now. He’s gotten what he wants and can afford to gloat. Finally he reaches his finely chiseled fingers across the tiny table and lifts my chin for his inspection.

“You have good bones, Mademoiselle. I can see why Rostand wanted you. But your eyes, surely a pedestrian dauber like he must have missed the mystique they hold. I ask you again…are you available?”

I should say no. I should remove myself immediately and return to my father’s chateau in Nice, but I know I will not.

“I-I have finished with Rostand,” I stutter, his piercing black eyes finding my weakness. His fingers smell of linseed and turpentine, and once more I am undone. “I am…available,” I sigh in defeat. “What is it you wish of me?”

He settles himself back into his chair, as if assessing the degree to which he wishes to enlighten me, then blurts “Are you familiar with the tale of Perseus and Andromeda,” he asks, his voice already certain of my ignorance. “Do you know the ancient myth?”

Silently I nod, unsure of my footing with this man.

“Good!” he smiles in pleasant surprise, “Then I won’t have to waste your time with the telling of tales. It is that image, the hopelessness of Andromeda, chained to the rock that I wish to capture. It is a commission from a wealthy client, and may perhaps establish us both in our respective positions. You will be paid handsomely. Are you willing?”

Once more I am reluctant, and I see the impatience flash through his eyes. Andromeda, a classic, perhaps a bit of immortality in the making. This man has much to offer, this…

“May I ask your name, Monsieur?” I ask quietly.

He pauses, as if wishing to give nothing away, but then blurts out “Etienne de Lyon, Elise. Have we struck a bargain?”

Now it’s my turn at reticence. Finally I nod, my fate sealed once more with the diminutive dip of my brow.

“Bon,” he murmurs, as though he knew I was his for the asking. Scribble your address on this napkin, and I will collect you in my carriage at dawn. You must pack for a long journey, I’m afraid, for we will be residing in a cottage along the coast until the sketching is completed.”

“We will leave Paris?” I exclaim in shock. “I am to follow you to places unknown, just like that?”

Suddenly his massive size and sullen demeanor speak for themselves. Surely I would be foolish to place myself in his hands! A cottage on the coast! Would I ever be seen again?

“You hesitate, Elise. Have you second thoughts? Are you afraid of me?”

Again I nod. “A woman must be careful, Monsieur. Not everyone may be trusted.”

He takes my hand then, firmly and without equivocation. “No dire fate will befall you, Elise. You will be returned to Paris after the completion of the assignment as you left it, perhaps tarnished a bit, but alive and well.”

“Tarnished? Did all artists find their models so convenient? Could I allow this man such intimate access? Once more I took in his dark features and smoldering eyes. He had an intensity that attracted me, a sensual tension that drew me in. Could I follow him to my fate?

I could…and would.

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Chapter 3: Elise, the Journey

It is a tale of love and valor. 

The Greek myth of Perseus and Andromeda has long been a favorite of mine, tickling my naïve heart in ways I dare not share.

Once more the story unfolds in my mind as the carriage wheels cover the long bumpy track toward the cottage. She, Andromeda, chained to a rock, awaiting her devastation by the sea serpent in appeasement to the gods for her mother’s excessive vanity. Then Perseus appears, is immediately smitten, and rescues her from her fate.

Yes, a love story, one that has survived the test of time, and I have been chosen to model Andromeda on canvas for this strange and mysterious man. What have I done?

I glance once more toward the opposite seat, upon which my silent immortalizer rests. How long has it been since he approached me in the cafe with this proposition in mind?

A painting he had said, one already commissioned for a wealthy client. I, in his vision, was to form the armature upon which he structured his chained maiden, Andromeda.

At first I had been flattered that such an artist would consider me, insignificant Elise, for so noteworthy a piece. I accepted with an eagerness I feared I had lost long before. But then, as the details of my employment began to unfold, an unaccustomed discomfort began to set in.

I was to accompany Armand to a place far from the city, to a barren stretch of seacoast populated only by the cresting waves and the remnants of civilizations past.

There, I was to pose unclad, shackled as it were to both Andromeda’s “rock”, and my commitment to complete the project. I would be far from my accustomed byways, totally at the mercy of this dark and brooding stranger. Any recourse I might have had in the city, should the sitting go awry, would have vanished. I would be on my own.

As the time passed, I found myself becoming more and more overwrought, until finally the hour arrived for our departure.

Now, here I sit, listening to the rhythmic sound of the wheels as they carry me far from the relative security I have previously come to rely upon. Etienne, for he shuns his surname, sits brooding beside me, his eyes shuttered with vague detachment. He has spoken not a word since the cobbled streets of the city faded behind us. I am alone.

The sun crosses the sky in an easy arc, and still we travel onward. The silence by now is oppressive, and my trepidation has risen to outlandish proportions. The track beneath our wheels has dwindled as we creep farther afield, until now it resembles little more that a goat path along the rocky highlands that overlook the stormy sea below.

No one would find me here, I fear. No brave constable or noble Perseus would succor me should my lack of judgment prove to be my undoing. I have made my bed…

Once more I glance uneasily at Etienne. He appears to be a grim man, gaunt and dark in demeanor. His size and brooding nature appear formidable, and yet there is something about him that stirs me. In him I see both the unwieldy burden of the artist, and the closed preoccupation of a man who has cloistered himself from the world of light and social discourse far too long. His height and muscled girth are ominous, and I fear that I would be no match should this folly prove ill-advised.

I begin to wonder once more how long this journey will take us, for it has already surpassed my expectations. Long shadows trail their fingers over the rocky terrain as the sun lowers itself in the west. Finally, when I can stand it no longer, we crest one last, treeless hill and there it awaits.

The cottage lies on the seaward slope of a deep and restless bay. It appears to be a traditional affair, born of another time and constructed of native stone and ancient mortar. Already the setting sun has bathed it in crimson, the color of blood, and my fears rise anew. What will happen to me in this place, I wonder. What fate awaits this wayward model in such a place of barren seclusion?

Silently I close my eyes, and we begin our decent into isolation. Heaven help me, I whisper inwardly…heaven help me.

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Chapter 4: Etienne: Intimate Encounter

The road has been long and tiring. Too long have we sat in silence, assessing each other, wondering what the journey will bring.

This woman is rare, no mere bauble to throw asunder after a momentary tryst. And yet, many have done so. I wonder if I will be yet another, or will I find myself unable to discard her when we have come to an end? She draws me to her…she captures me…my Andromeda.

At last the cottage appears, tucked along the cliff as though to dominate the sea below by virtue of its solidity, and unwavering presence. 

Through the long years it has housed fishermen and their families, peasant people who took their living from the bounties about them, knotting their intricate nets from heavy hooks set into the pillars of their humble abode, living, lusting and birthing in rustic simplicity for generations untold.

As I feel her trepidation the need to console speaks within me, and so reaching for her frail hand I enfold it in my own. So small, so vulnerable, it causes the male in me to rise to the fore. But for what purpose, to protect or to conquer?

Soon we find ourselves before the cottage, its roughhewn door and thatched roof welcoming us to rest within. Brusquely I push it open with my foot and begin to unload our meager belongings.

She enters, her eyes assessing the dimly lit room as though it had been waiting all these long years for her arrival. Perhaps it has.

It is a solitary place, a single room built of fieldstone with a tiny water closet attached, obviously added many years after the structure itself was build, a small concession to the passing of years. It has a wide bed resting in one corner, a chifforobe in another, a small table with two chairs, and a large, functional fireplace that dominates one full wall. But it is the center beam that draws her attention.

Supporting the burden of the roof above, it is strong and sturdy, hand-cut, and bears the heavy hook that so bespeaks cottages of this type. It is here that Andromeda will be shackled, here that this woman will channel the essence of she who waits for life upon my canvas.

She touches it as if she knows its power, as if it speaks to her through the timelessness of this place, and perhaps it does. I have told her that this is to be her resting place, her bed if you will. The purpose, I have explained, is to allow her to touch the Andromeda she buries within her, to feel the hopelessness, the helplessness that her trial would have evoked.

She putters now, crossing the room in endless cycles as she prepares the space for habitation. She has a domestic side! I hadn’t thought it, but suddenly she feels that a nest is necessary for her tenure.

She stops now and looks questioningly at the hearth, the place where countless pots and loaves have been prepared, and a furrow creases her brow,

“You won’t be cooking, if that’s what’s in your mind.” I say, reading her thoughts. “I have arranged for a local woman to provide provisions each day. The fireplace will suffice for heat and light, but I have not brought you here to serve as my domestic.”


Andromeda 02



Warmer than I remembered, the brilliant sun reflected off a handful of tall crystal spires creating prisms of light on the carpet of virgin forests below. The small glass bubble I was surrounded with floated lazily on the thermals as several Sea Terns circled blissfully overhead. As I turned to face the sun, a calm silvery sea stretched endlessly to the horizon, dotted with several small volcanic islands covered with lush tropical foliage. A gentle warm sensation was stirring my loins, and as I looked down, the placid scene around me faded into the early light of dawn.

Somehow during the night, I had moved, or been moved to the bed, and the head buried between my thighs was somewhat inexperienced but determined as her tongue slowly circled my corona and traced fine lines down the length of my organ. Her silky hair covered my torso with a sensual blanket and her delicate fingers gently explored the creases and contours of my scrotum. Just as her moist lips closed on my shaft, I starting moving underneath her, gradually inverting my position until I was staring at the peach fuzz surrounding her delicious sex. My tongue immediately assumed its own agenda on a quest for the unique secrets tucked securely within those swollen lips above me.

Ann gasped at first contact and wriggled her hips with eager anticipation as her mouth descended even further down my rigid shaft. Her succulent lips formed an airtight seal, and her tongue switched gears, rapidly circling my corona as the suction gradually increased. Once my tongue brushed her clit, it was a foregone conclusion her tight opening was a mere snail's sneeze above. On first contact with the tight opening, she groaned and bit down on my enclosed member, releasing a warm stream of her essence into my waiting mouth as her hips collapsed. I yelped into her blond suffocating bush, savoring several more squirts of her essence as her body trembled violently. She tasted sweet, not musky as I was accustomed too; amazingly similar to the nectar of a peach with a hint of cinnamon.

Almost instantly aware of my potential penectomy plight, she lifted her still trembling hips and released my maimed appendage. After a quick gulp of air, I unleashed my tongue to procure yet another taste of her addicting essence. My tongue swiped her clit lightly before it found her vaginal opening and tried to burrow into the forbidden depths. I felt her body shudder, and she shrieked with another explosive orgasm. The delightful ejaculate flooded both my mouth and senses with a delightful fragrance; sweet and succulent. Her body continued to quiver uncontrollably as she rolled off of me into a fetal position. If she had been an earth girl; she would be crawling back to momma by now.

Content, yet unfulfilled, I staggered to the dim light above the range and surveyed the damage. Although the skin around the base of my cock was broken in several places, it wouldn't render me sterile and I breathed a sigh of relief. Lost somewhere beyond the realm of senses, she lay in exhausted repose, occasionally trembling slightly with orgasmic overload. I gently covered her and donned my clothes. Heating some water for some instant coffee, I pondered the circumstances that brought us to today's realities. She stirred my deepest emotions with childlike enthusiasm while demonstrating an intellect far more profound than my own. If she was able to unlock my deepest repressed emotions remained undetermined; time would ultimately reveal the strength of our young bond. I poured the steaming water over a scoop of coffee grounds and silently emerged from the trailer, rearranging my package to minimize the irritation.

The cows were just emerging from the woods and eagerly dug into the hay I spread out for them. The chickens quickly gathered as I dug my hands in their feed bag. Birds had begun their morning song, and in the far distance the faint sounds of the morning commute could be heard. The sound of footfalls startled me as I leaned on the fence to watch the critters feed. I turned to see the aging neighbor limping towards me with the assistance of a cane.

"Howdy, I'm your neighbor Matt," he said as he extended his hand expectantly.

"Howdy, I'm Daniel; Harvey's nephew. Beauty day isn't it?" I savored his firm handshake.

"Yup. Going to miss the likes of them . . . Me and the misses just bought a condo in Lauderdale and got this spread up for sale."

"How much you asking," I queried while trying to hide my disinterest. 

"I reckon about Five K an acre; we got twenty acres, and it will pay for the condo and the move with a few bucks to spare for the casino."

"I'll ask around," I offered, thinking his price was reasonable with the creek that ran all year through. "I might be tempted if I had a job."

"Yup, times are tough; don't reckon they be changing anytime soon. By the way, where is the old man?"

"He's in the hospital with some kind of heart issue. I'm going to call him later on to see how he's doing."

"Old Harvey's a tough old coot, he's probably telling them nurses how to get laid." Matt let out a snicker and changed his position. "Hope to see him soon. Is that your woman?"

Ann was standing a few paces behind me with her head bowed slightly in a blouse that barely reached her thighs and untied tennis shoes. "I'm Ann, Daniels mate."

"Howdy, I'm Matt; where did you find such a pretty filly?"

"Actually, she found me." 

"Damn fine looking gal, any man would be lucky to have the likes of her warming his bed."

"Yup, reckon so." I turned to her and held out my hand. "Matt is selling his acreage for a hundred grand; good price with the stream and access to the highway."

Ann nodded and blushed, holding the thin blouse from rebounding upwards in the breeze. 

"Better get back to the misses before I get accused of doing something I didn't do -- Nice to meet you two!"

"Likewise Matt -- hope you find a buyer soon." Ann smiled as he left, and once out of sight, she kissed me gently on the cheek. I returned the kiss and sighed. It would sure be nice to live out here permanently, but the taxes and upkeep were way beyond my limited income. "I need to contact Harvey."

"What is Harvey," Ann asked innocently.

"He's my Uncle and owns the trailer we have been staying in," I replied. "He's in the hospital recovering from surgery; I have to find out how he's doing."

"We'll use the electronic media device," she exclaimed and bounded back to the trailer flashing her tight buns with every stride. Perhaps the term golden globes were inspired by a similar vision. By the time I arrived, she was somehow back on line, searching a directory of hospitals. I pointed out the correct hospital, and she keyed in the corresponding telephone number. Looking on over her shoulder, the speakers crackled to life with the sound of a phone ringing. After several lengthy transfers and a brief conversation we learned he was in ICU with a terminal prognosis.

I turned to Ann, and informed her that I had to go and she immediately agreed, slipping on a new pair of jeans sans underwear as she spoke. I quickly changed my clothes and we were soon underway, concerned urgency tainting the few words we shared. Fortunately the drive was uneventful and soon we were within the bleached white walls of the medical institution.

When I looked upon the frail remnants of Harvey, I almost turned and fled. The man who always had my back was now losing his frail grip with life. Fading in and out of drug induced consciousness, he barely recognized me, but was able to muster a weak smile and handshake. Ann saw my agony as I re-entered the waiting room (only one member of the family was authorized a 5-minute visit at a time) and asked to see him. I convinced the nurse she was a granddaughter he'd never met, and despite her lack of identification, she grudgingly let her enter. When Ann returned, she massaged my shoulders and whispered all was well. 

A short time later, a nurse carrying a tray of pills in paper cups, entered the curtained enclosure. A few seconds later, the tray clanged noisily on the shiny tile floor, and the nurse emerged and grabbed the nearest physician assistant. I bolted through the enclosure, and found Harvey sitting up in bed asking for his clothes.

"Harvey, what happened," I queried as I pushed a nurse aside.

"I pinched that frigid nurse; let's blow this joint, Jr. (the nickname he had given me when I was still in diapers).

