0 comments/ 88420 views/ 11 favorites Breeder Ch. 01 By: ZacNeuman Opening my eyes was a painful ordeal. It meant that I had to come to terms with the fact that I was badly injured. I couldn’t feel my legs and I could taste the sour thickness of my own blood as it oozed its way along the back of my throat. My left arm wouldn’t move when my mind willed it to do so and I wondered if it was even attached to my body. Afraid to turn too quickly for fear of causing more pain, I moved my head slowly just a bit to the side. That little bit of movement and what I could see through my clouded vision showed me my arm was still there. I was thankful that it was attached to my shoulder and, to my relief, all of my other body parts seemed to be connected, too, although cut and bleeding profusely. Trying to wipe the rivulets of blood that flowed into my eyes, the shock from the agonizing pain as I tried to bend my fingers to get them to work made me aware that three of the fingers on my right hand were broken. When I was able to get enough of the blood smeared away from my right eye, it was evident at that point that my left eye was swollen shut, (I think). I ventured a look around trying to comprehend and analyze my surroundings as best as I could. The escape pod was badly trashed and some of the reinforcing framework had collapsed around my legs, reason enough for them not to move. It was almost dark inside but breaches in the hull allowed traces of sunlight to stream inside. I guess this planet had an adequate atmosphere that could support this carbon based unit because I was still breathing in spite of the new mixture. My uniform was in tatters and I could see bone poking through the left arm of the suit. Not good, but I was alive. Using my right arm to comb the immediate area I was able to find a piece of metal that could be used as a lever to try and free my legs. The pain involved just pissed me off more than anything else. I tried to move my upper body and found that I could, but every muscle felt like it had been tenderized by the Jolly Green Giant. That’s also when I discovered at least two broken ribs. I was breathing evenly and there were no blood bubbles coming out so I figured that my lungs had not been punctured. “Good things happen to good people,” I thought, actually hoping those words were completely true. My most immediate problem was finding something to use as a fulcrum for my lever. Whatever that something was going to be, it had to be within reach. I saw part of my command chair which seemed to be staring me in the face, but it was just inches away from my circumference of grasp. I tried using the piece of metal, which I was able to extend toward the remnants to pull it toward me, but it backfired and it rolled even further away from me. “Why is it that everything I decide to do is the hardest god damn thing I have ever done in my life”? I was talking to myself. I tried for the better part of an hour to get that damn piece of metal but fatigue took over and I gave up as much in frustration as in self pity. . My head was lying on something hard and I was thinking that this is an awful way to die. I wondered how long it would take before I either bled to death or starved. Then I started to wonder how long I had been here, I couldn’t come up with an answer. Time didn’t seem to be on my side at this moment. God knows how long ago I was the Chief Stores Mate on an interstellar freighter heading back to Earth from some God awful place in the Galaxy that offered no decent atmosphere to breath and was constantly stormy. But it was rich in minerals and that would have made even the Stores Mate on a freighter a rich man. If it hadn’t been for that stupid piece of rock floating around in space, we would have made it to Earth and I would have been on easy street. Instead, I found the first escape pod and ejected, watching the whole ship implode as I floated silently into space. Only one other pod was able to escape, but the debris from the freighter got caught in its propulsion unit and it just floundered. Most likely its still orbiting around the remains of the freighter like an moon. “Christ, how long is this dying gonna take anyway? “I got things to do and people to see”. The sound of my voice and the insanity of my words made me laugh which caused my ribs to hurt and I gasped as the taste of blood quickly ascended into my mouth. Apparently, something must have ruptured inside my body and I knew I was bleeding pretty badly. Exhaustion was taking over and I was getting tired so I closed my eyes and just waited for the long sleep to take me. Just about the time I felt my life ebbing away from me and the pain had settled into a constant throb, manageable, but constant, a flash of light caused me to open my eyes. I saw the side of the hull begin to glow red. I was fascinated by this and watched as it turned white and then I realized it was a cutting torch. “Great, just when I’m about to die, some stupid fucker has to go and rescue my sorry ass,” I thought, and then passed out never knowing just who or what was attempting to set me free. Coming to every now and then, from being bumped and a stab of pain would shoot through my body and my eyes would open. There was greenery all around me, lush and vibrant with deep color. I tried to angle my head to see who was carrying me but like all good rescue people, they totally immobilized my entire body. All I could do was gaze at the canopy of vegetation overhead, occasionally seeing a brightly colored bird or two. There were jungle sounds with the screeches and howls of various animals staking out their territory. The gentle rocking of the stretcher would lull me back to sleep only to be brought back to consciousness with the next sharp bump that caused pain. Eventually, a massive jolt, causing me to stiffen and cry out brought me to my senses as I was being placed into a vehicle of some kind. This is when I was finally able to catch my first glimpse of my rescue team. They were two women with a dull color green skin who seemed to be talking in a language that used clicks and unintelligible sounds. Their uniforms were a dull khaki color which seemed to blend in with their skin. I noticed that their fingers were longer than those of earthlings and I wondered how tall they were. The green skin was striking but other than the hands they seemed to be developed much the same as the inhabitants of earth. I thought that one of them was sort of cute in an odd way they both had dark hair and one had intense blue eyes while the other had purple eyes. They placed an oxygen mask over my mouth and nose as they started to run IV’s into my veins and things got foggy real quick. I sort of remember one of them handling my broken arm and I couldn’t feel a thing as she set it. “Odd,” I thought, “I should be screaming in pain right now,” and I let the drugs overtake me. My next waking moment was in a room. It was not a hospital room as I know one. It was more like a bedroom. There was a glass door at one end of the room that opened on to one of the most beautiful yards I have ever seen. It had a fountain with what appeared to be a fish pond that wound its way around the property going under small foot bridges. Standing alongside were exotic looking trees and vegetation that flowered in hundreds of different colors. Sunlight filtered into the yard through a thick canopy of green overhead that softened the light and make it somewhat mystical. Other than the glass doorway, there seemed to be no other doors along the walls of the room. The walls were made of an adobe like material, thick and solid looking. There were no decorations inside or hung on the walls just as there was no furniture except for the bed that I was lying on. Lights in