I turned to the PA, and quietly asked him to get the release forms and his personal belongings. He started in with a list of techno babble excuses underscoring the hospital's culpability and I blew him off with a patient's right to choose option. He slunk away and returned shortly thereafter with the release forms and a wheelchair. Harvey scribbled on the signature lines without reading them (who in their right mind could understand their wording anyway), and pulled his clothes on. I advised the PA we'd contact his Doctor and raced to the pharmacy to fill the prescriptions on his chart. 

Twenty minutes later, we swung into an all-you-can-eat buffet I frequented to replace the cholesterol imbalance three days worth of bland food had created. Ann had a chocolate shake and excused herself when she saw a popular health food store a few doors down. I gave her the keys to access the cash stash if she required it. A short while later Ann returned with a contended smile and chugged another shake before we grudgingly terminated our pig out and headed for the car. Harvey sat beside me and Ann insisted on the back seat.

After the first few miles, a sense of relief descended on the car like the warmth of the midday sun. Ann and Harvey were perfect traveling companions, speaking little but with substance. I had decided to remain with Harvey for the night and stopped by the apartment to get a queen sized cushion for Ann and myself. She looked around the messy flat with mild interest until she found the computer, reverently touching the large screen. It instantly it burst to life. Patting it lovingly, it went blank and she slowly continued her investigation 

"Adequate," she said with indifference when I asked her impression. When I opened the trunk, there were several large stuffed garbage bags but when I asked what she purchased she merely smiled. We continued to Harvey's homestead, and I mentioned my conversation with Matt. Harvey agreed it was a good price for the land, but his savings, like mine were woefully short of the requested price. The sun had just dipped below the horizon when we finally arrived at the trailer. 

Harvey immediately greeted his waiting livestock, calling each by name while the nuzzled him affectionately. Even the chickens ran to him. I helped offload the car while Ann started shuffling around in the tiny kitchen, mixing a myriad of different exotic sounding chemicals in a large cooking pot. After the dark purple brew boiled for the better part of an hour, she carried it outside and poured it into old cider jug stashed under the trailer. Harvey and I were instructed to ingest a few drops every day to prevent a recurrence of the malady that had nearly cost Harvey his life. I had set up the bed and cleaned out the feed enclosure as she worked. Harvey stowed his medicines and tried to help out however he could. We worked collectively as a team; like a family and I realized we were truly happy together. 

As evening wore on, our individual tasks drew to a close; Harvey dozed peacefully in his favorite chair, Ann continued to push the limits of the internet, and I lay on the cushion, grateful to be alive. Sitting in her newly purchased white teddy, she occasionally, whispered a question or observation to me before continuing her exploration. I knew that she had saved Harvey, and the compassion and understanding she demonstrated was far beyond what I believed could originate from a construct of wires and circuits. The long drive and excitement of the day's events eventually took their toll, and I was soon lost in a profound sleep. 

Sometime during the night, Ann moved Harvey into the bed. I was stirred from my slumbers by her gentle hand s running down my chest and stopping on my genitals. As I turned slightly she whispered:

"I need you inside me."

My system quickly responded and I hugged her tightly; her sighs of contentment music to my ears. We silently slipped out of the cramped confines of the trailer into the thick underbrush. Moments later, my pants were around my ankles, her legs were locked around the small of my back, and her free hand clawing frantically to position my rapidly growing cock at her delightfully moist entrance. Even slight penetration was orgasmic for her, and several moments passed before she re-established the genital disconnect and I began the gentle assault yet forceful assault on her tight orifice. Several more orgasms ensued, my scrotum and thighs dripping from with her essence before I was fully engulfed by the urgent tugs of her vaginal muscles. Her hips did most of the work, while I struggled to support her on the uneven soil. Rising quickly, I had barely had time to catch my breath before releasing an explosive load into the warmth of her sucking cervix. 

We collapsed onto the soft forest floor, trembling with our individual afterglow. An endless desert stretched before us, gradually evolving with the gentle breezes that stirred the sand into sculpted dunes. A tiny insect with silvery opaque wings fluttered by us as we once again embraced, now completely devoid of clothes. Another, fly joined the first, then another, and soon we were surrounded be a swarm, the buzzing of their wings sweet music in the wind stirred air. Soon we rose above the dessert supported by a magnitude of silvery wings, gliding over the dunes on their song until we were arrived over a city of tinted glass enclosing forests of palm trees and bubbling crystal clear fountains. Small creatures played in the pools made by the fountains while others wandered through a myriad of sand glazed trails that led to small domed habitats. Lush green lawns and clotheslines filled with glistening attire dotted the landscape. Slowly the vision faded, with Ann in my arms as we returned to the soft forest floor and a circle of cows contentedly chewing around us. The cool night air allowed only a brief kiss, before we quickly returned to the pseudo comfort of the trailer. These other worldly experiences were becoming as wonderful as the orgasms that produced them.

I awoke to the sounds of a truck driving up to the property. Ann sprang from the cushion, wrapping a blanket around her securely as she bounded out the door. Harvey grumbled something indistinguishable and pulled on his robe as I staggered into my pants. There were two trucks outside; one was a concrete mixer, and the other a construction company truck with a small 'dozer in tow. Matt was leaning on his cane with Ann and several other men were standing in a disorganized group. I ran out to Ann, halfway expecting to find our visitors had made a wrong turn from the distant highway. As I approached, Matt held out his hand with a broad smile on his face.

"Howdy, Matt," I offered taking his hand while appraising the situation.

"Can't think of no-one I rather sell the spread too; be over this afternoon to sign it over" he exclaimed, obviously relieved.

At a loss for words, I patted his shoulder, and turned to Ann. Her broad smile explained a lot but the concern in her trembling hand when she took mine was evident. I tugged her gently, and we walked away from the men a few steps as Harvey slowly emerged from the trailer. She put her finger to her lips, and then placed her hands on gently on my temples. Suddenly, like a burst of light, everything became clear. I hugged her and turned to the contractors. There was much to do, and careful management would be required to complete the evolutions Ann began on the computer just the night before. 

Within a week, two park trailers were positioned on concrete foundations and connected to the utilities, the animals had a home, my apartment was up for rent, my car was exchanged for a new F-150 and Harvey was happily accepting his new home after a tearful farewell to his beloved airstream. By the end of the second week, patios were raised, the two homes were furnished, stocked, and connected with an open air walkway, the entire acreage was fenced, and Ann had a new, top of the line computer system. Everything was paid for; although I was certain IRS would soon have me incarcerated in a white collar institution with color TV and boring inmates playing chess. Somehow, through all the challenges the pure joy of our sexual life continued unhindered. 

Ann and Harvey were sitting together on the deck, digesting the last of the BBQ burgers I had cremated, while quietly nursing Harvey's version of a Mai Tai. Their bond had solidified over the past two weeks and they were now almost inseparable.

"Reckon you two ought to make it legal, Jr." Harvey suggested as he threw a piece of hamburger bun to the chickens. "You'd regret losin' this filly.

"Yeah, reckon we should," I replied, smiling at Ann as she cocked her head curiously. I walked over to her and got on my knees. 

"Beautiful Angel," I began; "Would you consent to an everlasting union with me."

Tears welled in her eyes as she dropped to her knees "Of course, Daniel - for eternity."

"Weirdest proposal I done ever heard," Harvey retorted. "I'll talk to Brother Anderson and get you two fixed up." With a nod, he slowly rose to his feet, gave Ann a peck on her cheek, and strolled towards the feed house.

After he left, I went into the house and grabbed a copy of my birth certificate and driver's license and handed them to her. After studying them, she got online while I cleaned the deck. She returned with a perfect copy of a birth certificate from, Dallas, Oregon. When I asked why Oregon, she revealed the creators first arrived there. A few minutes later, an older Mercedes rolled up and Brother Anderson stepped out. An older, soft spoken man that had known Harvey all his life quickly dispensed of any formalities as we introduced ourselves. Ann produced the paperwork and disappeared to the bedroom to change her attire while we informally shared tales of the community.

Suddenly the air was filled with throbbing vibrations like those I had heard the night Ann had arrived. The evening sky was filled with a kaleidoscope of brilliant colors and we were bathed in brilliant white light. Harvey and I were suddenly clothed in tuxedos, and the patio was adorned with white roses with bluebirds circling and all of Harvey's critters lined up the edge of the deck. Ann emerged from the light in beautiful wedding gown that would put Lady Diana's to shame. She was followed by two other beautifully adorned females. The shorter of the two walked up to Harvey and took his weathered hands into her delicate fingers. She had subtle oriental features with huge brown eyes and a frail figure that despite her beautiful gown, oozed sensuality.

"I desire you as my own should you have me," she murmured to Harvey.

For the first time in my life, I saw Harvey speechless - he nodded humbly as he squeezed her hands. He was never prone to impulsive decisions and his response stunned me. The light surrounding us became almost blinding momentarily before it returned to the comforting shade of before. A bouquet of roses suddenly appeared in her hands and a tear trickled down her pale and delicate face.

Ann took my side and smiled shyly as we made eye contact. My knees trembled, stomach knotted and my tongue swelled in its desert dry environment. The third and by far the stateliest of the three women floated to Brother Anderson now adorned in a glorious full body, gold trimmed robe and bowed. Her unrevealing gown glowed in blue pastels, changing hues ever so slowly. He stood trembling, in awe of the figure before him.




Andromeda 02



"Are you God?"

With a voice of an angel, she shook her head no and said: "I am the Mother of these beloved organisms who wish to eternally bond with your subjects with the blessing of your God."

After a long pause, Brother Anderson nodded, opened his book and pointed to the places we would assume. His delivery was shaky yet determined as if he was giving the sermon of a lifetime. Gold bands miraculously appeared on our ring fingers at the appropriate time in the sermon, and a choir of angelic voices erupted joyfully when he completed the service and we signed the legal documents. As I kissed the sweetest lips ever made, my entire body seemed to envelope her as if we merged into one complete entity. Harvey stumbled to a patio chair with the help of his new bride; overwhelmed but happier than I had ever seen him. His mate climbed onto his lap, soothing him with her hands and soft words. 

Bottles of Don Perignon appeared on the picnic table with a huge cake that literally glowed. The celebration kicked in, and laughter abounded amidst stolen kisses. Brother Anderson gave a quick toast to our success and sampled the exotic flavored pastry that seemed to heighten the effects of the alcohol. After handshakes, congratulatory words, and a humble bow to the Queen of the brides, he excused himself and slowly drove away. Somehow he knew he had presided over the most amazing experience of his life. Harvey winked at me and I returned it knowing, despite the many challenges, we had ascended to the pinnacle of our lives.



Andromeda 03



The warm glow that had illuminated our bonding event slowly faded as nightfall enclosed us with its cool breeze. The critters slowly wandered around aimlessly, and nestled into contented repose, as I placed some dry firewood in the fire pit I'd used to fry the hamburgers. Once lit, it provided a warming afterglow to the day's activities. I snuggled next to my Ann, her delightful body trembling with anticipation and her warm ever inviting lips warmly receptive to my overtures. Harvey was dosing peacefully with his arm across his mates' thigh, as she sweetly kissed his face with timeless compassion. I briefly wondered if his first night with her would be as wonderful as mine with Ann.

The creator queen nibbled a piece of cake and I patted the empty seat next to me and extended my arm as an invitation. She accepted with a graceful nod and seated herself while juggling the uneaten pastry.

"I owe you a tremendous debt of gratitude," I offered humbly. "Your creation, my beloved wife, has made me the happiest man alive."

"Do not allow the trials of time to diminish your sensations, earthman - my zeta units are quite fragile without love."

"As are we all," I surmised philosophically. "Does your species still require the intimacy you have so exquisitely engineered in your Zeta units for reproduction?"

"We reproduce asexually; our genders integrated early in our prehistory effectively eliminating the competitive conflicts prevalent in evolving species. We did not anticipate the dire impact the absence of male essence would provoke, however. Millions of species throughout the cosmos were unsuccessfully analyzed. Only the extracted essence of your species contains the essential balance we require. We are on the verge of full scale zeta production to harvest the essence the females of your species so recklessly avoid."

I hugged Ann and fell silent with way more information than I needed to know. The whole concept seemed just this side of both reality and practicality. "I realize I'm merely a primordial speck of pond scum on your evolutionary scale, so kindly forgive my presumptions; but you'll need to construct a multitude of these sperm sucking zeta units, risking both detection and social chaos. Technology capable of creating zeta units could surely fabricate smaller androids able to extract semen with minimum impact on the donors and their world. You can already fly through walls, and incubate the semen; all that is required is a means of extraction. A little pressure on the prostate would resolve that issue -- curing nocturnal emissions forever!"

Harvey spoke up; "It would make life a whole lot easier without emotional crap for us pond scum. Reckon Suzy and me gonna consummate our contract; hope ya don't mind." 

"Suzy," I asked skeptically.

"Yeah, we both kinda like that name. Reckon I might not be around in the mornin' after I done finished ravishing this gorgeous creature."

"You shall, and many more if you continue the cyclic ingestion of the longevity compound I created," Ann offered. He rose to his feet slowly and offered his hand to his exotic bride. She grasped it lovingly and helped support him back to their home. I winked at Ann, and she smiled knowingly.

"The post orgasmic worlds Ann and I have seen; are they real," I asked taking a sip of overpriced bubbly.

"Yes, those visions are stored in our collective consciousness. Define prostate."

"It's a small gland accessible from the ass that mixes sperm with essential nutrients during ejaculation. It doesn't generate orgasms, it is the result. With light pressure, it dumps the mixture into the urethra."

Ann and her creator fell silent, a new revelation to consider. "I should like to observe this function," the creator stated.

"In the interest of science, I suppose I could demonstrate the technique. If you posses the ability to transcend human tissue, you could provoke the discharge - with Ann's permission, of course."

Ann nodded and undid my trousers. The human body of the creator suddenly slumped and a small glowing blue orb rose silently from her mouth and drifted between my legs. As Ann gingerly held my flaccid organ upright, I pointed to the approximate location of the gland, and the blue orb gently disappeared beneath the skin. There was slight momentary pressure before my cock began to jerk rhythmically in a vain attempt to deliver a non-existent payload. After several fruitless spasms, I slumped in the chair and a bright glistening globe emerged from between my legs where it hovered momentarily before it flew upwards out of sight. Ann held my spent post orgasmic body lovingly and planted a soul sucking kiss on my lips. 

Exhausted, I pulled up my trousers and unsteadily rose to bank the fire with Ann at my side. Lifting the lifeless mechanical construct that had housed the creator inside gently, I stumbled towards our bedroom somewhat deflated, as Ann secured the lights and locks. Sometime during the night, the lifeless mannequin would disappear. Ann filled two Champaign glasses and lit a candle at the foot of our bed. I feigned exhaustion as she climbed beneath the covers and curled up next to me. I quietly thanked her for her love and support and kissed her gently before easing her head on my chest and closing my eyes. As she began to relax, I seized the opportunity and dove under the covers towards her sweet pussy. She squealed in surprise when my lips drew her nether lips to my tongue while positioning my package well beyond her reach.

The pure unabashed delight of tonguing her to a continuing series of intensifying orgasms was indescribable. Experience honed my awareness of her smothering potential, and I continued my labial assault despite her fruitless attempts to quell the orgasmic torment with her skull crushing legs. It was my opportunity to stress test this erotic organism; pushing it beyond the pre existing limits we'd encountered previously. Suddenly, there was a flash and a puff of smoke, and her body collapsed trembling as if she was on the receiving end of a high tension line. I slowly eased off of her, wiping the remnants of her ejaculate from my face and upper body, as her trembling diminished and finally ceased.

"Energy;" her frail trembling voice whispered evoked memories and my immediate response. Rolling from the bed, I pulled the end table lamp cord forcefully, quickly separated the power cord from the base. Grabbing two band aids from the medicine cabinet, I taped the live leads of the power cord to either side of her torso and fell back as her back arched with the infusion. Visions of Frankenstein came to mind. Her body slowly relaxed and I unplugged the power cord, released the taped leads, and gently wiped away the barely noticeable discoloration on her torso; somehow relieved to hear soft mechanical whirring emanating from deep within her chest. A few moments later, her eyelids flickered open and she sensually stretched her extremities. 

Call me what you will, but I dove back into her perfect pussy for more. Her hands grabbed my hair as her orgasmic shrieks filled the air. Riding a fresh series of orgasms, I pondered the volume of her internal reservoir as I was almost continually battered by her orgasmic spray. Finally, with a barely audible voice, she begged me to stop; as her beautiful body trembled continually. The numbness in my tongue warned of imminent failure, and I reluctantly withdrew to the comfort of her waiting arms. There would be no voyages to exotic worlds this night, but there would be sweet memories to relive. Early morning came far too early with a muffled knock at the back door. I stumbled into my robe suppressing a rash of swear words. Harvey stood in his weathered bathrobe as a light mist fell glazing his shoulders and the countryside.

"I done broke her," he muttered crestfallen, "She's insatiable." 

"Hold on. . ." I muttered and dodged back into the bedroom - awakened Ann and told her there was a problem with Suzy and grabbed the improvised power cord. She threw on her robe and darted past us.

We scrambled inside to find Suzy staring at the ceiling naked. Her tiny nipples were still erect, her legs splayed open obscenely, and her body quivered spasmodically. Ann motioned for us to leave and we went into the living room where I poured two glasses of bubbly. Harvey never spoke but I could see the disappointment written on his face as he downed the clear liquid with a gulp. Ann emerged a few minutes later and motioned for Harvey to join her. When she emerged again, she took my hand and led me back to our bedroom. Her delicate feet were coated with pine needles, and I grabbed a towel to dry them as she explained Suzy had suffered a catastrophic overload and the recovery relay failed to engage the necessary protocols. Then she thanked me for the energy transfusion I'd performed earlier and asked me to maintain the lamp cord nearby when I decided to test her limits again. I assured her I would and knew I would never question Harvey's virility again.

"Boy," the commanding southern drawl shook me from my profound sleep abruptly.

"You gonna lay around on your lazy butt all day, or you gonna give me some of that cream you been hoardin'?"

"If I had my preferences, lying around has a certain appeal right now," I mumbled trying to grasp my surroundings. A voluptuous naked black goddess with large brown breasts capped with huge nipples and rich full hips supporting a bubble butt stood before me with a defiant look on her face. Rich course black pubic hair covered her sex, and her large brown doe eyes twinkled with excitement. "My, my," she exclaimed as she ripped the warm blankets from the bed, "Ain't that a pretty sight - Mommas going to like this!" She effortless mounted my torso, her breasts dangling over me with an unspoken invitation, as the glistening patch of black steel wool insistently rubbed the length of my cock.

Despite the unfamiliarity, I stiffened and she slid the full length into her depths with a firm downward thrust. Larger than her blond counterpart, she slid easily up and down my length several times before her vaginal muscles locked up and she threw her head back in release. Feeding one of the huge areolas into my mouth, she whispered: "Brown sugar, for my baby," as she began to ride me again. The nipple dribbled a tasty, creamy substance that cranked my libido into overdrive; the more I ingested, the more profound my countering thrusts became. Again she threw her head back and squealed, as she flooded my torso. I switched breasts and she started her thrusts again threatening to flatten my hips. Despite the discomfort, her ride was delightful, a fine sheen of sweat forming on her dark soft skin. The intense ride soon coaxed my boiling seed to release, and I clenched my teeth and froze, clenching my sphincter until I felt the tell tale spasms of her impending orgasm.

I unloaded violently amidst the fountain of thick pungent ejaculate she released, my essence splashing against her cervix and coating my cock head before squishing out noisily on to her ebony thigh. The colors of a million rainbows engulfed us, intertwining our free floating bodies with a cacophony of sensual stimulation. Angelic sounds born on the streams of constantly changing light tickled our ears as the sweet smell of lavender permeated the air. Ann's magnificent body swirled and tumbled gleefully, just out of reach but ever present as we soared through the multi colored web of light. She came to me, and curled around my body, enclosing it in a womb of sensual delight while flooding me with warmth that defied description. A loud knocking made the colors recede as we lay on our bed staring at the ceiling, our eyes gradually becoming accustomed to the light of the morning. Ann stirred, and mumbled, morphing back into the figure of the stunning blond I'd become accustomed to being with while muttering about providing nutrition.

I slowly rolled from the bed, struggling to slip into my robe as I opened the door. A ravishing redhead in a robe that barely hid her large full lily white breasts and the landing strip of red curls between her legs bounded through the door and hugged me before scampering to Ann in the kitchen. Harvey staggered in behind her, obviously at the edge of his physical endurance, and plopped heavily onto the recliner. I crossed my arms and waited until his incoherent mumbling stopped.

"Reckon I regret never smoking weed," he grumbled as he straitened his robe. "Suzy and me done went on a psycho-dilliac trip . . ." He mumbled and sat staring at the floor numbly, his senses obviously overloaded. I patted his shoulder and stepped outside to feed the critters. When I returned, he was in the same position with both brides standing nearby, their faces etched with concern. I kneeled in front of him and his gaze slowly rose to meet mine as a broad smile crossed his weathered lips. "I wanna do that again," he exclaimed as he rose from the chair.

"Not until your nutritionally restored, lover;" It was Suzy making more of a demand than a request. We ate a delicious breakfast of ham and eggs with a side of toast and eventually wondered into a conversation of potential honeymoon locations. Although Harvey expressed concern for the critters, we eventually decided on a weeklong trip to the ocean in an RV. Harvey called Brother Anderson, who was eager for a brief respite from the church, and quickly accepted the temporary care taker position. Ann and Suzy rented a 28-ft Winnebego online while Harvey and I went through the maps and plotted the course. While Harvey and Suzy packed, Ann and I went to the RV center where Ann demonstrated another of her many talents, by going over the RV with a technician, pointing out potential faults he quickly repaired. Even more, she stepped into the cockpit and, despite my anxieties, fired up the unit (without a key) and expertly drove it home.

Eager to begin our journey, we bid a quick farewell to the critters, threw our bags on the bed, and headed off into the twilight with Ann at the wheel. Harvey and I buckled in at the table that converted into a bed, and commenced a round of cribbage; continuing our tournament for a yet undetermined grand prize. The miles slipped away quickly until darkness set in and the glow of distant taillights guided us. With the tank on empty and all the gas stations we passed closed, we finally found a small, out of the way RV Park. We hooked up, grabbed out coats and flashlights, and wandered around the park perimeter; finally stretching out in a nearby field to gaze upon the magnificent display of abundant stars. Tightly wrapped together effectively warding off the cool night air, we were overwhelmed by the magnificent celestial display.

Suddenly the night was filled with a brilliant light focused on the small patch of field where we lay. A vibrant blue ball floated into our field of view and the familiar voice of Ann's creator floated on the wind.

"My children, the non invasive nocturnal collectors you envisioned were well received by the council and the prototypes have been successfully proven. We require a secure location for processing and dissemination of the essence." 

I was stunned the concept was so rapidly implemented. Ann's face brightened noticeably; "Can I see one?" There was a slight nudge on my free hand and I swung the flashlight to illuminate it. At first nothing was visible but if I focused very carefully, I could see a thin egg shaped outline floating gently on the still night air.

"Where's the remainder of the mechanism," I inquired.

"In a self generated dimensional void - your essence cannot survive within." 

"How large would this processing facility need to be when completed?" 

"The approximate displacement of the small habitat removed from your property. It would be terra-formed to reduce detection."

"The presence of aliens in my backyard holds a certain amount of appeal for me; what do you think, Harvey?"

"If'n they don't mess up the TV signal, and leave the critters alone, they can have the whole spread! Our old ladies might like havin' their kin hanging around too."

"Our eternal gratitude is yours," the sphere whispered on the wind as it disappeared among the multitude of stars.

"Think that's the last we'll deal with them," I queried as we walked back to the RV.

"Never heard of a Mother leavin' her offspring in peace," Harvey retorted. "She's a decent sort though."

We climbed into the RV and prepared our bed, as Suzy and Harvey disappeared in the back discreetly securing the privacy screen behind them. As we climbed under the covers, Ann curled up behind me reassuringly. I pondered how my life had so abruptly changed from one going nowhere, to a life with unlimited possibilities; how the elements we discharge with haste and distaste can be a lost cog in a much greater cosmic wheel; and how the understated benefits of dreams enrich most every aspect of life. Grateful for the opportunities, I concluded my good fortune originated from the ability to transcend the institutions we've been conditioned to believe. However the future unfolded, the contentment I felt in the company of Harvey and our alien android wives would endure forever. 



Andromeda 01



The phone jangled unceremoniously as dawn's glow enveloped the flickering remains of the star studded heavens. It was Uncle Harvey, and he needed someone to watch over his remote acreage while he was in the hospital. Harvey was older than history, refusing to succumb to the trials of life and the advancements of modern technology, spending the greater part of his day wandering through his heavily wooded property to feed a flock of chickens and a few head of cattle that free ranged there.  His "home" was an old Airstream with tarps thrown over the top and a small pump house nearby where he stored his feed and tools.  I always had a soft spot for Harvey, his tenacity commanded respect, and his soft seldom spoken words were soothing to even those who refused to hear. With a few essentials hurriedly thrown into a handbag, I was soon on the three hour drive into the hills and Harvey.

Weak yet determined, Harvey left shortly after giving me few instructions and his heartfelt thanks. The sudden silence was deafening, and claustrophobia set in immediately. I soon realized my dependence on electronic media, and flipped on the small portable radio. After toying with the tuner for several long minutes I realized the listening venue was extremely limited. It would be a long stay. Just forced into retirement, I was on a job search that had thus far proven fruitless. My pension would barely cover my existence with vacations and luxuries reserved for my dreams and memories. My "lifetime" companion had parted ways several years earlier to pursue her life as a professional gold digger and my only kid had moved across country in pursuit of vague promises of fame. Basically alone, I had adapted - content with a simple life, yet longing to fulfill dreams I had long ago repressed.

My musings were suddenly shattered by an increasing high pitched whine followed by a resounding impact that violently shook the trailer, sending dishes and other paraphernalia flying. I jumped out of the trailer to see a few localized fires in the treetops and a large mound of dirt. A small shiny cylinder, that wasn't part of the natural topography rose a few feet above and beyond the dirt pile. Unlawful reentry, I mused, and briefly considered the debate over immigration laws; wondering if extra terrestrials might be included. With no phone, and barely enough gas in the car to get me back to civilization, I was on my own. Briefly, I considered the option of returning to the pseudo security of the trailer and await the arrival of the MIB's; but curiosity and the opportunity to cash in on alien souvenirs outweighed caution. 

The pile of dirt was warm, obscuring most of the seamless cylinder. It glowed with a faint blue light every couple of seconds that made my hair stand on end and made the air tremble with a vibration that I couldn't hear, but definitely felt. Hesitating, I slowly walked up to the craft and touched its surface. The temperature of the craft was cooler than I anticipated. The fires it set on its approach were dying into embers, and there was no other sound – the forest was deathly quiet. I began to scoop handfuls of dirt away from the hull, searching for identifying marks but there were none. After several minutes of dirt displacement, my quest for answers and souvenirs remained as it had when I began. I stood somewhat breathlessly, resigned to assisting the MIB's when they arrived when a small globe, slowing swirling with blue pastel shades appeared beside me out of seemingly nowhere.

I slowly turned to confront my floating blue companion, quite aware that it was violating several laws of nature, and smiled. The colors began to lose their distinction and I heard a delicate feminine voice mutter a single, yet crystal clear petition for help. Don't ask me how I could understand; I reckon I'll never know. Yet, the request was clear, explicit, and urgent. I was compelled to comply, and opened my arms with my palms up in the universal gesture (I hoped) of 'how?' Again, I instantly understood its request for energy. Energy is a pretty nebulous term when one considers its properties, but as the sphere continued to lose color and sink slowly to the ground, the urgency became obvious. 

I raced back to the trailer, looked around and found some old 2-line wire under the couch seat. Back outside, the only outlet was on the porch light, which I quickly dismantled and crammed the wires crudely into the socket. Unrolling the line gingerly, I worked my way to the cylinder and, after separating the two wires, tucked one line into the dirt touching one side of the cylinder and tucked the other onto the opposing side. I should point out the cylinder was only a foot or so in diameter, so the evolution only took a few seconds. Once the lines were secured, I raced back to the trailer and flipped the porch light on. A puff of smoke erupted from the light socket and the small light over the range dimmed considerably, but the cylinder glowed softly with the crude electrical transfusion. I ran back outside and retrieved the fallen orb from the bed of dried pine needles where it lay. Cradling it gently, I raced back into the trailer and placed it into a small decorative basket sitting by the window. Placing the basket next to the small stove light, I began to search for some more line. A small pop made me wheel around abruptly. In its quest for energy, the small sphere apparently popped the light bulb and was drawing a fine blue green line of current from the empty socket.

Content with the apparent energy crises averted, I hustled outside to the back shed and found an old rusty spade. After an hour of almost constant shoveling, the cylinder was completely covered with dirt and fallen branches. I finished just as I heard the MIB's drive up. Denying any knowledge of spaceships, aliens or conspiracy theories, they soon climbed back into their black SUV and continued down the road. If they would have paused to check my power meter spinning at a bizzilion rpm, they may well have remained. After a light lunch and warm beer, I set out on the chores that Uncle Harvey had outlined. The chickens were hidden under an old decaying log and the cows were huddled against the back fence. I voiced my disapproval and gently herded the critters back to their feed bins. They joined me grudgingly, and soon were happily pecking and chomping their way to happiness. I wandered around the property and soon experienced the peace that could only be found in the unspoiled beauty of nature. One of the young calves stopped feeding and came over to nuzzle my hand. For the first time in many years, I felt content.

Suddenly the stillness was shattered, the birds took wing in disarray, the cows bolted, and I looked up long enough to catch a brief glimpse of a silver sliver streaking through the trees towards the heavens. So much for souvenirs! With my tranquility shattered, I gathered my remaining thoughts and slowly made my way through the thick fern undergrowth towards the trailer. I couldn't help but wonder about the world my power hungry guests had come from. Then again, I rationalized; I didn't really need to know. There was an hour worth of work to restore the trailer waiting for me before dusk settled in and the day had provided more than enough excitement. 

After examining the outside light fixture carefully, it became apparent that the socket was fused beyond repair. Stomping my feet to clean off the excess pine needles, I stepped into the trailer and there, on the heavily soiled couch lay the most beautiful female form I had ever laid my eyes on. I gasped and stepped backwards, missing the step and falling ass over teakettle into a growth of ferns. Staggering to my feet and shaking my head to dislodge the beautiful feminine image that surely must have originated in the twilight zone, I re-entered the trailer. She was still there – with beautiful doe-like brown eyes, long silky brown hair and legs that went on forever. No denying it, I was stunned and staggered backwards till the wall met my butt.

"Do you not like me?" Her frail high pitched voice barely registered on my traumatized brain. "I can be what you desire. . ." she offered as she morphed into a glorious African goddess with large full breasts and well toned thighs. A few moments later, it morphed into a frail oriental beauty with delicious mysterious eyes and small cupcake breasts, and then an Indian princess with thick black hair that reached her butt and dark piercing eyes that seem to hold the secrets of life itself.