the room did not exist, but the room itself appeared to be illuminated as if the adobe material glowed, but it didn’t. Light was just present in the room and well adjusted, no brightness, nor was it too soft. It was weird, but comfortable. The temperature was around seventy-five degrees and felt wonderful against what little bits of exposed skin could feel it. The air was fresh and flowed freely, yet there seemed to be no vents or filters in sight. The blankets that covered me were of a silk-like material, light and slick and felt exotic to my skin. It was then that I noticed my left arm was lightly wrapped in a somewhat gauze like material that seemed to be more for an abrasion than for a broken arm. I hefted my arm and found that it was sore yet not broken. I felt my ribs to see if they hurt and I felt no pain. I coughed to test that, but, still no pain or the taste of blood. I pulled back the covers and inspected my legs. There were some scars extending from just above the knee caps to just above the ankles, and I presumed they must have been crushed, but I could move them and wiggle my toes. There was a twinge as I moved my legs but I was overjoyed that I could feel them and use them. What I did notice, though, was that I was completely naked. No hospital gown for this patient; my only outfit was what God gave me to begin with. I swung my legs over the side of the bed and placed my feet on the floor. The floor was made of a shiny stone like material, yet it gave a little like carpet. It felt warm and soft, yet hard and resilient. It had a gloss as if it had just been waxed and polished. I ventured a little weight on my legs and they felt unsteady, my knees wobbly, so I remained in a sitting position. I looked up and a khaki uniformed, green skinned, woman entered the room. She seemed to just pass through the wall as if it wasn’t there. She had a tray with what appeared to be some sort of medications. She placed the tray in mid air next to the bed and it hung there as if there was some sort of table under it. I was somewhat confused at what I was seeing and wondered if it was all a dream. She smiled at me and with her gentle hands, tipped with her elegant, long fingers, guided me back on to the bed. From the tray, she took an ear piece and placed it in my right ear. “Can you hear and understand me,” she asked? Her words were perfect English with no accent whatsoever. “Yes,” I marveled, “I can. But how is this possible? Who are you? Where am I”? “Please, one thing at a time,” she said as she prepared something on the tray, “we have to heal you first and then we can talk about anything you want, okay?” “Fine, but how is it that I can understand you”? “You have a universal translator in your ear piece and I have one in mine. It helps to bridge the gap between two different cultures and makes for complete understanding in both languages.” “Amazing,” I said. “Yes,” she took a small brush and began to brush some sort of oil onto the scalp of my head and forehead where I had been gashed. “Will miracles never cease?” As I thought this to myself, I wondered if she could hear my mind as well. I felt a sort of warmness where the oil touched and a tingling sensation. It made me light headed and I felt weaker. I groaned a little as she kept administering this special oil hoping she would soon stop. “This will fell a little disorienting to you, so please bear with me.” As she spoke to me her sensuous fingers began working the oil laden brush across the scarred areas of my legs. I began following her hands as I gazed at her tender fingers and their beauty as if those things would ease the distress I was feeling now. The warming sensation traveled slowly through my skin and into my muscles and within a matter of a few seconds began to reach my groin. I could feel my body exude sweat and my belly tightened. My breathing came in gasps and I felt as if I was thrashing all over the bed but my body was perfectly still. I was in the midst of a hallucination and my hearing intensified to that I could hear not only my heartbeat but hers as well. She then un-wrapped my left arm and brushed the same warm, silky smooth oil onto what appeared to be nothing but a nasty gash where the bone had been poking through. There was no sign of stitches or of a cast of any kind. There were a thousand questions I wanted to ask her about how and why, where and when, but the warmth from my arm spread to my shoulder and thoracic cavity. This was all so much for me to comprehend and I didn’t understand this heightened awareness that seemed to be spreading throughout my body because as she painted my rib cage with the same oil, it completed a sort of circuit in my body that seemed to transcend my entire being into another world. I could neither talk nor move. I felt like I was actually suspended in air. Never before had I experienced a unique sensation such as this. I could feel the blood coursing through my veins moving through the many arteries that joined one another in keeping me alive. Astonished, I looked toward the closed glass doors that were thirty meters away as I tried to make some semblance of what I was capable of hearing. It was the sound of a bird’s claw penetrating the surface of a tree branch as it landed with wings outstretched. I felt the frequency of the light in the room as it changed suitably as the daylight streaming in through the glass receded and the interior light increased to compensate. I was alone, yet I felt that I was a part of every living entity in the universe. The infinite boundaries of inner and outer space became something understandable to me and I felt as if I was on the same wave length as all living matter. I could see the atoms that made up the dust modes that floated in the air and in them I saw the entire universe with thousands upon thousands of galaxies floating inside. A sort of vibration, or sound, like a tuning fork, rang in my ears and throughout my entire body; it was this that was giving me my life force and healing power. I understood without comprehending. These sessions with the green skinned, khaki clad women went on for multiple treatments. In between these times, I would be asleep and each time I awoke, a woman would appear and begin to brush the medicating oils on my naked flesh. The scars healed from this miracle oil and my skin showed no signs of any damage in the least. During their many visits to my room, I found out that I was on a planet that was called Ethos and I was in a region inhabited by the Zamanow’s. The Zamanow’s used an interesting mixture of herbal medicine and psychokinetic healing. They ‘thought’ to knit the damage to my internal organs and bones and used the herbal oils as a sort of conduit for maxim efficiency and to piece together my skin. The substances I would normally need in order to survive were provided by pure thought as well. It was during one of these sessions that I was informed should I find it necessary to relieve myself that there was a corner of the garden outside just for that purpose. The structure was durable and clean and had no lingering smell as most any other out house one might find anywhere. They informed me it was self cleaning. It felt weird not to have to eat or drink and I never felt thirsty or hungry. As for exercise, they ‘thought’ me into shape which was definitely a strange experience to be sure. I had no needs or wants of any kind, with the sole exception of desiring an article of clothing due to the fact that I was naked as the day I was born. They did not provide me with any type of apparel whatsoever. When I inquired about this, they only said that it would impede the healing ‘thoughts’ and oils from working and that their earnest desire was for me to be as fit as possible. This