"Hold on there," I blurted, still reeling from the shape shifting entity serenely perched on the couch. "Who or what are you?"

"I am created for you." It rose to its feet unsteadily and once balanced, walked to me with unsure steps. 

"Ah, that's . . . nice," I responded, my thoughts in overdrive. Reaching out I gently steadied her, her warm skin soft and amazingly supple; almost human! Gently guiding her to a seat, I eased her into it gently. 

"Show me your reproductive organs," she implored.

"Whoa . . . a little forward, aren't we," I stepped back a little stunned.

"No." She responded as she reached forward and had my pants and underwear around my ankles in a heartbeat. Her gentle hands quickly swept to my groin, and explored my limp package with the curiosity of a child. "It is beautiful," she whispered, as her dark aroused nipples protruded through a sheer translucent white gown and the unmistakable scent of sexual arousal drifted into the stale air. Her supple fingertips caressed every millimeter of my cock as if it were a priceless gem. Predictably, I became aroused with her gentle caresses. I absently stroked the thick crown of glorious black hair while stroking the soft olive toned skin of her face and neck.

Suddenly she withdrew and stared at my now fully engorged member with wide eyes. "Have I damaged it?"

It took me a moment to understand the disconnect. "Quite the contrary," I replied breathlessly. 

The slight smile that she displayed on my response was quickly replaced by one of genuine concern. "It is too large to penetrate my receptor!"

I'd never heard a pussy being referred to as a receptor but, then again, I've never made love to an alien android either. Smiling, I ran my fingers through her long lustrous hair. The concern on her face faded as the gown she wore simply melted away offering an unobstructed view of her beautifully sculpted body. Once again, her delicate fingers probed my now throbbing flesh with renewed fascination. I eased my cock over to one of the two deliciously erect nipples and gently rubbed the head around the large deep brown teat. She first rolled her head back, then her eyes as she murmured indistinguishable phrases. Her body slid lower into the chair and her hips began rocking rhythmically. The intensity of her arousal grew exponentially when one of her hands slid onto my thigh and the other to the bushy cleft between her legs. A drop of liquid slowly formed on her aroused nipple and combined with the drop that my own organ produced, mixing to form a sensual lubricant that only heightened our mutual sensations. Just as I was about to switch nipples, her body stiffened, her legs crossed tensely and she released a long low moan that was unmistakably orgasmic. Her hips rose from the chair and she released a long crystal clear stream that splashed forcefully against my thigh. Her eyes fluttered and I swear a small puff of smoke escaped her ears as we both experienced our first ever titty orgasm. 

I'm not sure who was more surprised, but she manifested all the symptoms of a serious neurological overload; short quick breaths, trembling extremities, and a face of pure agony. It took several minutes for post orgasmic euphoria to set in.  Sprawled in the chair, a vision of both beauty and exhaustion, I marveled at her physical perfection and the technology required to create her. Quietly I pulled my pants over my wilting cock and ever so gently lifted her lifeless frame from the chair and onto the bed just moments before my back muscles gave out. She was a handful in many ways. 

I grabbed a bottle of water – Harvey refilled them every morning from a nearby stream. His longevity was a testimonial to its benefits although its purity was questionable, at best. Watching her rest so blissfully was infectious, but too many incongruities in her existence kept sleep at bay. In front of me lay a beautiful creature of alien origin. Even her deep respiration provided a contradiction – why does she need air; does she really need air or was her respiration a programmed manifestation provided for my acceptance? She murmured something quietly and rolled on her side. The instant she realized I was sitting next to her she rose slightly and patted the bed next to her.

"Repose," was all she said.

I slowly rose, aware of several muscles that announced their overworked status and rolled into her waiting arms. Her body was warm and soft, and her arms embraced me with the tenderness that a mother holds her newborn. Despite my preoccupations, sleep came rapidly. Several times during the night, I awoke to her warm soothing embrace, blocking my overactive mind from rejecting this other worldly scenario, and snuggled as close as I could – the chill in the night air barely noticeable. Despite the contradictions she presented, I felt at peace and fell into a profound sleep. The sun had barely tinted the morning sky when I awoke to an empty bed. My alien companion was standing next to me, her nakedness barely discernible in the dim light. Her hands were wandering over my face and exposed arms lovingly.  Directly in front of my face was the unruly bush covering her "receptor" and the musky scent of her arousal filled my nostrils. 

When such a rare opportunity presents itself, one would be three sheets the other side of crazy to ignore it. Pulling her to me by her full round cheeks, I buried my face into the knarly mass of curls, my tongue on seek-and-destroy mode. Her hands instinctively grabbed my hair and she issued a surprised squeak. The delicate inner lips had barely descended in sharp contrast to the maturation of her full hips and ripe breasts. When my tongue grazed her clit, her legs trembled forcing me to grab her more tightly to prevent her falling. Two circles and one tongue swipe across the large throbbing nub later, she blew a large volume of her orgasmic essence onto my face, forcing me to gulp and gasp for air. She screamed a long low, sensual sound that startled the sleeping birds outside and provided the sweetest music I've ever heard. My grip momentarily relaxed in surprise and she went down to her knees bathing the mattress with several more orgasmic blasts. Her creators should be nominated for the Nobel peace prize for the orgasmic response she demonstrated. The idea of an orgasmic android was something Hollywood had never dreamed of, and seemed as alien as the alien itself.

"Are you OK," I queried after her spasms subsided and I wiped my face.

"Several servos are hyper-extended and my receptor sensitivity is beyond threshold," she murmured softly after several moments.  It wasn't quite the response I expected, but well within reason. She reached over and ran her delicate fingers over my crotch gently, tracing the outline of my rapidly engorging organ. Slowly rising on unsteady legs, she promptly dispatched my attire, maintaining both cock and eye contact until I was fully engorged. "Your penetration is required," she murmured softly with underscored urgency.

"Climb aboard, then," I urged; momentarily releasing my inhibitions to the throes of lust.  She straddled my hips lightly, and slowly descended until the head of my cock disappeared into her thick nest of pubic curls and lodged on the puffy pussy lips hidden within. Guiding my throbbing organ with her one hand while stabilizing her body with her other hand on my chest, she moved her hips across my torso slowly. That motion alone was too much for her over stimulated sensors, and she immediately bucked her voluptuous hips while bathing my genitals with a tidal wave of orgasmic effluence. She collapsed heavily on my chest while trembling violently. I tried to reposition myself to breathe easier, but the slight friction of my semi-hard cock was enough to trigger her hips to instinctively kick-in. Another orgasm overwhelmed her tortured frame and her cry of release sounded more like agony than ecstasy. Her hair trigger would be the death of me, I mused, as pondered the wording of my imminent obituary. Thankfully, she rolled off my frame in a daze and curled up in a fetal position next to me as the darkness in my field of vision slowly dissolved.

Her gentle fingers wrapped around my soggy deflating organ gingerly, as her respiration slowed and she sighed softly with every breath. Where I had failed with the human female, I had excelled with an artificial life form. Perhaps one of the other feminine forms she assumed when I first encountered her might be less sensitive – it might be worth a try. For now, I must feed the animals, and get some coffee on the stove. The outdoor and stove top light needed repair also, so gently I rolled away from the sleeping beauty, and took a quick shower before donning a fresh set of rags and grabbing the empty water bottles. I headed out into the crisp morning air, closing the door quietly as I left. The critters were waiting expectantly, and responded timidly to my gentle overtures. Once the animals were fed, I drew some fresh water for both the animals and the empty plastic bottles from the nearby stream. On the way back to the trailer, I pulled the wires I had strung yesterday and rolled them up neatly. 

Once back inside the trailer, I saw my alien companion sitting naked on the bed with her knees drawn under her chin and a distant look in her eyes.  Trying to obtain some sign of recognition I waved my arms in front of her, but she sat motionless as if in another world. Strange subtle whirring sounds originating from the back of her head were barely audible and I cursed my insensitivity assuming I must have blown her circuits. The coffee was still perking into black mud; so I watered it down a tad and pondered how to dispose of the body. Suddenly, her eyes momentarily glowed blue and her breathing resumed with quick, short gasp. I walked over to her and she responded with a weak smile as she stretched out her long olive toned legs. She was absolutely beautiful.

"What happened?"

"Reprogramming," she muttered unemotionally. "Am I acceptable?"

"I suppose," I offered, taking a long deep breath. "I know so little about you that I'm admittedly hesitant.  Am I just a hunk of meat to satisfy your sexual curiosity and exchange fluids, or am I more than that? And what needed reprogramming, anyways? I should have known you have mechanical thresholds and been more receptive." 

Her entire body instantly went limp; her eyes lost their color, her arms dangled uselessly by her sides and she collapsed into a fetal position. I figured I'd overloaded her with my verbal expletives somehow; so beautiful yet so fragile. She had returned to her makers and I was stuck with the lifeless remnants to discard with yesterday's news. Suddenly, there was a warm glowing light that filled the trailer and she stirred back to life, her eyes glowed with the same blue pastels that the orb displayed a day earlier and her limbs trembled with renewed animation. The light abruptly disappeared and I rushed over to embrace her. 

"Your responses reveal that you have accepted me," she proclaimed.

"Yeah, guess I have -now how about sharing some of your characteristics with me – or at least provide a rudimentary owner's manual."

"I apologize, but our introductory stage required more observations and analysis to complete my assimilation into this world.  I have been reprogrammed with your linguistic patterns and strengthened structural modifications. I will no longer suffer from catastrophic sensory overloads and will communicate with more effective speech patterns now. Specifically, I am a self-sustaining zeta unit that requires ambient energy to regenerate and your love to thrive. I will assist you however possible, and remain your dedicated unit until you pass on into the next realm. Whatever you may desire, I will endeavor to provide."




Andromeda 01



I took a long swig of coffee and savored its warmth. "Acceptance comes easy, but love takes time and time is about all I have to offer. I reckon we need to get you up to speed on the world you live in."  She rose magnificently, and strolled over to me extending her hand which I grabbed gently and rose to meet her. We exchanged our first long, sensuous kiss. She tasted sweeter than a fine wine. After I grabbed my breath, I asked "What is your name?"

"I have none," she confessed somewhat reluctantly.

"How about Ann; short for Andromeda, a nearby galaxy I've heard about?"

"Ann – I'm now Ann, the mate of . . .?"

"Daniel – Dan would be good."

"Are you happy with this body?"

"It's beautiful," I murmured reverently, "Would you be upset if I asked for something different?"

"No, change is good and gives me opportunity to experience our coupling in the form you prefer."

"Well, how about a tall slender blond with blue eyes, long legs, small perky breasts, and less hair between your legs." To my amazement, she quickly and effortlessly morphed into a statuesque blond goddess complete with full pouting lips and a small upturned nose. I felt the blood flowing to my groin almost immediately - this was going to be fun! She leaned into me for a second sensual kiss as her hand slipped between us to the bulge in my Levi's. My hand zeroed in on a small pink nipple jutting out proudly with anticipation. In an instant, I was stepping out of my pants, knowing that this time she would experience the full force of my penetration. We fell onto the bed, and I put her long legs over my shoulders while my pulse raced. Her nearly hairless pussy and slim hips provided the perfect landing site for my rigid cock. With a few gentle nudges, I found her moist center and, with every muscle straining, slowly pressed the throbbing intruder into her depths. It was a slow process; she was so tight that it was impossible to proceed in any other manner. A faint pink hue spread across her chest as her delicate hands clutched the comforter. She was so human, it was almost surreal! Her facial features grimaced with my intrusion as her soft fingers painfully gripped my rib cage. With less than half my length enveloped, her hips swung abruptly towards the head of the bed and she voiced a high pitch squeal that likened to shatter glass. A burst of orgasmic essence erupted on my torso as her vaginal muscles clamped down so tightly that my bewildered cock was forced out into the open. Wrapping her arms around me with a vice grip, her hips danced in a frenzy trying to pin my freed organ tightly against her clit.

I let euphoria overtake her, and just as she relaxed, I went for my second attempt, plunging quickly into her warmth as far as I could before the friction of her tightening vaginal walls curtailed any further advance. I eased out and back in, entering the silky depths a tad further. Repeating the process with gentle pressure over several minutes, I finally reached her cervix. It felt as if her cervix kissed the glans tenderly just as the muscles along her vaginal walls began a series of rhythmic constrictions beginning at the base and terminating right at the very tip. I couldn't withdraw, the muscles at the base were cinched too tightly, yet the rhythmic tugging eliminated the need. Faster and faster, they continued their sequential tugging crowned by gentle cervical kisses, until my own sensory input reached overload. The first eruption of sperm deep inside her was met with her own eruption as we experienced our first explosive mutual climax. Explosive is the closest way to describe our collective sensations as we tumbled ecstatically onto the floor, thrusting desperately as we rode our orgasmic ecstasy beyond physical reality. I found myself free falling on a cosmic journey through the heavens, lost in the wonder of limitless fulfillment. It was as if I was no longer what I thought I had always been; an insignificant grain of sand on the seashore of time!  There was unremitting joy and contentment separating my spirit from the restrictive confines I had learned to accept. Ever so slowly the visions faded back into the sweaty reality of two exhausted lovers tightly embraced on a carpeted floor reeking of mildew. 

I kissed her, and thanked her, as her eyes flickered with glowing contentment. It would be several hours before we untangled our extremities and returned to stasis, grateful for the experience we shared and eager to go at it again once we recovered. Slowly I got to my feet and got dressed as Ann lay in repose. I realized it was not her form but her construct that had made this event so profoundly satisfying. I staggered to the door and slowly opened it, partially wondering if the world I'd known was still outside. It was, although the cows were lined up in a semicircle around the door, chewing their cud contentedly. I fumbled with the fried light socket momentarily until her soft warm hand emerged from behind me and grasped the socket in her palm. A silent hum and a few sparks later, a virtually brand new fixture hung in its place. This girl was amazing.

I turned to her, and was about to ask how she accomplished such a feat without tools or supplies, but her big blue eyes and beautiful body stilled my curiosity. She took my hand and we walked into the forest wordlessly, allowing the calm beauty to replenish our souls. The cows slowly followed us. 

"Ann," I finally broke our silence near the fence at the edge of the property, "I have little to offer, hardly any money or material goods, but if I could, I'd surely give you . . ."

"Shhh, it's OK Daniel, I'll make things right with you. Where do you obtain this money?"

"At a bank or cash machine, but there are security issues, IRS, FBI. . . "

"Take me there," she commanded.

"You'll need some clothes, Ann."

"Yours will be fine," she said and quickly turned and bounded back towards the trailer with myself and bunch of cows in hot pursuit.

A few minutes later, I slowly eased my old car down the rutted dirt road, with Ann in my best clean T-shirt and a grossly oversized pair of Levi's sitting next to me. The trip was uneventful in the late afternoon glow, and we hardly spoke as Ann was entranced by the passing scenery. She kept her left hand cupped on my crotch even though I advised her it was not considered appropriate around others. At one point she took my bank card and, after studying it briefly, placed it in the palm of her hand and closed her eyes. She returned it after assuring me it wouldn't be needed anymore. Far-be-it for me to attempt to imagine what she was about to do, so I fumbled with a few back-up scenarios in case things turned sour. 

We finally got into town where a cash machine stood awash in lights outside the bank building. She stepped out of the car, strolled over to the machine, and put her hand on the screen. Moments later, bills began flying out of the front of the machine and I hurried out to help her stow the wandering cash. On final count, there was close to twenty thousand dollars in assorted bills. I stashed all but a few thousand under the seat, but when I geared up for a quick getaway, she placed her hand on my leg and smiled.

"The security devices were disabled, Dan; and the machine is empty."

"How did you do that?"

"It is difficult to explain with your current knowledge," she replied somewhat remorsefully, "But the money will not be missed."

"Then let's get you some clothes!"

Few stores were open, but we got her several changes of jeans and blouses with underwear (which she absolutely detested) and shoes. I purchased the missing light bulbs, a cheap laptop computer and tanked up the car. On the way home, I swung into the local market to restock where Ann became fascinated with canned food and saran wrap. The final stop was a small family owned malt shop and although she didn't require conventional nutrition, her love of French fries and chocolate malts quickly became apparent. She savored the taste sensations all the way home, while I did my best to drain the grease from my burgers before I ate them.  

Once back at the trailer where the cows were lined up awaiting our arrival, I gave her the laptop. She giddily clapped her hands and bolted into the trailer. While I fed the cows and savored my situation, Ann mastered the idiosyncrasies of our modern technology. When I returned to the trailer, she was glued to the computer screen as it flashed images so fast I couldn't focus on them. Her hands never touched the keyboard - only the mouse was a blur of constant motion. How she ever got online was a mystery to me. The range of emotions she displayed ranged from silent tears to brief outbursts of laughter corresponding to the images that momentarily paused on the screen. It was a joy to watch her learn over a bag of microwave popcorn. As sleep began to overrun my observations, she closed the cover and stepped over to drop on my lap, her arm wrapped firmly around my shoulder.

"You world is a study of inconsistencies, with such beauty and such horror -  how does one live in harmony with such extremes?"

"We abide, I guess," I murmured philosophically. "There are always those less fortunate, and those with more than they need; yet despite these inconsistencies, we endeavor to remain at peace with ourselves."

She nodded and fell silent for a moment. "Why is there so much sex online?" Her free hand wandered down my chest to my fly, casually releasing the flaccid organ within. Her delicate fingers traced the outline of my genitals gently coaxing life into my loins.

"Well . . .We are sexual beings, sweetie; what we can't get from our 'mates' we fantasize about online." I unbutton her blouse slowly, brushing the fine blond strands over her shoulder.

"Restrained sexuality is counterproductive to the well being of sentient beings. Such a shame to neglect such a beautiful organ for the senseless concerns of your world," she mused sadly while squeezing my lengthening cock securely. "I could never accept that solution." 

"It's the way of the world Ann," I conceded as I released the last button on her jeans. She lifted her hips slightly, and her jeans slid down her silky legs and pooled at her feet. Spreading her legs as wide as the arms of the chair would allow, she guided the head of my cock across the moist puffy lips of her sex with a longing sigh. Her hands continued to explore our exposed genitals gently, until she found her sweet spot and gently maneuvered her hips to allow access.. I groaned as the head slipped past the peach fuzz into her core. It was still incredibly tight, but the smooth walls and strong muscular contractions pulled the head of my cock within quickly. I eased my hands up to her glorious hard nipple breasts and gently squeezed their firm fullness as she moaned and erupted in a cock ejecting climax. Despite her brief orgasmic release, she frantically fumbled for my expelled organ and repositioned it, forcing herself onto its length with a painful yelp.

"Just relax, Ann," I coached as my organ sought deeper penetration. Her muscles released their cock crushing grip slightly yet sufficiently enough to allow my slick organ to become fully encased before they clamped tightly again. The sensation triggered yet another explosive orgasm. Ignoring her orgasmic throes, I withdrew slightly and plunged in again, her internal muscles milking the length of my shaft with inhuman efficiency. The deep boiling intensity of my impending climax arose almost instantly, and with a final squeeze of her delicious breast, I let go - spewing a lifetime of passion into her depths. A kaleidoscope of colors enveloped us accompanied by a cosmic symphony of soothing sounds, as we sailed throughout eternity; her hand firmly gripping my own. Her body had a halo of blue energy that shone like a star on the warm comforting cosmic journey we shared. We swooped past a multitude of worlds with a myriad of creatures of every description inhabiting them. Stars exploded in a cascade of breath taking light as asteroids whizzed by unhindered by the warmth of the solar winds. I kissed her passionately and our bodies entwined in a joyful carefree meld of unity.  

Slowly the fantasy faded into darkness, and I opened my eyes to a darkened trailer and a gorgeous blond sitting on my lap with her head on my shoulder and her pussy still clutching my deflated cock. I slowly repositioned myself to shift Ann's weight and she sighed contently. Replaying the memory of our cosmic voyage over and over again, I grasped at the elation the freedom provided and wondered somewhere, in the depth of my core, if there could ever be more. Ann had irreversibly changed my life, and I was destined to follow her to the ends of reality. I began to explore my sanity; was sex turning me into a mindless robot? She stirred, and the unmistakable tugging at my cock began again, far more gently than before, but with the same sense of urgency. Her big blue eyes fluttered open as a smile crossed her face. Turning towards me, she tightened her embrace as I slowly stroked the soft golden hair in the darkness. She drifted back into her dreams, still massaging my organ. I too, eased my head back and savored the feeling, and dreamed of a life filled with the hopes and mysteries of Andromeda.



Andromeda: A Toast: Bottoms Up!



ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS: This is for DeeDee, who wanted to see Tyr give up control.

*

Tyr Anasazi strolled Antolli Drift idly.

Having completed the Andromeda's supplies transactions, the crew was on a brief shore leave until delivery was complete. He had made some inquiries and checked in on a few contacts; it was important to keep as many avenues for scheming open as possible, hedged against later need.

But now even that business was done, and Tyr was starting to get bored. He disinterestedly scanned the crowds of babbling people, smelled the alcoholic beverages as he passed a down-scale bar, curled his lip in contempt as he meandered past a room-rent establishment for trysts... That's when he realized he was moving from the working-class section of the Drift into the 'unsavory' part.

His pace slowed slightly. He wasn't afraid; after all, who would attack him? A large, well-armed Nietzschean was not the kind of target these reprobates would choose. No, he just wasn't in the mood to deal with human garbage right now.

He slowed to a stop and sighed quietly, casually eyeing the nightclub across the alley. No way was he going in there, he snorted to himself. It stank of intoxicants and human sweat -- and the music! *If you feel generous enough to call it that,* he thought disdainfully. It was talentless and too jagged on the nerves.

He was just turning about to go back the way he came when he saw Harper stagger out the front door of the offensive place. The Little Professor looked done-in; he was flushed and breathing heavily, and appeared to need the support of a wall in order to remain standing.

Tyr was about to leave the pesky engineer to his own debaucheries when something else snagged his attention. There was a man lingering just inside the doorway Harper had just exited, and he was trying way too hard to seem casual. The lurker was eyeballing Harper as the little blonde bent over and 'whoofed' for air, staggering a little on the sidewalk.

As Harper swayed, grinning, Tyr saw the watcher compress his lips and narrow his eyes in satisfaction. Obviously, he had targeted the boy for something. Possibly drugged him? Or maybe Harper was just drunk. Tyr sneered momentarily.

Regardless, he couldn't let some punk from a half-throne Drift damage *his* engineer. The scoundrel was obviously up to no good, so it was up to Tyr to retrieve his (although he would never admit it aloud) friend.

Tyr walked forward purposefully. His sudden motion startled the watcher, he noticed peripherally, who ducked guiltily back inside the nightclub. Contempt flitted momentarily across the Nietzschean's thoughts, and then he was seizing Harper by the scruff of the neck.

"Tyr!" the inebriated genius squeaked in surprise. "Buddy. Fancy seeing you here," he added, as Tyr hustled him away from the almost-scene-of-a-crime.

"Do you have any idea what kind of trouble you were nearly in, boy?" the ex-mercenary demanded, tightening his grip on the little man's collar.

"Trouble?" Harper shot back in disbelief. "I was having a good time," he huffed indignantly. "But I wasn't doin' anything," he added defensively. "I was makin' nice an' evr'thing."

Tyr noticed that Harper's speech was becoming slurred, and he was stumbling. This uncharacteristic clumsiness was slightly suspicious; Harper usually confined himself to beer, and never had this kind of difficulty with the brew. What had he been consuming?

"This guy even bought me a drink," Harper continued, answering the unspoken question. "Something special," he informed his large companion petulantly, balking to a halt so he could glare up at Tyr.

"What special?" Tyr crossed his arms and glared at the engineer.

"Sounded something like iggaleebuff."

"Eaglabuef?"

"Yeah, that's it. Have you had any before?"

Oh, no. Tyr took immediate action. He scooped Harper up, slung him over his shoulder, and quickly ducked into the room-rent establishment he had seen earlier, conveniently near.

"Whoop," said Seamus. "What the hell just happened?"

He didn't sound distressed, just confused.

"Quiet, boy," Tyr grumbled. *His survival skills are better than that,* the large man mused. Harper should have thrown a fit; even his friends weren't allowed to manhandle him like this. *Another indication that he's drugged.*

Tyr approached the clerk's desk, fished the appropriate amount of currency out, and rented a room. The clerk surely thought he was taking a catamite to bed, but Tyr wasn't concerned; it meant nothing what that kludge thought of him.

Once the door locked securely behind them, Tyr set his companion down.

"Want to 'splain to me wha's goin' on?" Harper demanded. He was starting to look angry, and he seemed steadier on his feet.

*He's going into stage two,* Tyr noted. *He's about to become a handful.*

"Eaglabuef is a drug, boy," Tyr informed him, sounding annoyed but feeling concerned. "Not a mere intoxicant."

"What kind of drug?" the blonde demanded. "Wa's it do?"

Harper didn't sound worried. He should have sounded worried.

"It makes you feral," Tyr stated.

Harper blinked. Then: "What the hell are you talkin' about, Tyr?!"

The little man actually advanced on him --him!-- in a threatening stance. Angry; fists balled up; face going a little red...

*Yep, he's on eaglabuef, all right.*

"The symptoms will manifest as either fighting or fucking," Tyr stated plainly. "I'm going to keep you here and out of trouble until it wears off. That should be in an hour or two."

"Yeah. Yeah, I do think I'm gonna kick your ass!" Harper practically shouted. The small man squared off against him, in striking range, standing aggressively.

*Don't laugh at him,* Tyr cautioned himself, schooling his features into complete neutrality. *You'll only make it worse.*

"I'm not going to fight with you," Tyr told him solemnly.

"Oh, yes you are!" Harper yelled in his face. "You arrogant, self-important..."

Tyr tuned out his companion's tirade. The little man would go on for a while, giving him time to think.

He suddenly felt tired of having to control everything, of having to be in control all the time. Responsibility weighed on him periodically. He always got over it; and he certainly would hate to not be in control of himself and his surroundings on a permanent basis. But it would be nice if he could safely let somebody else be in charge for a while, on occasion.

Harper was still ranting and spitting; now poking him in the chest with a belligerent finger as he continued his harangue.

Tyr sighed. He *really* didn't want to hold the hyperactive little monkey down for two straight hours. Then a thought occurred to him: Why not handle two situations at once?

He detoured around the cussing engineer and walked over to the bed, where he began stripping.

"Hey!" Harper exclaimed, turning to follow. "I'm not..." He shut up in confusion when he saw what Tyr was doing. "Uuuhhh, huh?" He stood staring as his erstwhile opponent nonchalantly continued to disrobe. "You want to fight naked?"

"I don't want to fight at all," Tyr replied calmly. "I've decided we should channel your energies into sex instead."

"What!" Harper uttered explosively. "Oh, no! You don't get to fuck me just 'cause you wanna shut me up! No way!"

"The other way around, Little Professor," the big man informed him. Naked, Tyr moved to the center of the mattress, then opened his arms expansively as he settled, propped against the wall, draping artfully. "I am yours to do with as you will. What do you want of me?"

Harper's eyes nearly bugged out of his head as he ogled the brown-skinned man. His gaze roamed, taking in the powerful physique, the smooth planes and angles of masculine curves, the large, strong hands, the hefty, uncut cock resting against the muscular thigh, the dark disks of nipples just begging to be sucked, the full, lush lips... So tempting; inviting...

Suddenly, Harper exploded into motion, tugging his clothes off like a whirlwind.

Again, Tyr had to refrain from chuckling. *Too easy,* he mused smugly, well aware of his considerable charms. Then again, 'Harper' and 'easy' *were* essentially synonymous.

Since the runt was not a challenger for alpha status, it was safe to let him do as he pleased. Complicity should easily keep Harper pacified. Distracted. Entertained.

Tyr relaxed his self-possession and gave up control to the little engineer.

Harper crawled over him, knelt straddling the big Nietzschean's groin, tangled his fingers in Tyr's braids and pressed a demanding kiss on his lips.

Harper tugged on his hair, holding fast, as he nibbled, nipped, tugged, licked and sucked Tyr's mouth. His pelvis rocked back and forth as he devoured the big man's lips and tongue, stroking his cock, balls and muscular ass across Tyr's genitals, creating an exciting friction.

As the determined little blonde clutched, mouthed and fondled him all over, Tyr found himself intensely aroused. Who knew the boy would turn out to be such a good lover? He increased his efforts at reciprocation.

"Hey," Harper said several minutes later, "I want something." He leaned back and sat on the mattress as Tyr watched him steadily, waiting for the request. "Suck me," he demanded, spreading his knees.

Tyr obligingly curled forward and settled onto his belly. He took the straining, leaking cock into his mouth, inching his lips softly down the shaft. He licked and sucked as he drew upward, then tightened the suction on the way back down. His lips, nose and chin lay nestled in Harper's coarse pubic hair for two breaths, then he up-stroked again, coating the smooth shaft with his saliva. A few to-mid-shaft bobs, some nibbling on the spongy head, a quick tongue-flick across the slit, then Tyr plunged all the way down again, breathing in the scent of Harper's musk while he held the leaking tip in his throat. Then he swallowed, using his throat muscles to massage his partner's dick.

Harper almost lost it. But he had other plans for the big mercenary. He pulled back so quickly that he almost fell off the end of the bed. Harper panted, shaking slightly with the effects of his lover's ministrations, and got himself somewhat back under control. Then he pointed to the mattress as he ordered, "Hands and knees!"

Tyr obligingly rolled over. His own body was responding quite pleasantly to this encounter, to the smell of sex, to Harper's moans. He shivered deliciously when his friend's calloused hands gripped his asscheeks.

Harper kissed, nibbled and sucked all over his lower back, thighs and ass. Then he spread the chocolate cheeks and began licking his way to the now-exposed pucker. He laved his slick tongue across Tyr's perineum, balls, the base of Tyr's cock. He nuzzled into the curly pubes and sucked the delicate skin at the base of the throbbing shaft. Then the soft spot behind Tyr's balls was given a wide, wet, warm sweep of Harper's talented tongue, sending shivers cascading through the big man's body.

Harper continued licking, his tongue-strokes swiftly gaining speed and strength, sliding his tongue all over the taut skin, lapping at the tightening scrotum, rolling the testicles in his mouth. Harper teased Tyr's hole with his tongue, and the Nietzschean pushed back wantonly against it, then the young engineer started to tongue-fuck him. In and out. In and out. Tyr groaned, abandoned to the erotic sensations.

Eventually, mind always working the possibilities, Tyr reached out to the nightstand drawer. His hunch was correct; his fingers curled around a small tube of lubricant. Drawing it out, he tossed it over his shoulder to Harper.

Taking the hint, Harper popped the top and squirted lube onto his fingers and his partner's puckered opening.

Tyr jerked in erotic bliss as the young engineer pushed his strong index finger up to the first knuckle in his tight opening. His whole body burned with desire as Harper pushed the digit in even further.