was certainly a different planet with different customs and a whole lot of different people; all of whom seemed to be women. Never once did I see any males. There were no shower facilities for me to use and each day one of the women would come in and give me a sponge bath. I offered to bathe myself but the women always insisted that they do the bathing, besides, and it seemed there was a certain amount of herbal medication in the water used that promoted healing and the full operation of all bodily functions. “When in Rome”, I thought, besides, having a lot of pretty green skinned women sponge me down every day was kind of a thrill. One day, while engaged in the ritualistic sponge bath, I sprang an erection. I was embarrassed and blushed and turned my head to pretend not to notice. “Ahh, you are healing nicely,” the women said. When I finally had the nerve to look her in the eye she had a lascivious smile that caused me more alarm. She gripped my stiffened cock and ran her hand along the length of it giving it a bit of a squeeze. “Not fully up to par, but you’re getting there,” she said. I was a bit mortified, embarrassed and somewhat bewildered at her reaction. She completed the sponge bath and gave me a wink and a smile and left. I had no idea how to react to any of this but remembering the Romans I figured I might as well give in and enjoy my situation as much as I could. A while later, I found myself pacing the room and then ventured forth into the garden and reveled in the sunlight that warmed my bare skin. I meandered throughout the garden and admired the strange fish in the serene pond that wound its way like that of a serpentine chain all along the garden area. It slowly dawned on me that my lack of clothing was not something that I was self conscious of anymore and, in fact, I enjoyed the this natural feeling very much. There was a freedom and a self awareness of my own sexuality. This was something that was new to me and I had grown to love the feeling of my smooth skin free from the confines of material. Somehow, the women with their beautifully smooth, green skin were not like women from earth and, therefore, I did not feel as though I was ‘exposing’ myself to them in the traditional sense of one who parades in this manner for the attention. Besides, the only people I saw were the women that took care of me. The Garden was devoid of any other bipedal mammals and it was just me and some of the most exotic birds I have ever seen. It was never quiet because the sounds of the jungle beyond the walls was ever present, yet, it was an almost Zen-like experience to wander about contemplating the vegetation or the planet I was on or whatever happened to be in my mind. My thoughts often turned to what the women were like without their khaki uniforms on and if they possessed the same biological processes that humans enjoyed. They were obviously far more advanced in their mental development and mental discipline to be so profoundly diligent in mending my beaten and broken body. Not one scar was visible to my eye and my entire physic was actually in better shape than before I boarded the freighter however long ago that was. All my muscles were taut and I was sure there was less than one percent of fat for my body weight. ’A lean, mean, fighting machine’ as my old drill sergeant would say. In a way, I no longer questioned what these ladies were doing and why, I was at peace with myself and my surroundings. I liked it here. My deepest wish was to never be “rescued” by my brethren but to stay here, like Adam in the Garden of Eden. A week or so passed and it was again sponge bath time with one of the more exceptional ladies. She, being of a deeper green skin, had dark colored hair with reddish highlights that flowed down to the small of her back. Her khaki uniform held in check rather large breasts and I could actually see hard nipples poking through the fabric. The uniform was short, about mid thigh and her legs, although green, were elegant and long. She must have stood an easy six feet tall, with a flat stomach and a nice round ass. She was well muscled in the way that an athlete was built, yet she moved like a ballet dancer so graceful and light. She wore no shoes and I noticed that between her toes she had slight webbing and naturally bright red toenails. She was devastatingly beautiful and I gasped at the sight of her. I was sitting on the bed when she just materialized through the wall, (something I had spent hours trying to discover how they did it and came up empty). She carried the usual metallic bowl filled with the watery substance that was to be my healing bath and she seemed to glide to my side and placed the bowl on the invisible ledge, (something else I never discovered the nature of). Breeder Ch. 01 “Today, we are going to do something a bit different with your sponge bath,” she spoke in a quiet way as she smiled at though her attention was centered on my full erection. I had gotten used to the women and their constant touching during this ritual which always caused me to grow almost instantly hard so I did not feel anything out of the ordinary. “I’m game if you are,” I answered. “Good then,” she fluffed the pillows on the bed so that I could lay back on them as I sat up and she positioned me thus. She took out a small vile of liquid and poured it into the bowl of herb filled water and stirred it gently yet thoroughly with the sponge inside. “This is a little something that might cause you to feel a slight pressure inside and it might make you just a bit sick to your stomach.” “What is it?” I asked. “It’s something made especially to fortify your circulatory system and to enhance your glands a bit. You will feel a tingling sensation and warmth that will spread throughout your body and because I don’t want you to scratch yourself raw, I am going to bind your hands to keep them from hurting you. Okay?” “This sounds dangerous and I’m not sure I really want to do this.” “It’s for your own good and, believe me, when it’s over, you’ll thank me. I swear it.” She took my wrists and held them together and raised them above my head and when she retracted her hands, I was bound as if there were rope around my wrists and I had the illusion that I was being hung, yet, there was nothing at all holding me, it was weird. I felt comfortable on the bed with the pillows cushioning my back and thought nothing more about it. The second the damp sponge touched my skin it felt like it was burning and I yelped. “Take it easy, it only lasts for a second or two, just relax.” As the sponge made its way along my skin, I could feel the tingling not just on the skin but deep inside. Every organ, every muscle, every sinew, even bone felt the tingle as a warmth radiated throughout my body. I felt the muscles in my stomach and groin pulling together and my back seemed to arch and tighten, in fact, all my muscles seemed to form a strong bond as the warmth and tingling grew in intensity. My mind began to feel as if it was on fire and my vision was blurred. For the first time since I had been there, I became parched and needed something to quench my thirst, but I was unable to speak. My throat felt like it had swollen shut and in my minds reasoning, I knew that was not true because I was filling my lungs with a larger than normal capacity of air, almost hyperventilating. When the sponge hit my calves my legs tightened and cramped but there was no pain, just the intense tightening of my muscles. By the time she got to my thighs I felt like I went bowlegged immediately and the tingling and warmth was incredible. I was starting to get sick to my stomach as my muscles reacted with violent spasms. This all became too much for me and when the sponge touched my balls I went totally blind and my head began to swim. “It’s alright honey, it’s almost over, I know you feel uncomfortable now but soon I’ll give you something nice to drink.” She said this so calmly yet I detected a quiet sympathy and an almost desire to be able to take the pain for herself. I was in such a state already but I knew the worst was to come as I felt the sponge make its journey along the length of my penis and it became rock hard like it had never been before. At this moment everything changed. I still could not see but my entire body and mind had only one purpose. All I wanted to do was fuck this green skinned nurse until she screamed for mercy. I wanted to tell her so, but the words wouldn’t come as I was so parched and dry, I couldn’t speak. I heard the sponge splash into the metal container of oily water, signaling the end of the bath. I didn’t want her to go, I wanted to see her, touch her, make love to her, and shoot my cum deep inside of her, yet there was nothing I could do. I could hear her moving around and the shifting of material and I knew she was still there but I could not see her. I then felt her take the ear piece from my ear so that I if I could have talked we would never understand each other. I was confused and my whole body was pulsating with need. I felt her straddle me on the bed and she took my face into her hands and opened my mouth. She was going to give me something to drink, and I needed that as much as I needed her. What touched my lips was the hardened nipple of her breast. And like a child with his mother I suckled on her breast. I could feel her gently squeezing her breast to allow her milk to flow and soon it did. The first few drops were like sweet nectar, but it was just a drop or two and I was so thirsty. Unsatisfied, I began to suck like a ravenous child on her breast and the suction I created caused her to moan just as I did feeling her fleshy bud inside my mouth. Slowly but surly, a slight, steady stream of liquid came from her nipple and I greedily nursed, swallowing hard while lapping for more. It was not mother’s milk as I know it, but something sweet and delicate in taste, like a fine wine. As it hit my throat it seemed to evaporate and that caused me to suckle even harder. I could feel her as she manipulated her breast and her breathing was becoming hard and fast. It was something of a sexual nature for her and she was getting off on it. With a slight pop, she withdrew her breast and she rubbed the hardened nipple on my cheek. My mouth was still opened and I needed more and soon I was offered the other breast which I immediately began feasting upon as greedily as the first. She was moaning loudly now and she was pushing my head into her breast as she maneuvered it for a maxim flow rate. The harder I sucked the more she moaned and I swear she climaxed because I could feel her whole body quiver and the purring of her humming voice went down two octaves. As I tug gently, begging for the release of more of her delicious offering she pulled her breast away from me and rubbed the hardened nipple on my check, a dap of the nectar leaving its trace on my skin. She placed my ear piece back on and told me that was very good of me, that I was “a good boy and ate most of my supper,” and she giggled. My hands were still suspended above me and I still could not see a thing, yet, I started to feel something strange happening to me. I could not tell you what it was but it was not anything I had ever felt before. I was still hard as a rock and I could feel the crack of her ass rub against my hardness and all I wanted to do was have her lift herself up and place herself on my dick and ride me for all she was worth. Then I began to wonder if the Zamanow were built anything like humans in their sexual liaisons. Who knows how natural selection chose to work its wonders on Ethos? “In a few minutes you will be ready for the second course,” she giggled again. Second course, I wonder if she meant me to suck her tits dry. Maybe this was how they had sex here. Now my vision was beginning to clear up a bit and things were looking blurry but I could make out shapes. “Please tell me when you can see again?” she asked. “It’s kind of blurry now, but it’s getting better,” I sounded horse as if I had been in a desert with no water for weeks. “That’s good, just hold on and you’ll be right as rain in a few minutes.” She began to massage my chest and shoulders and she would snuggle with me and give me little kisses about the face and neck. Whatever came out of her breasts felt like some kind of drug that had hallucinatory effects, yet I was cognizant of my surroundings and the clarity was becoming much more evident with each passing second. Without understanding the mechanics of the how or why, I at once became in tune with every portion of my body and intuitively knew how it worked. At this very moment, I was well aware that my questions had also been answered about all of eternity and the ever-changing universe. There was no need to ponder these mysterious wonders any longer as I knew just how simple all living entities were. I knew everything I had ever wondered about. At the epiphany, my eyesight returned completely, better than it ever been, and there right in front of me were the deep purple eyes of my green skinned lady. She was even more beautiful than I had imagined in my hazy state. Her eyes, alone, took me on my journey and back all in one gazing moment. Her hair had become a little redder and her skin had taken on a deeper green color. Her nipples were large and swollen and they were the familiar pink of ladies nipples I have always known. She was as naked as I was and I marveled at her body. She was well muscled and not an ounce of fat could be seen on her finely sculptured body. I wanted to put my hands on her hips and lift her onto my swollen penis but I was still invisibly bound. She was staring at me with those deep purple eyes and she held me captive in those pools of reflection. It was the most intimate trance I can ever recall, what was only minutes seemed like hours. “It’s time now; I think you’re ready for the second course of your meal, young man.” She stood on the bed with her legs on either side of me and presented her vulva to me. There were thin wisps of reddish pubic hair and what appeared to be the normal construction of a vagina just like that of humans. She placed one hand at the back of my head and with the other she parted her vulva while bringing my face to the flesh between her thighs. I did not need encouragement and I began to lick her puffy flesh and use my tongue to reach deep inside of her and marveled at her delicious taste of salt and sweetness. She angled herself so that I could get at her clitoris and I began to lick and then suck on it trying to lap as much of her juice as I could. For some reason, I needed this, I thought, to keep giving me my life. I felt her put pressure on my head as I delved into her as greedily just as I had suckled her breast. Her breathing began to deepen as she began to grind herself harder on to my face. She removed her hand from the back of my head and steadied herself with her palm on the wall and she pushed her pelvis into my face forcing my head against the wall as I sucked and licked her. If I could have, I would have used my fingers to probe every aspect of her and heighten her sexual experience. But, she was in control and she wanted it this way. Who was I to complain? I was more than happy to see that she was built to something that I found familiar just as I was enjoying getting her off. I loved the sounds she was making and the little gasps and long drawn out sighs with the occasional shudder. As her speed began increasing, I sensed she was near what she had wanted to