Harper groaned in excitement as he slipped his finger into the Kodiak's ass all the way, watching the big man wriggle. He twisted inside his partner, enjoying the unbelievable tightness of his companion's sphincter.

Tyr moaned and writhed, the appendage inside him burning sweetly. The ex-mercenary sucked in a sharp breath when his friend inserted another finger next to the first and began to twist both digits deep into his anus.

A stab of hot ecstasy shot through Tyr's prick as Harper's fingers found his prostate and began to rub. A gush of warm pre-come spurted from the head of his rigid member as Harper began inserting a third finger into his aching entrance.

Over and over, the Andromeda's engineer finger-fucked his tingling orifice, then suddenly the digits withdrew. Tyr fought down his frustration over the loss of stimulation. He wanted Harper to keep those fingers in his ass! But his disappointment quickly lifted as Harper shifted around into a new position, on his knees, between Tyr's spread ones. Then Tyr felt the hot nudge of the other man's excited member push between his cheeks. 

*Oh, yeah!* Tyr thought, as the slippery cock-head pushed inexorably between his asscheeks and rested against his eager opening. Tyr flexed his glutes, squirming.

The tip of Harper's dick breached the tight ring of muscle and began sliding in. Tyr burned with ecstasy as Harper sank slowly inside him. Still, his sex-fogged brain had a flicker of incredulity at what he was doing with the Little Professor. Here he was, in a sleazy motel room, on his belly with Harper's rock-hard cock plowing into his ass. Unbelievable. Then thought fled as Harper, gently but without hesitation, sank his prick into his ass to the root.

"Ooohhh," Harper moaned. He could feel the heat of Tyr's beautiful, muscular ass against his balls, as his heavy sac came to rest on the big man's buttocks.

"Move, boy!" Tyr demanded in passionate desperation.

Tyr's back-door gripped his tool like a hot vise. Harper slipped an arm under Tyr's waist, gripped the big Kodiak's hard-on, and began slowly jacking the Nietzschean off while he thrust his cock back and forth in his partner's tight ass.

The burning desire in Tyr's sphincter began to intensify as Harper's turgid tool stretched the muscle wide again and again, grunting and moaning as his body rocked with the ancient rhythm. The hand around his prick felt fantastic, rubbing his aching meat with sure, firm strokes. He began pushing back, welcoming Harper's thrusting member, sliding his own hard-on in the other man's jacking hand.

"Harder!" he grunted.

Uncooperatively, Harper pulled his cock back until only the head remained inside Tyr's tight ass as he rubbed his calloused fingertip over and over on the mass of supersensitive nerves just behind the base of the writhing Nietzschean's dripping dick-head, making his partner squirm.

Tyr's balls felt like they were filled with lead--hot, heavy, aching. His twitching meat in the engineer's grip throbbed and burned for release. Over and over, Harper rubbed his cock, stopping when he felt Tyr getting to the edge of shooting. Teasingly, he would push his dick a fraction further into the eager hole, then pull back.

Tyr was going insane --he had to come; he had to come!

"I want it! Harper, fuck me!" the dark-skinned man growled.

Instantly, the little blonde rammed his meat to the hilt in Tyr's tight channel, jerking wildly at his partner's slippery, hard cock, slamming his own engorged dick again and again into his bucking companion. Suddenly, Harper felt it begin. He buried his tool in that tight asshole, grinding his hips against Tyr's butt-cheeks. With a guttural groan, he unloaded spurt after spurt of boiling come into his lover.

A final tidal wave washed over Tyr as, crying out, he felt his own hot semen pump out.

"AAAHHH!" he cried out, shooting hot, sticky jets into Harper's tight grip, practically sobbing with the ecstasy of release.

The two collapsed bonelessly, rubbery muscles refusing to support them any longer. Sweaty and panting, they settled side-by-side.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Harper woke up disoriented. "What happened?" he asked no one in particular, looking blearily around the Maru's crew quarters. "Ugh! I feel like road-kill."

Tyr smirked from the other bunk. "You seem to have had quite an adventure, Little Professor."

The hung-over engineer turned his head and squinted. Tyr displayed a relaxed pose: arms folded across his massive chest, at ease and perfectly in control.

"What did I do?" Harper demanded, voice edging toward alarm.

"Well, from the smell of it..." Tyr sniffed the air for effect. "I'd say that you and some.." Again a sniff, scenting more deeply. "...gentleman.. had yourselves a good time."

"Oh, man!" Harper groaned, reddening in embarrassment. He covered his face with both hands, blocking out the Nietzschean's smirk. 

*I'm glad one of eaglabuef's after-effects is short-term memory loss,* Tyr thought. *I'd have to kill the Little Professor if he went around telling everyone he'd topped me.*



Andromeda: Better Than A Backrub



by VodouBlue and Sonja Black

Dylan wasn't limping quite so badly by the time he reached his room. 'Uhg!' he thought. 'No more sparring with Tyr right after he suffers a big disappointment.'

He sprawled facedown on his bed as Harper followed him in, chattering away about his clever repairs to the slipstream drive. Dylan groaned --mostly for effect-- and started peeling his clothes off without getting up or turning over. By the time he was down to his underwear...

"Hey! That's my job!" Harper mock-scolded, grabbing the waistband and peeling Dylan's last garment away from his lanky body. The Engineer tossed the briefs carelessly away, and then tackled his own clothing.

As Harper stripped, he stared at the long, clean lines of his lover's prone form --the lean, well-defined muscles, the smooth, tanned skin, the inviting swell of muscular ass...

The lights went out, then Dylan felt his younger lover climb onto the bed behind him.

"Hope you brought more lube," he mumbled into the bedspread, recalling that they had used it all up last time.

"Always prepared; that's me!" Harper retorted. "Your BoyScoutness is rubbing off on me."

He knelt between Dylan's spread knees as he opened the container and squeezed some of the cool gel onto his palm, then replaced the lid and tossed the tube onto the nightstand. He rubbed his slightly-calloused hands together, warming the lube a little and coating his palms and fingers. Then he reached for his throbbing erection with one hand as he began working the fingers of the other between Dylan's flexing cheeks.

Dylan tilted his hips, giving better access, and moaned a little. Harper's hands matched rhythm as he simultaneously stroked his own cock and the length of his lover's cleft, coating them both with the slippery substance. He worked a well-greased finger into Dylan's opening as he continued tugging on his own member. The feisty Engineer pressed his finger in with steady pressure as Dylan groaned deep in his chest and eased himself back, furthering the penetration.

The young genius moved to cover his prone lover, probing for the tighter-than-tight opening as he pressed his needy body against his Captain's. Harper took a warm nibble at Dylan's neck as his arms encircled the taller man's shoulders and he rested his full weight on him.

"Unh, fuck me now!" Dylan groaned, tilting his hips more and spreading his knees farther apart.

Harper enthusiastically obliged. He found Dylan's hole with little difficulty and then eagerly pushed his tip into the tight opening. Both men groaned.

Harper had to pause for a minute, as the mind-blowing feel of the incredibly close ring gripped his sensitive cockhead and squeezed. For an instant, he felt as if all the sensation in his body were focused on that one spot. Then he became aware of Dylan's lean, well-muscled frame pinned beneath him.

Dylan, meanwhile, felt the most erotic surrender as his lover pinned him down and forced his tip into his hole, stretching him open and starting that sweet burn inside him. He was momentarily paralyzed, as his whole attention focused on the intense sensation of being penetrated. When his mind stopped reeling, he almost screamed with wanting to be stretched open and filled.

Dylan pushed his ass back. They both moaned in ecstasy as Harper pushed forward a little and his entire cockhead slid inside. Harper clutched his lover's shoulders, then he hunched his hips, driving himself in farther, and then he began to buck hard and fast.

"Oh, God, yes!" Dylan whispered, gasping out the words. His fists knotted into the sheets and he started thrusting his hips back as hard as he could. The pumping cock buried in his ass was hitting that deep place within, sending overpowering waves of erotic fulfillment scorching through his body. His penis pulsed and grew impossibly hard, trapped beneath him and pressed to the mattress. The friction of the sheets on his member increased the stimulation and he almost came.

Through the haze of mind-blowing stimulus, he felt Harper's sweating body tense, and then the dick in his ass gave a twitch. Then it released its load, flooding his insides with the warm fluid.

"Aaahhh!" Harper let out an inarticulate cry of abandon as he felt his balls tighten and his cock jump as he climaxed inside the warm cavern of his lover's body. He gripped Dylan's shoulders harder as he slammed his hips forward frantically, instinctively pumping his ejaculation as deep as he could.

After some breath-catching and a chance to come down a little from the euphoric high, Harper withdrew and lay down next to his bedmate, rolling onto his side.

"Oohh, that was amazing," the little blonde proclaimed, still panting from his exertions.

Once he caught his breath, Dylan grabbed up the lube and squirted some onto his hand, then he rolled onto his side, spooning his shorter lover. He reached down between them and coated Harper's cleft with lube, working a long, pumping finger inside him. Harper's body accepted the pleasurable invasion easily, and he moaned as the probing digit stroked his hot spot.

Dylan was impatient for satisfaction. He grasped his swollen cock and gave the head a few firm squeezes, then placed the pre-come oozing tip to Harper's back door. As soon as he made contact with the clenching band, he pushed in steadily. He wrapped his arm around Harper's chest and moaned with pure bliss as his cockhead was hugged tightly.

Once he had worked most of his shaft inside, he divided his attention, so that the overwhelming grip of his Engineer's tight-as-a-virgin ass wouldn't make him shoot too soon. His hand slid up his lover's clenching abs, and his strong fingers sought out and teased the tiny, rock-hard nipples. Then he gave one a twist. Harper moaned and his whole body shuddered under the electrifying onslaught. Dylan bit at his shoulder, then sent his hand questing downward for his partner's member. He wasn't surprised when his fingers closed over a burgeoning erection.

Dylan ran his hand all over the smooth, warm shaft and heavy balls, then he wrapped his fist around the blood-engorged organ and began to tug.

"Unh, unh, Dylan..." Harper gasped, as the dual stimulation of a dick in his ass and a firm hand yanking on his cock threatened to overwhelm his senses.

Dylan panted, shoving his cock in harder. "I want you to come with me."

Dylan clamped his mouth onto the join of Harper's neck and shoulder, and picked up the pace. He slid his bent knee over Harper's thigh, then humped into him with deep, penetrating thrusts.

The thick pole sliding in and out relentlessly, stretching his ring, stroking his prostate, combined with Dylan's strong hand jerking him off, sent Harper into sensory overload. He shouted as the come erupted from his balls, and he felt his sphincter clamp convulsively on the hard-pumping rod within him. That was all Dylan could stand. He howled along with his lover as he slammed into his ass frantically and released his load.

In the aftermath of their powerful climaxes, the two men remained embraced as they relaxed and drifted toward unconsciousness.

"Thanks, Seamus," Dylan said sleepily. "That was better than a backrub."

End



Andromeda



As though on cue, I hear a tiny rap upon the door, and find a young boy from the village with a basket in his grasp. It is filled with supper and a few staples to see us through until tomorrow night. Wine, fruit, cheese and smoked meat lies inside, along with a large, crusty loaf. We will eat heartily this night.

Immediately we set about to break our fast, tearing into the fresh bread with gusto, nibbling at its accompaniments and washing the lot down with the dry, red wine that is typical of this region.

Then we are done, and she awaits my direction.

I stand from the table and move till I'm facing her, taking her hand in mine she rises before me. I lead her to the post in the center of the room, facing the fire. 

By now the sun has set and aside from the firelight the room is in shadows. She watches me as my fingers move to the buttons of her blouse, one by one opening and exposing the alabaster skin beneath. I slide the blouse from her shoulders and it falls to the floor. 

She looks at me with a mixture of fear and curiosity, as though no man has ever undressed her before. I work the skirt over her full hips and then the silken panties. She lifts one foot, then the other and is now before me, exposed and incredibly 

beautiful. I slide my fingertips along her sides, over her ribs, across her abdomen, softly rounded and so tender to the touch. 

I cross to my bag and fetch two long strips of silk, then return to take her hands in mine. I hold them in front of her and begin wrapping her wrists with one of the silken strips, three times around and then between her palms so that she might grasp it. 


I then hoist her arms over her head and tie the free end to one of the hooks attached to the beam. Her jut gloriously and my breath catches at the site of her, proud and defiant and yet helpless. 

Bound. 

I move to the hearth and retrieve a basin of water, now warm, as well as a bar of handmade soap and a small bristle brush. The soap is made from local ingredients, a concoction known to the locals since time immemorial. It contains seaweed which gives it the scent of the ocean. 

I take a small cup, fill it with warm water and pour it over her head, wetting her hair, taking care to keep the water from running into her eyes. I work the soap into a lather and wash her long red curls, straightening them and then rinsing it with water from the cup. 

I wet down her arms and run the soap over her skin, the suds forming and running along her outstretched arms. Then, taking the brush in hand I begin to scrub her. I know she is clean already, but somehow this bath seems like a cleansing, a purification suitable for a sacrifice. 

I scrub vigorously, wanting to leave her flesh red and 

tingling. I run the brush over her shoulders, across her chest and over her breasts. Her breath catches in her throat and she squirms against her bonds. 

"Shhhhhhhh" I whisper, running the bristles

across the sides of her breasts, the tender underside, over her ribs, her stomach and the graceful curve of her hip. 

The water is warm as it flows over her, but the breeze blowing 

through the open windows contains a chill, and

her nipples are responding. My soapy fingers knead her and I pull slightly on them, bringing them to full attention.

Then, rinsing the brush in the basin, I once more run the soap over her flesh, over the swell of her full hips, over her powerful thighs, her graceful legs, her firm calves and over her feet.

Standing before her, I grasp my beautiful captive by the 

waist and kiss her hard on the lips. With sudden force I spin her around and force my hand between her shoulders, pressing her against the wooden post. 

It is then I take the bar of soap in my hands, covering her rounded ass with creamy lather, using my hand to spread it within the cleft of her buttocks and the secret entrance it hides. 

"Open your legs" I direct, speaking quietly, and she

responds without hesitation. Under my direction the slippery bar slides along her opening, running lengthways along her channel until she whimpers with need. 

I then set the bar aside and roughly scrub her thatch of pubic hair, my fingers pressing back the hood of her clitoris, cleaning the valleys of her sex and then thrusting two fingers roughly inside. Twisting and turning I try her, the soap stinging her delicate channel until, as quickly as I entered I withdraw.

I did not know that she would allow me to go this

far without a word. Indeed I never intended to, but once there I could not stop. 

I fill the cup now with clean water and begin to rinse her trembling form, watching the water wash away her foamy agitation onto the stone floor. 

She stands before me glistening. Beautiful. I watch as the water evaporates on her skin from the heat of the fire, and tiny

goose pimples form on her body. Her flesh is red and glowing from the brush and I imagine I can see the skin itself breathing in slow sighs before me. 

Her nipples are as firm and hard as little pebbles, and I cannot resist taking one in my hand and give it a firm pinch as she hisses in pain, all the while staring wordlessly at me. She arches her back and whimpers her discomfort. I answer

her unspoken question, "Because this is the way it has to be. No questions. While you are behind this door you are mine. And this is my way."

I rake my nails down her forearms, over her wrists, the inside of her arms and armpits. They dig in a bit deeper as they cross over her breasts, drawing red welts across her skin. I kiss her again and roughly grasp her sex, pulling at her curls and covering her vulva with my hand. My middle finger slips demandingly inside, mashing her clitoris with the heel of my hand. 