achieve. Her grinding was with purpose and by the look of sheer satisfaction upon her face I knew she was about to explode into her orgasm. My male ego was hoping it would leave her weak in the knees and wanting more of me just as I wanted everything she could give me. That’s when she gripped my head with both hands and damn near suffocated me as she rode out her climax, in waves that lasted for minutes. Then she released me from her grip and as I gazed up at her purple eyes over her pink nipples and green skin I saw a familiar cloudiness in them that told me I have done my job very well. She dropped down next to me the bed in order to catch her breath and she leaned against me. “You’re coming along just fine,” she said between breaths, “I think you’ll do.” “That’s nice to know,” I said as I licked her wetness from the corner of my mouth. It was then that I noticed that the hallucinatory feeling had left me and in its place a powerful urge and an ache to realize myself sexually. Still on the bed with me, she idly gripped my stiff cock in her hand and began to move it up and down my shaft. This elicited a response from me of combined gratefulness and total pleasure. “Yes, you are much better these days and I think you have made a full recovery.” She said it somewhat detached like a doctor about to lance a boil. “I’m so glad you think so,” I said, wanting her to continue. “Yes, I do believe you’ll fit in well here,” she said. “I certainly do hope so.” Then she bent forward and began to take me in her mouth. She was incredible. She had the ability to take me entirely inside her mouth and down her throat and produce suction unequaled to anything I have felt before. She cupped my balls with one hand and lightly massaged them as she sucked me and with her other hand she formed a ring between her thumb and forefinger at the base of my cock. In my state, it did not take her long before I began to erupt with a load of semen I though would never quit. Not one drop escaped from her mouth and she swallowed it all and sucked the very last drop from me before she once again sat by my side on the bed. “Hmmmm, that was nice.” She said. “I liked that very much.” “I liked it very much too,” I said. “You really do taste quite good, I will have to do this more often.” “I would be honored if you did.” She raised her hand above her head and my wrists became unbound and they dropped to my sides. I put my arm around her and brought her close to me and hugged her, and she nuzzled into my chest, purring like a kitten. As she did so she idly played with my limp penis, studying it and inspecting it. She would rub it every now and then and we began to chat about how pretty the day was and how weird the sponge bath was. She assured me that it was of vital importance to do things just as they were done, because she wanted me to be a strong and virile man. I assured her that I, too, wanted to be all of those things for her. “You must tell all the women that,” she giggled. As her long, slender fingers played with me I began to get hard and she smiled and suggested that perhaps a third course would be in order. Ever being the man to want to please a beautiful green skinned woman I whole heartedly agreed. She stroked me until I was rock hard and then she straddled me and I got my chance to grip her hips and really fuck the shit out of her. I pounded on her in every way possible; I rolled her onto her side and lifted her leg as I ground myself into her up to the hilt. Wanting more, I then got her on all fours and took her from behind and watched the ripples in her ass as I let loose all the pent up sexual need in me. While my cock was rubbing her with each stroke I could tell from the noises she was making that she was climaxing over and over. Her yelps and moans were like that of an animal and when I shot my load deep inside of her pulsing hole, she let out one last scream that shook my whole body and I had to cry out in unison with her. When I was through pumping all my cum within her she held me tightly like a vice against wood and wouldn’t let me off of her for at least a half an hour; something which I didn’t mind at all. I loved the feel of her skin against me and the touch of her hands on my body. It felt like heaven the way her legs wrapped around my mid-section and just staring at the beautifully disheveled look of one who has had one hell of a good fucking. As she got herself together to leave, she began to tell me a little bit about the Zanamow. There was a protracted war with the southern half of the planet and most of the men went to fight. The war was won but at a terrible cost. The opposition used chemical warfare in a last ditch effort to win and it caused more than ninety percent of the male population to become sterile. Those that weren’t sterile were so chemically disrupted that no amount of healing could bring about their continued health. Things were looking dim for the Zamanow, with out a male population the chances of continuing the species was doomed. So, they began to snag DNA material from different sources to make their own male population. These men, while adequate for the purposes of manual labor and agricultural tasks were not suitable enough material to continue the species. So that’s when they decided to recruit outside sources, like myself. At this point I began to get an awful feeling that something bad was at foot. “Normally, the Zamanow reproduce by first creating a fertile zone in the male for the female seed to take root. In my case, it is necessary to prepare my DNA material to be compatible with Zamanow DNA material, (she pointed to the metal bowl used for the sponge bath). Then by allowing the male an ample supply of “mother’s milk” as the female is in orgasm the male will swallow her ovum. The ovum is accompanied in the milk and will give the ovum a safe nest in which to be fertilized. Then the male’s sperm must enter the female in the same fashion in order to mix with vital proteins provided by the female constitution. In order to complete the union, the ovum inside the male must be transmitted into the female via traditional sexual acts. The proteins from the male absorbed through the milk give the ovum and the sperm a better then average chance for fertilization.” “You mean to say I just impregnated you,” I asked? “Yes, of course. That’s why you’re here. We need a vast supply of males and with a few good men like yourself, we can slowly build up our culture and maybe even better it with the introduction of new genetic material.” I had a dumb look on my face. “You’re a Breeder,” she smiled sweetly. “You are going to have sex with every available female on this planet and we will have a wonderful crop of babies. Hopefully, we will find other genetic material to add to the mix, but for now, you are a prize and we want you in good health.” “What happens if I just don’t do it,” I wondered aloud not realizing I was actually speaking. “When you are no longer useful to us, we will just let you die. But don’t worry. We can keep you healthy like this for at least the next twenty years, and then, who knows.” With that, she picked up the metal container with the sponge and passed through the unseen door. That was five years ago and I am still walking around the garden naked in my prison, doing my duty for their mankind. I am in a cage in a fertility zoo, where my onlookers see in through transparent walls but I cannot see out. I have never seen the children, but I have heard they are different colors. Some are grey like the storm clouds that often appear above this planet right before the light turns to darkness, some more blue than green, almost the same hue as the water I remember when last I visited Earth, and every once in a great while one is white, like