My lips softly graze her neck, along her collar bone, over the swell of her breasts until then she feels my bite, hard and savage in the tender flesh. Again she whimpers, but yet the hardened bud swells between my teeth. 

I slide a second digit inside, made easy by her wetness. My fingers spread inside of her and she begins to move against them, urging me onward.

I begin to stretch her nipple with my teeth and she squirms in pain until it finally slips free. I repeat this again and again with both breasts, my fingers continuing to work her, pressing forcefully into her abdomen, searching for and finding the spot inside her that when pressed makes her flow in uncontrolled abandonment. 

I fall to my knees before her and pull my fingers from inside. 

Roughly I pull her legs further apart and press my face against her sex. I inhale her excitement, the smell of her cunt, rich and fragrant, betraying her response, her pleasure. 

Roughly I grasp her pubic hair and she gasps in surprise. Then, spreading her lips, I suck her clitoris into my mouth, biting and abrading as my fingers once more fill her oozing channel. 

She shakes as I insert yet a third finger, rotating my hand within her, probing her intimate domain with outstretched hand. I fill her, I stretch her vulnerable flesh, all three fingers 

spreading inside her in different directions, the walls of her cunt convulsing around them. 

My teeth ravage her clit once again, pulling harder until I 

feel her shudder to a climax, her pussy swollen, engorged and dripping over her freshly scrubbed flesh.

Then, as quickly as I began it is over. I pull my hand and mouth from her, get up and walk away, leaving her to catch her breath. 

I take my place in front in of her, grasping my pencil and sketch pad, and I begin to draw. My eyes feast on her, so very beautiful. I memorize her, my hands forming her image on the pad before me. Even from this distance I can smell her sex, her lips still flushed with red, still puffy and remembering me.

I’m sure it feels like an eternity, for her arms sag heavily and she begins to squirm. I order her to be still, not in a shout, more like a whisper. I refuse to lose control, I refuse to become angry with her. I have paid for her time, I own her for the

next two days, and she will do what I wish. 

I am strong enough to overpower her if I need to, but I can tell that I won't have to resort to that. Whatever force I use, whatever pain she feels will be because she wants it….and what she wants I will give her, perhaps more than she craved.

Still she squirms, and though I know her arms must be tired, I can't help but feel that she’s testing me, to see what awaits her. 

I rise to the challenge, and with sigh I stand and close the distance between us. Then, leaning in close I whisper in her ear "I told you to be still and yet you do not listen."

She hears me fumbling with my belt and her eyes widen. I open the clasp, the sound of leather on cloth whispering in the room as I slide it from the loops. I pause, weighing my options, her breath escaping in shallow gasps as she watches me wrap the belt around my fist, until only a foot remains free. 

In a flash my arm rises in the darkness and the belt comes descends, a blur which contacts her pale flesh just above her left breast. 

Again I swing and this time it falls between them, the tip biting into the fragile shell of her right, immediately raising a welt.

The next stroke catches the ribs on the right side of her body, then the left. Tears flow from her eyes as the blows

rain down upon her. Then, once again I lean in close and the onslaught stops.

"I know what you want, little one. I know where you

want to feel the sting" And so, as my words are still warm in her ear she feels the bite of the leather across her abdomen. Again and again it falls, creeping closer and closer to the place where she craves it the most. 

Once more I whisper "Is this what you want Elise? Say ‘yes’…tell me…"

Through her tears she tries to speak, and finally she manages to choke out the word. "Yes." 

Almost as soon as the word leaves her lips she feels the band of leather wrap around her mound, the tip striking between her swollen lips. Again and again it falls, stinging her clitoris, whipping the wetness that is now her cunt. 

My voice echoes in her ear though now the words must seem garbled and disjoint, indistinguishable. The only consciousness I have left her is centered on her pussy, throbbing and aching and still it goes on. I watch her breathing, the way she twists and turns and I can tell by her movements that she is coming even before the scream escapes her lips.

When at last I see her slump against the pole I stop. I kiss her open mouth, my tongue forcing its way deep inside, keeping her from catching her breath. My hand finds her nipple and I twist it cruelly before circling around to other venues. 

She senses me behind her, and then feels another band of silk

wrapping about her throat. I wrap it twice, the fabric soft

against her skin, then around the post until I tie it to the hook which holds her wrists firmly in place.

I then return to her more vulnerable side, facing her. Her eyes watch me as I open my pants and let them fall to the floor. My cock stands hard, erect as I enter her “space”. 

"Open your legs." I demand brusquely.

Immediately she parts her legs as wide as she can and I move between her thighs. My organ grazes the lips of her cunt, wallowing in the wetness it finds, working her clitoris with its spongy head. My hands reach for her legs and I lift her off of her feet, then wrapping them around my waist I slide inside of her, like moving into melted butter, until our pubic bones meet. 

I pin her against the post, penetrating slowly, withdrawing from her with deceptive ease then thrusting back inside with a

force that slams her against the beam. 

My hands cup her buttocks and I lift her higher, her legs curling tightly around me. With deliberation I step away, pulling her with me and the silk around her neck begins to tighten. Mutely I watch, her eyes widening in shock as it pulls 

taught and blocks her flow of air. Fear does that to a person. Fear takes her breath and leaves her heart pounding in her ears. 

She has barely time to draw a second to breathe before I pull her back on my cock, impaling her again and again on my length. Urgently, she thrashes and twists at her bonds, fighting both for breath and satisfaction.

She’s light as a feather and so very beautiful. I wish I could just take her to the bed and make tender love to her, but right now she wants a savage, and so a savage is what she'll have. 

Finally, my nails digging into her tender flesh, she jerks wildly and screams her release, her sex overflowing, making wet, sucking sounds which fill the room. I feel her go limp and let her legs fall to the floor. Then, reaching up I release the silken bands from the hook and she slides downward along the beam to the floor below. 

She looks up at me with helpless eyes as I step forward and grasp her hair in my hands, twisting it and pulling her closer to me. Then, pressing my dripping cock to her lips, she guides my shaft deep inside of her until she can take no more. 

Once again I begin to move, shallowly at first then following with long strokes until her head is pressed against the wooden beam. Deeper and deeper I lunge until she can't escape from it and has no choice but to open her throat and allow me to plunder within.

Then, in thick, wet profusion I climax, warm jets pouring into her mouth as she fights to swallow, fights for air… and still I fuck her. At last the flow subsides, but my cock maintains its rigidity and I know I'm not finished. The thought of forcing the tender portal of her ass passes fleetingly through my mind, but my God her mouth feels so good, her puckered lips so very beautiful. And so I resume my attack, thrusting again and again until she watches me throw back my head for a second time and her mouth is filled with my warm, salty cum.

Finally, I pull away from her and she grasps me, sucking and

licking until my organ is glistening with saliva. It is then that I realize I haven’t taken her at all, but quite the contrary. Instead she has taken me, taken all that I could give her. I am hers, shackled by bonds of passion and longing. In her vulnerability, she has conquered me.

I help her to her feet and enfold her in my trembling arms. Her lips are now bruised, tasting of me, and I want to kiss away all that has passed between us and start anew. Tenderly I carry her to the bed, her arms wrapped tightly about my neck, her body snuggling securely against my own. I press her close, safe and warm, as if to ward off all the evils that men have brought into her life. The warm blanket nestles snugly about our bodies, a nest for new beginnings, and looking into each other's eyes we share a moment of intimacy before the curtain of sleep descends.

----------------------------------------------

Chapter 5: Elise- Intimate Encounter revisited

I am Andromeda, and the rock upon which I am to meet my fate lies before me.

I wonder, as we descend onto the rocky ledge, with its fragile cottage perched precariously on the edge, had I arrived here with Perseus…or the beast?

The dank chill from the uneasy sea penetrates me, and I shiver. It is then his hand encloses mine, a gesture I had not expected, nor perhaps even wanted, but yet it lends some warmth to my heart.

He is a strange duck, the artist who sits beside me on the rolling wooden seat of that rumbling carriage, and I know not what to make of him. He has left me to my own devices all this long day, and yet he then extends himself to assure my comfort. There is more to be seen here, I suspect, perhaps more than I care to know.

The cottage is bathed in shadows as we enter, the last light of a dying day. Pensively, I gather my wits about me, scanning the Spartan core of that ancient place as Etienne secures our belongings and makes ready the fire for our sparse comfort.

I cross then to hang my clothing in a crude wardrobe tucked into the very corner of the room, and to these I began to add my Master’s. He pauses to watch. Have I displeased him? Perhaps this small display of domesticity is inappropriate. I have much to learn.

Finally, foreplay at rest, we settle ourselves before the fire to fill our bellies and discuss what is to be expected of me. The rules are simple. I am to be Andromeda, both in body and soul. My fears would be hers, and my flesh her own. By day I will be expected to pose until my Master gives me leave to cease, and by night I will summon her spirit, chained to the solitary pillar that supports this hovel, so that we might become one upon the canvas, a single and inseparable entity.

I look about me then, and see the cold stone walls and strong hooks upon which the fishing nets had been stretched and woven so long ago. They look cruel now, empty of the hand-knotted webs that were the trademarks of those simple yet vibrant people. Civilization is far from this place, only the meager vestiges remain…those, and the whispering memories of bygone times.

And yet they fill the room, I think to myself. Somewhere within the gloom of these walls lies the aura of lives that had once filled this space with love and laughter, ultimately surviving the barren eons between. I will draw upon that to keep me sane, I think. I will find in Andromeda’s heart the strength to define myself in this place. I will use her as she is to use me, and within her timeless spirit I will find myself a place.

“Now we will begin,” he murmurs at last, his stern and solemn directives concluded. Then, leading me toward the center of the room, he positions my body so that the glow of the fire casts both warmth and illumination on the composition. He pauses to consider, then with sure and steady fingers he begins to loosen the tiny brass buttons that guard my modesty.

How many times have I felt the touch of one such as he, I wonder…how many? And yet as his warm fingers slip beneath my fine linen, I shiver. Never, I think, never like this.

Slowly he strips the remnants of clothing from my body, caressing my pale flesh as he bares me, his eyes ablaze with the reflection of his thoughts. It is then that the dire weight of our isolation hits me full force. What is to become of me next? What strange emanation is at work in this place? What hand guides the one that touches me?

I watch wide-eyed as my Master crosses to his satchel and removes two thin but sturdy-looking strips of fabric. My knees begin to weaken. Does he notice? Does he care? 

Silently, he presses me against the beam, then proceeds to bind my hands before me. I cringe inwardly. This was a bad choice, very bad, and I now wonder if I shall be alive in the morning to rue my lack of discretion.

Sternly, he tests my bonds, then stretching my hands above my head, he attaches them to the uppermost hook, causing all but my tip-toes to pull taut and vulnerable before him.

Once more he explores my ashen form, his fingers curious and demanding, then retrieves a basin of warm water from the hearth and begins to abrade my flesh with something which smells of the sea around us. 

The brush he uses to perform this ritual is stiff and unyielding, and in no time my breasts are red from its abuse, my nipples hard and yearning. He toys with them, turning and teasing until they are full and dark, swollen with a need I cannot identify. My lips part, and once again my inner demon rises within me. A soft moan escapes, and my bonds begin to tighten. I am weak…so weak.

My Master is thorough in his task, and as he scans his pink and profuse handiwork I wonder if he will finish the job he has started. Will he now deliver me from myself? Will he consummate that which he has so surely begun?

Without preamble he parts my legs and opens me brusquely, his fingers touching places that leave me breathless and yearning. Then, in a single lunge he forces his soapy fingers deep into my belly and drives me beyond the veil. I whimper, hunger rising between my thighs, the heat of his touch more than I can bear.




Andromeda



But, as quickly as it began, he withdraws. Is he finished? Will my release slip from my trembling grasp? But no, for now his ministrations escalate, his touch roughening as it covers me, his teeth tormenting my tender flesh. Pinching and biting he takes what he will, my wet and desperate response pooling between my thighs. 

Then, parting my flushed and slippery petals, he presses his lips within. He is everywhere, everything, and as he thrusts his surging fingers deep into my weeping channel I whimper. I gasp, my deliverance upon me, and gushing I cover both my Master and I in my flowing rejoinder.

I am exhausted, my body twitching with unspent adrenalin as I sag against my bonds. My Master leaves me then, and taking up his sketch pad he begins to capture the essence of what he has wrought. Long moments pass, the strain on both my arms and composure growing as time takes its toll. 

I test my bonds, an act that flies in the face of his whispered directives. Finally, he rises, and as though to discipline one beyond his authority, he slips the second strip of cloth about my throat and secures that too on the hook above.

He then circles to the fore, and I watch with racing pulse as he fumbles with his belt buckle. I squirm once more, this time in panic, but my struggles are for naught. I am bound. I am helpless, but yet I crave what is to come.

My eyes close, frozen in place, until finally I hear the hiss of leather against fabric and realize what is to happen. Softly the instrument of my chastisement sings through the air, laying great, livid pathways across my breasts and belly. I should pull away, I think, I should fight against this torment. 

But I don’t.

Instead the snake once again coils to undo me, the tension rises within…and I want more. I want him to…

Wet and desperate my eyes seek his own, and I know that he understands what I need.

“Say yes,” he demands, forcing me to abet my own downfall…and I do. Immediately I feel the bite of leather against my soft and weeping femininity, the irresistible sting of the belt as it draws the last vestige of reserve from my quivering womb.

I scream! Over and over I wail my urgency into the flame-kissed room until finally my strength fails and I slump against the beam in ruin. In a frenzy he tears the clothing from his body. Exposing his hard torso and jutting sex in the dim light. 

Once more he forces my limbs apart, probing within my slit with his massive knob until I beg for more. It is then he impales me, wedging his thick manhood deep inside of me until he challenges the very limits of my being. Brutally he lunges, so deep…so deep, until I feel I shall surely be rendered asunder with the ferocity of his invasion.

I shudder, I moan. If he finishes me now, I think, it will be a glorious end. To complete one’s existence at it’s very pinnacle… could there be anything more sublime?

Again I gush about him, all resistance lost, covering us both with my creamy effluent. All that I am is his, and he smiles in the knowledge of his power. I am putty before him, clay to be molded as he chooses. He is the creator, and I but the product of his whim.

He lowers me now from the hook, and pressing me to my knees he wedges my lips apart and I taste our mingled essence upon my tongue. Then, holding me, fingers knotted into my auburn locks, he plunges his thick appendage until there is nothing left untouched. I gag and try to pull away, but still he perseveres until I eagerly accept his offering deep inside my throat, another conquest aborning.

He thrusts, he pummels, his sex growing harder and more unwieldy with each lunge. Then, just as I fear I can continue no longer, he floods my being with his seed, filling my mouth until it flows from the corners of my lips and drips upon my naked breasts.

Finally he releases my hair, his manhood sated at last, and I grovel before him, licking our liqueur from his softening tool. It is then that he surprises me the most, for in the dénouement of his lust he is gentle, caring as he presses me to him and softly carries me to his bed.

In this man I have found a hive of contradictions, warring passions that stir my soul. Silently I watch him as he sleeps, his face at peace in the afterglow of intimacy. I am to be his Andromeda, but I wonder in the stillness of the night, if it is not he himself that is truly chained to a rock of his own making.

Perhaps when all is said and done, I will be his Perseus instead…or his Serpent. I smile at the irony, and curl against his chest, inhaling his essence as I fall into a deep and restful sleep.

Only tomorrow will tell…

-------------------------------------------------

Chapter 6: Elise- The Day After



Morning rises like a whisper in the east, a hushed intrusion into the silence we share. Had last night really happened, I wonder, watching his gentle composure as he sleeps. Can such a beast rage in such a peaceful breast?