myself. All are males. I get the feeling they kill off most of the female fetus prior to birth, but I don’t ask. I just hang out until the next sponge bath, and hope that I last another fifteen or twenty years. Zjn 01/03 Breeder Ch. 02 It's been over a week now and no one has come. I fear the worst. For five years now, the sun never set on a day without a visit from one of my green skinned beauties. For most of last year I was doing double duty, two women a day. Then it returned to a normal pace of one woman a day. Then, a couple of months ago things got a little sporadic. One day I would be doubled up on women and the next nothing, only to be followed by a sole visit on the third day. I have never gone more than a day without. I have come to thoroughly enjoy my role as breeder for the Zamanow. Yes, I am in captivity, but I want for nothing as long as my semen serves the greater cause of repopulating the world. The Zamanow men became sterile due to a prolonged war in which the enemy used chemical toxins as a last resort. It's funny, but I thought that I would never get used to being naked all the time, but, now, I don't notice it at all. I really like it without clothing, there is a certain feeling that comes with baring all. I just wish I could share it with one of my ladies right now. It's funny, but as soon as one of them shows up, I immediately get hard as a rock. Like Pavlov's dog I have been trained in my duty to the state. And oh how I love the sex. It is rich and luxurious. I remember my very last visit. She was a dark haired beauty with hair so black it shone blue. She was tall and well built, with legs like a dancer and large firm breasts. I remember her nipples as pink protrusions that I greedily sucked upon as they spewed forth mother's milk to quench my lustful thirst. I rubbed her clit with my thigh and she moaned and purred like a kitten. She gripped the back of my head as I sucked first one nipple and then the other and when she came she embraced me in a bear like hug that almost broke my back. She then went down on me and she took her time. She licked the length of my cock and sucked my balls before she took me deep into her throat. I remember her hands touching my hands as I fucked her mouth. She had a very delicate touch and I exploded deep into her throat and she made sure every drop was consumed. I then went to pleasure her by spreading her legs apart and lapping at her beautiful pussy. She smelled so sweetly and her taste was better than average. I found myself engrossed in making sure she was completely satisfied. When her orgasm hit she bucked and rocked and let out cries of pleasure that warmed my soul deep down. I remember that we then talked about this and that, I had learned the language and was anxious to use my knowledge with the ladies as they came and went. I joked with her and she laughed and then I took her from behind. I can still feel her wetness as I pounded myself into her mercilessly. I enjoyed watching the ripples of her ass as I slammed into her. She was beside herself with pleasure. She was pitched forward onto the bed with her back arched and she had one hand that felt me as I entered her and she craved all that I had. I did not disappoint her. Had I known it was to be my last visit I would have made it last a lot longer and I would have been far more tender. Today I feel hunger for the first time in five years. I remember, so long ago, what the first women told me about my duty here. When I was no longer useful they would just let me die. I fear this is my swan's song. Perhaps I am no longer potent and my sperm is no longer viable for the Zomaow. Whatever the case, I have concluded that I am most likely left here to starve to death. Today, I am sitting in my garden leaning against a tree in the soft grass, feeling the warmth of the sun as it touches my skin. It feels good. I have my eyes closed and I am concentrating on the sound of the water as it flows through the fish pond into a small stream that snakes through the property. I feel connected to everything at this moment. I have accepted my fate and am waiting to die peacefully. Back on earth, the Japanese built gardens of extraordinary beauty. Every rock, every shrub, the way the sand swirled was of concern, even the sounds the garden produced was of vital essence. I know now the extent of that and feel connected to it in a detached sort of way. Of course I hear the tropical birds above me, but it's the sound of the water that trickles through my thought and calms me. A slight breeze rustles the leaves of the trees a centimeter and the slight cooling of my skin temperature is registered in my mind. I think this is the nicest spot on this planet to die. I have resolved not to move from this spot. I hear the glass doors open from my bedroom and my resolve is disturbed. Opening my eyes I see a woman approaching me and automatically my cock stiffens, ready for service. She is short, plump with very dark green skin and short, light colored hair, towards the reddish tones. She is an older woman, not usually the type that visits me. She is walking in a fashion of one who is late for an appointment. She is a woman on a mission. "We must go," she says standing over me, slightly out of breath. Her eyes are fixed on my erect and pulsating penis although I know this is not what she is after. "Go where," I asked? I have the calm of the already dead. My question seemed to interrupt her train of thought and she shook her head to rid herself of whatever she was thinking about. "We must go before they come to get you." "Who is coming to get me?" This seemed to exasperate her and she replied in a gush of words. "We really haven't time to discuss this right now so just take my word for it that the Council for Domestic Purity wants to put you to death." She had a pleading look about her, her eyes begged me to comply. I had never heard of the Council for Domestic Purity but thoughts of Croatia and Hitler came to mind and it seemed like a good idea to leave. If I am going to die it would be nice to at least resist a little and try and choose the time and place of my demise. Besides, I would like to see what the outside of my prison looks like. Rising to my feet, I extended an arm and politely offered, "After you." She studied my profile and I could tell she held thoughts not associated with escape and evasion. My protruding penis did not help her concentration. She grabbed my extended hand and began to hurry back the way she had come. As she pulled me along we broke into a kind of trot, as though we were running a marathon. As we entered my bedroom, I noticed for the first time that the walls were transparent and that I could see the opening in which she had come in. I had never seen this before and discovered that the building housed several units like mine. In the hallway we encountered four others of my ilk being led by women just like I was. I could tell that they were breeders because they were men and they were naked. Each, like me, had a stiff dick in front of them. I could see the bewilderment and fear on their faces as we met in the hallway. There was a lot of scuffling noises as the women funneled us through the building and into a couple of vans waiting by the front door. I climbed into the open doors of a van with two of my fellow breeders. The three of us tried to communicate to each other in our native languages but we had difficulty in communication. One spoke something in a Chinese dialect and the other spoke in Russian. One thing that we did communicate to each other was that neither of us had seen another male in quite some time. As we were jabbering about in different languages, a woman, very thick in the middle, approached the open doors of the van and tossed in a large plastic sack filled with similar khaki uniforms that the women wore. "Put these on. We haven't much time to loose." On top of the sack she tossed in three large tins that looked like oversized saddle soap containers. "Put this on your face, hands and feet, it will help conceal who you are." She then slammed the door and ran to the front of the van and climbed into the driver's seat and brought the engine to life. It was a noisy engine and I had not heard any like it ever. I wonder what the source of power was. I felt the touch of one of my compatriots tap my shoulder, it was the Russian, and he asked me in the Zamanow language, "How long have you been here?" "Five years, and you," I asked? "Six years I think, give or take a month or two," he answered. "It's been three years for me," the Chinamen piped in. His Zamanow was not as fluent as ours. "You must put the uniforms on now, please. If we get stopped we could all get killed!" We could hear the pleading from our driver as she was pulling onto a gravel lane. She was beside herself with fear and concern and it was conveyed in her voice. We began to pull the clothing out of the sack and recalling how one piece jump suits worked, and put them on. The material was a synthetic and very pliable, but for us, having not worn clothing in a long time, it was cumbersome and scratchy and bulky. We looked and felt awkward wearing them. After we dressed and felt suitably uncomfortable we investigated the contents of the tins. Like so many a shoe polish tin we turned the little metal wing nut on the side of the can to uncover the contents. Inside was a skin dye, used by the lighter skinned women to appear as if they were naturally a dark green color. You applied it with a soft cloth and just rubbing it on the skin turned our Lilly white skins into a dull green color. We helped each other apply the dye so that all exposed parts of us were covered. As instructed by our driver, we also rubbed the dye onto our scalp and it did not affect our natural hair color. We took care to get most of our upper chests and shoulders as well as our forearms and shins. When we were done, we looked like the Zamanow, at least, without close inspection, we could pass for it. One characteristic of the Zamanow was webbing between the fingers and toes and this concerned me. "What about the webbed fingers?" "Don't worry about that," our driver chuckled, "it's only the women that have the webbing. Our men have no such attributes." "What about shoes," the Chinamen wanted to know? "Everybody wears sandals here and you'll get them when we get to where we are going." "Where are we going," asked the Russian? "Someplace safe, about two hundred miles away from here in a town called Port Conway." "Why are we in danger," the Russian asked? She sighed and you could tell that she was collecting her thoughts. She made a turn onto a solid road and the sound of gravel popping under tires disappeared. She came to a decision about what she wanted to say and we hung on every word she uttered. "After the war, we were devastated. We won, but, only by total obliteration of the enemy. Some of us felt that it was genocide. But the war was so brutal and all consuming that no one dared to speak against it. It was when our men came home that we discovered that they were no longer able to generate offspring. Virtually every male between the ages of seventeen and forty five was found to be sterile. Our entire civilization would have died out within a generation had we not sought to find a suitable genetic source outside of the planet. That's where you come in. I was one of the scientists that developed the long range deep space scanners that located your interstellar ships. Another group of scientists developed a technology to divert space debris, like meteorites, to take out you vessels and set you adrift. Once adrift, we assumed that you would head for the closest planet that would support life for you. Hence, here you are. The country was desperate and they needed to generate a whole new generation of men for our women. We figured out how to combine genetic material so that cross breeding of different species would be successful and it worked. The five of you have generated about ten thousand children in the past six years. In the next ten years you would produce another fifteen thousand and that would give us a base to work with. A breeding program would start immediately when the children were old enough to begin to breed and we would have a slightly diluted but still viable offspring that would allow our civilization to continue." "So why aren't we breeding right now, if this is working out." I asked. "Last year, a group of my fellow scientists discovered a way to reverse the chemical toxin in about forty to sixty percent of the males affected. It takes about six months of painful treatment, but we can successfully restore a sterile male to his normal state. This started a major discussion among the more conservative of our people. There was a moral outcry about how we were destroying our society with these mongrel hybrids. At first the blame fell on us the scientists because we were the ones that developed the capability to create the toxins in the first place which caused the problem. Never mind that it was the people that we were at war with that created and used the chemical warfare, it was still our fault. Secondly, we are responsible for polluting the countries gene pool with inferior genetic material from outside our society. This last year has been real tough on us scientists and it has taken its toll. We are unable to work anywhere and when someone hears that we are scientists or researchers, we are subjected to everything from verbal taunting to out and out violence. The Council for Domestic Purity was formed and most of the population has joined. They openly advocate fratricide and have generated some extremely ugly incidents. Some twenty five of us have been beaten to death in some of the more out of way towns and villages. Many more have been hospitalized. Now the mob mentality is turning to the output of our genius and they are beginning to slaughter the mulatto children. Yesterday, a preschool was raided and eighteen of the children were hacked to death with machetes. A pile of their severed heads was placed on the doorstep of the local Breeder Selection Services." "Breeder Selection Services," I asked? Z The three of us looked at each other and felt a little embarrassed at the thought and at the same time, taking kind of a twisted pride in our work. "Anyway," she went on, "at this very moment a crowd of people are gathering to march toward the Breeder Institute, where you were housed. They intend to burn it to the ground and drag every living person out of there and butcher it. That included anyone who worked there. Needles to say, since yesterday, the place has been abandon with the exception of you breeders. For a couple of months now, my fellow scientists and I have been talking about getting out of the country. We have been setting it up with the Governments approval. We want to get the Mother's and their children out. Those mothers who wish to go will not be accompanied by their husbands. Most of the men will avoid these women who have had sex with you and conceived. They are considered to be dirty and shameful when just a year ago they were doing their patriotic duty. Some of the women have been beaten to death along with their mulatto child by their own husbands and boyfriends. Things are getting out of hand here and it's time to leave. We only decided to come and get you when we learned that the Institute was abandoned. Sorry, but you were something of an afterthought a missed detail in our plan. From here, we hope to get you