My body, as one might expect, bears the disquiet of his passage the night before, and I long for a hot tub to ease the remnants of our first encounter. But, it is not to be, for here in this lost world the comforts are basic. A sponge bath will have to do…small succor, but better than none at all.

Silently I creep from his side, watching carefully as I leave him, gauging the rise and fall of his chest lest I cause him to wake. Then, taking the large kettle of warm water from the hearth, I fill the basin on the washstand and begin my toilet.

Slowly I caress the contours he had so carefully abraded the night before with his angry brush, feeling them tingle anew. What had he been thinking then, I wonder? What demons had his bristled weapon sought to exorcize?

Then, in the dim light of dawn I hear him shift, a brief rustle among the shadows. Is he sleeping? Is he watching me now, I wonder? Are his eyes assessing me as a woman, or a willing and accessible receptacle for his disquiet?

Turning in his direction, I peer through the gloom, but find only the dusky veil which captures that corner of the room. He must be asleep, I surmise…is he not? Certainly I would know if he were awake. His eyes would burn into me like twin beacons, eagerly licking at my flesh until I burst into flame. I would know…or would I?

Emboldened by my certainty, I lean once more against the post, that formidable support that dominates so well, and begin to stroke my aching body. It feels good, so good, a cathartic cleansing that washes away a multitude of sins.

He breathes heavily in the pristine silence. Is he watching? Is he?

But no…surely not! And so, with trembling fingers I continue to stroke the warm wetness over my breasts, caressing that which had been so sorely abused the night before until I feel myself begin to flow with the memory of that which has so recently passed.

The beast…had he read my mind last night? Does he know the way to disarm me, to take me in both body and soul? I can only guess, but in posing the question I answer it as well. Yes.

Flowing freely now, I slide the cloth between my thighs and cleanse the final traces of submission from my battered opening.

OH! The sensations it elicits! Once more I feel his hands upon me, the strength of his presence as he takes me, the trembling need as I capture his essence deep inside. But there was more last night. There was a joining that transcended the flesh as well. There was a deeper passion at work between us.

Again I search the shadows for a sign, but none is forthcoming. Should I, I wondered…could I?

Slowly the cloth slips from my fingers, landing with a soft “plop” between my feet. I close my eyes, the haunting vision of Him filling my mind as it had the long night through…and I began to stroke.

As though revisited, I can feel his teeth once more, ravaging that which he could not devour. His manhood impales me, and my quivering fingers followed suit. My knees begin to weaken, my legs threatening to betray me, and I reach one hand above me for the hook upon which I had shackled my passion the night before.

The storm builds, whirling in my belly like some squirming, gnawing carnivore, until with a whimper it bursts into my palm, leaving me flushed and undone.

Has he seen?

Knees shaking I slip to the floor, my fingers glistening with the evidence of my weakness. Would he taste the same this morning, I wonder, peering at my slick digits…would I taste the same?

Tentatively, I slipped my fingers into my mouth, sucking delicately on first one and then the other. Yes, he is here yet, but so am I. The delicate bouquet assails my nostrils, and I suck with renewed vigor. What better way to break my fast than this, I smile, savoring the flavor of passion’s ancient recipe. What better indeed.

The embers in the fireplace pop, sending a shower of sparks deep into it’s hungry maw, and for a brief second I see him, eyes wide and burning, invading my seclusion with heated gaze. I flush. He has seen me! He has watched my display of weakness in silence, and now I am his.

Red-faced and flustered, I begin to gather my clothing…but he stays my hand.

“No,” he mutters thickly. “Today we begin. Leave your clothing, it’s your bare flesh I want.” And so, securing my wrists once more to the post, he begins to twine a length of chain about my body, holding me fast in its tempered grip.

The links pass between my breasts now, cutting into the delicate flesh beneath, then wrapping itself about my waist as it continues between my thighs until finally slipping intimately between the folds of my weeping sex like some perverted chastity belt.

I hold my breath…what next? Will he…? But no, for now he settles himself before the glowing embers and begins to sketch, capturing his Andromeda on the page before him in ways that only his eyes alone can see.

Long hours pass, the chain holding me tightly in its embrace, grinding in intimate friction against the tender nub of my clit. I am in agony. I am in heaven.

My Master has given me small sips of strong, hot coffee during my incarceration, and it is with great humiliation that I finally beg my freedom to relieve myself. He looks confused at first, as though Andromeda should not require such mundane things, but finally he acquiesces and my chains are removed.

“Leave the door open,” He instructs, his tone brooking no resistance. “I need to know you…completely.”

I pause at that. Would even this meager display of privacy be denied me? Could I function with his eyes upon me?

Cringing, I cross the floor and enter the small water closet that is this cottage’s only concession to modern convenience. Then, settling myself atop the wooden ring I prepare to empty my aching bladder.

Nothing.

I close my eyes, eclipsing the sight of him watching me from the room beyond. Then, covering my slit with my palm, I feel my deliverance finally at hand. Quickly I conclude my business, then return to the outer room where He sits, his face stern and countenance troubled.

Finally, after an eternity of silence, he beckons me to the table. There he lays a small wheel of runny brie and crusty peasant bread for our morning repast. It is basic, primitive if you will, but at that moment it tastes like ambrosia. Ravenously I tear at the crusts, lathering them with the fragrant cheese, and greedily washing them down with huge draughts of red wine.

My head begins to spin, my senses reeling until my inhibitions fall by the wayside and my wantonness rises to the fore. He crosses then to secure me once more to the post, but my mind is on other things.

Heatedly I press my naked flesh against him, brazenly taking his hand and insinuating it first between my trickling nether lips, then within the drawn and demanding embrace of my teeth. He hesitates, his manhood stiffening as he allows my liberty. Then, with a jerk he once more wraps the chain about my squirming flesh and takes charcoal in hand. I am Andromeda once more…and the chains I bear are now of my own making.

And so passes the first day. Finally, night falls, and a child from the neighboring village brings a generous slab of venison and blood pudding for our evening meal. Grapes and hard cheese accompany the repast, as well as thick, dark bread and salted meat to see us through until the following evening. If we starve, it will be of our own doing, I reflect, and it will not be for lack of food.

Once more he sets the fire for the night, then turning he leads me to the post. Again I assume the position, my back firmly braced against the rough surface, my mind reeling. But tonight he pauses, as though warring with indecision, then abruptly turns me belly-first against the wood, fastening my arms about the pillar and securing my palms together in supplication.

My body tenses as he begins to caress my twin orbs. Surely he would not expect me to perform the one defining act that failed to distinguish me from those of his own sex?

Panic rising, I begin to struggle at my bonds, my fear of the unknown claiming me in no small amount. A tiny mewling sound escapes my throat, and my legs begin to tremble. Will he take pity? Will he release me?

Then, an oppressive hush falls over the room and I feel his hands explore that which he has so deliberately exposed for his use. Once more I whimper, my feet coming together in a desperate attempt to forestall my fate, but it serves no purpose.

At once he pries my legs and buttocks apart, then kneeling between my quaking limbs he proceeds to prepare the way for his vile act.

[No] I wanted to scream. No man had ever taken me thusly. Perhaps this was a passion of the Greeks, but surely the illusion of Andromeda has limitations!

Wordlessly he wets my nether passage with my own juices, his lips paying homage to that which lies before him, then rising he sheds his clothing and presses his hardened knob against my untried portal.

Desperately I clench my muscles to deny him entry, but it is a futile gesture, for in a single massive lunge he penetrates me, sending bolts of heated pain throughout my nether regions. My eyes begin to fill, but still I hold my tongue. I will not give this beast the satisfaction of knowing he has bested me in such a fashion!

Rocking his hips he proceeds to withdraw, but only for a second. Then, renewing his assault he thrusts his bulbous invader deep into my body once more, hilting himself as I writhe before him, crucifying me with his heated spike. 

Whimpering, I bite my lip until the taste of warm, salty blood seeps onto my tongue, but still I will not cry out…will not plead for my freedom from this impalement.

Again he thrusts, and again until I become numbed by the sheer pain and force of his passion and slump against the post. Finally, as he floods me with the boiling proof of his lust, his arms enclose me, cradling my hands in his own as though to join in my supplication.

“I love you,” he whispers huskily, and I know at that moment he means it. He had sought to brutally remove all defenses, to strip me of my barriers, and instead has imprisoned himself deep within their confines.

It was a final battle, and the beast has lost. In its place stands Perseus, my savior, bound to the same rock as I, the victim of our own unbending passions. As I feel him soften within me, I know that what we shared was a connection that could not be broken by mere absence of flesh. For better or worse, we were helpless before our shackles.

I lay my cheek against the cool roughness of the post, feeling his warmth enfold me. “I know,” I murmured in pensive response, ”I know…

---------------------------------------------

Chapter 7 Elise- A New Day

The next morning I awake serenely in my lover’s arms. 

We had lain touched and touching until the rosy dawn had hedged the horizon, and then had fallen into a deep, peaceful sleep. The pillar remains forsaken, a symbol of the freedom we have given each other, of the passage of demons from his life and mine. Instead rests the golden promise of myths to come, legends to rise from the ashes. We will create what we need from the vestiges of our old lives and forge ahead, timeless in our resolve and dedication.

We feast on a late breakfast, cold meat and fruit on the edge of the cliff, tossing scraps to the seabirds that circle and cry greedily above the churning waves. Then, slipping from our garments, we make long, slow love beneath the clear, blue sky with only the gulls to witness our lusty abandon.

Finally, it is time to return to the cottage, and to the task at hand. This time as he binds me to the post, I can sense a mischievous purpose underlying his actions, and I smile.

“You enjoy being bound, don’t you?” he asks huskily, his eyes traveling over my pale flesh as though it was again the first time. “You like being touched, being taken, being helpless in this position.”

I shake my head, denying all, but I fool no one. Even now the feel of my bindings causes my nipples to pucker and moisture to form between my thighs.

“You want me to touch you…here?” he asks, slipping a finger deep into my slit.

I groan, and force myself onto his probing digit, but he only laughs.

“Or is this what you crave?” His lips now seek my breast, suckling the nipple until it grows hard and urgent between his teeth.

“You want it all, don’t you?” he whispers softly, his hands stroking my helpless body. “You want me to draw you out, fill you until you scream for more. Well…I won’t.”

My eyes widen. “Won’t?”

“We must finish these sketches today, Elise. We have obligations. So even if I am weak and pause occasionally to…touch you, you must remain steadfast and unmoving. That is a model’s job, is it not?” he whispers intimately, pressing his body against my own, his hand cupping the delta between my legs.

Slowly, I nod. He means it! We have work to complete, and it is my job to remain motionless until he gives me leave to shift my body once more. And so I remain.

For long hours he sits, sketchpad in hand, bringing my charcoal image to life. Occasionally he pauses and draws nearer to focus on the details of some intimate portion of my anatomy, at which time he allows his hands to caress, to probe until he hears me whimper my need into the silence. Then he returns to his seat and continues with the job at hand.

Finally, he sets his pad aside and approaches my position with more than a look of artistic concentration on his face.

“Do you enjoy it when I touch you in this way?” he questions, pinching my distended nipple between his thumb and forefinger. “Do you enjoy the pain, the crudity when I take you here?” Now his hand slips between my thighs, his finger probing between my buttocks. “I think you do…”

“No…I…” I begin to protest. How could I crave something so vile? How could I? But I do.

Suddenly the chain drops to my feet, and my hands are freed. My lover rubs my cold fingers, massaging my wrists until I hope beyond hope that he will apply them elsewhere.

Then, he leads me to the large, wooden chair that rests beside the hearth.

“Sit,” he directs, “and stretch your arms behind the chair.”

I’m puzzled, but I do as ordered and clasp my hands together behind the firm, straight back of the seat. These my lover promptly binds in place, causing my breasts to jut lasciviously before him.

Then, tugging my hips forward, he spreads wide my lower limbs, draping each leg upwards over the wooden arms until I find myself fully opened and on display for his pleasure.

“Excellent,” he murmurs, stroking his fingers between my thighs. “So pink and delicate. A feast for Man and Beast.”

Then, kneeling between my thighs he parts my sex with his thumbs, like a ripe apricot, and begins to torment me. His tongue, oh his tongue…how it drives me. He probes, he teases, he drinks the nectar from my womb until I writhe in delicious agony, helpless to deny him anything. I come…I come…I come…




Andromeda



Finally, his cheeks slick with my juices, he rises and drapes my legs over his shoulders. Then, thrusting his hardened organ against my lips he bids me suck.

Eagerly, I obey, drawing him deeply into my mouth, swirling my tongue around his heavy shaft until it rests like iron against my palate. He’s close, so close, and already I can taste the first droplets of his semen upon my tongue…but then he stops!

I open my lips to protest, but he stills me with a touch. Then, stretching my thighs higher…higher, he shifts position and presses his swollen sex against my narrower passage. I squirm, my traitorous arousal flowing wetly between my buttocks, and with a sigh he gives a mighty lunge.

Oh! The pain! If our last encounter left me stretched and bruised, it was nothing compared to this! Here, in this chair, in this position, I have no buffer from by which to inhibit his massive intrusion. I cry out, my lips forming the word “No” in silence, but no sound escapes into the wet pulse of the room.

Again he lunges, filling my body with his hot, hardened flesh, pounding inside of me until I writhe beneath him, lost in the tormented bliss he offers. Then, with a brush of his thumb upon my clit, I explode. Screaming, I tear at my bonds, I rut against him as he penetrates my very being. Finally, with one Herculean lunge, he groans his intent and gushes forth, filling my body with the molten offerings of his sex.

We have joined, body and soul. We have climbed the pinnacle. We are one.

Our last dawn creeps slowly over the horizon, bringing with it a dread of the day to come. Paris, and our old lives await. Our brief respite has passed, and the world closes in upon us once more.

What will become of us in the days to come, I wonder. Will we go our separate ways once the world intrudes into what we’ve come to know in this place? We have accomplished all that we set out to do and the sketches are breathtaking, but in our victory have we lost a more important truth?

We make love in the big bed one last time, touching as though it will be our last. The cottage seems to mourn our loss almost as much as we regret our exile from it. By tomorrow the magic will be gone and the bustling streets of Paris will swallow the memory that was our gift. Etienne will go about his business, a lauded artist, and I will take on another modeling assignment, alone once more.

I think now of Rostand and his distain, of the faceless men before him, and realize I can’t go back to that. Perhaps I will once more be welcomed back into my father’s home, a prodigal child begging for forgiveness for my wayward past. I will find a sedate farmer, or perhaps a fisherman, breeding him a school of fine, fat children while I try to forget that this time in the cottage ever existed.

But no, it will never come to pass, I can never forget. Etienne has become a part of me. I will see his face in every man who crosses my path until my journey finally comes to an end. I belong to him. My fate is sealed.

Etienne too seems devoured by the loss of what we’ve found in this place. His motions are sluggish and hesitant as he prepares his supplies for our departure. I feel his eyes upon me, longing for a solution where one is not possible. We are two separate people once more. We are lost.

Finally, all is at ready, and the carriage is loaded. We close the door behind us and the trappings of civilization once more embrace out lives.

I turn one last time to bid farewell to our cottage by the sea, and then suddenly realize that I’m not leaving it all. If what we shared here, in this enchanted place had any truth to it, then it’s now a part of us. We will carry it through the days and years to come. This place was but the framework for the painting…the real masterpiece lies within us.

Etienne seems to read my thoughts, and takes my hand as he did on the hill above so long ago. It is not to comfort me now, as it was then. It is a promise.

I am his. He is mine. 

The portrait is complete.