on one of seven ships that are sailing to different destinations. All of these destinations are parts of the territory that the war was fought in and it is believed to be tainted with the same toxins that sterilized our men. Nobody will go near them. I have personally done extensive testing of the soil and water and air in some of these places and have found no evidence of toxic residue, yet, the populace believes that it is still infected and will not bother us there." "Just how certain are you about the toxicity in these areas," The Russian asked. "Oh, about seventy five percent," she answered. We all digested that information. "We are betting that seventy five percent of hope is better than no hope at all. What do you think," she asked? We looked to each other and we saw the same expression reflected back and I answered, "I think that seventy five percent chance of living is better than no chance at all." "Exactly the way we see things," she replied, "any other questions?" "Yes," I said, "just one. What is your name?" Port Conway was a sleepy little town on the coast with about two thousand people in it. The surrounding jungle seemed ready to swallow it up at any moment. The only industries in town was fishing and smuggling. Fishing obviously took a back seat to the money making industry of contraband smuggling. Moored in the mouth of the bay were seven cruse ships that were there at the behest of the government. The government could not prevent its own people from extracting violence among its own and felt a conscience about the people intended as victims. It supplied the transportation, but it was up to the individuals to get on board any way they could. The people had two weeks to do so and this was the last week. Every boat the village owned was used in transporting people and children to the ships. A steep price per head provided a windfall profit for the good residents of Port Conway. No one had time to pack any valuables and opted to take with them just what they needed for the trip. The town was busting at the seams and people were everywhere. There was no place to stay and we ended up on the beach with about two thousand women and children waiting their turn to board. Some five thousand had already been ferried aboard the boats and there was an estimated five thousand yet to come. This was the last three days of the grace period left and people were getting anxious. Tents and lean-to's sprang up on the beach and small cooking pots of foods boiled away as children cried and played with each other. As promised, we obtained a pair of sandals upon arrival and assigned a boarding number for the fist available spot on the next boat in. It was decided that we were to split up and go our separate ways as a better than average chance of survival. We had at least twenty hours to kill before our numbers came up and I spent it observing the mother's with their children. It is here for the first time that I saw the results of my efforts with these women. I could not recognize any of them, yet, they all seemed familiar. All the children were under seven years of age, some still in diapers. Occasionally I saw a woman who was pregnant with child and she had the worried look of a hunted beast. One thing the women all had in common was their mutual hate for the men that abandoned them in their time of need. They had a tendency to look at me like I was the enemy. I felt that it was not the time to confide in any of them that I was one of the breeders that was responsible for them being here. I helped Irma, our scientist driver, erect a makeshift lean-to and we seated ourselves under it. After a while, we were joined by several of her scientist friends who, like herself, were thick of body and older women. They brought with them food and we enjoyed a potluck stew, which we shared with several of the younger children who were constantly wondering around the beach. There was a vast communal effort going on between all the mothers and their children. No one was left out, all were accepted openly, with the possible exception of us men and the odd looks the scientists got. Night came and we slept in the sand of the beach. The crashing of the waves lulled me to sleep but only barley. Camp fires lit the beach for miles around and at the docks there was a constant crowd of people boarding boats of all types. Every hour or so, someone would come through the throng of people and call out the current number they were boarding at the moment, so those close to the number could stand and wait for their number to be called. Throughout the day and night, more people poured in and the beach was swarming with humanity. By morning I guessed that the number waiting on the beach was somewhere near five thousand and the air of excitement was heavy. Breeder Ch. 02 Tales of atrocities passed from person to person. A public shooting happened in one place and the local officials just congratulated the perpetrator and sent him home with a slap on the back. In another instance, a woman was brutally raped to death by a gang of men who though she was less than human for spawning a half bred. This was done in public in front of the women's child and condoned by her husband. Things were getting ugly out there and people wanted to get out before things got way out of control. Talk of bands of military types searching homes and butchering the "mestizo" began to take hold of the crowd and all of us waited anxiously for our numbers to be called. The call came for me at around three in the afternoon the following day. I piled into a small dingy with twenty two other people. The dingy was severely overloaded and sat deep in the water. Mother's clung to their children and hoped the stillness of the water would be constant for the entire trip out to the cruse ship. I was alone. The others had been shipped off to other vessels and I was the last to board a boat. I looked at the beach and it seemed to swell and heave with thousands yet to board. Next to me was a petite woman of light green skin and silvery blonde hair. She clutched at her son of five who kept asking if we were there yet. She was crying silently, tears rolling down her cheeks and dropping onto her clothing. I felt for her and put an arm around her to comfort her and she buried her head into my shoulder and wept. By five thirty we were climbing the stair ladder that sat in place for on-boarding passengers. Already the small cruse ship was filled to capacity and there was only room on the decks for us. I took her and her child with me as we gazed at the shore line. "I'll never see home again," she said. I knew how she felt. When I first came here I went through a similar experience, knowing that my chances of seeing earth again were non-existent. I had a terrible time letting go of the thought that somehow, someway, I would be rescued from this planet. Gradually, the pleasure of my "work" succeeded in diminishing the want to see home again. Now, with this women crying on my shoulder, it brought it all back again ten fold. I found a place on the deck where we had a relatively quiet and she took out a blanket from her possessions and covered us in it. This was to be our only home until we set anchor again, somewhere in the southern hemisphere of the planet. She told me that where we were going was near the polar cap and it would be very cold there in the winters. Very different than the tropical zone we were about to leave. Even when it was inhabited, it was sparsely inhabited. Less than a hundred people per square mile. Very little was known about the area, except that the war effort was stalled there and staggered in the hell of sub zero temperatures in the winter and summers filled with mosquitoes as thick as smoke. As we watched the sun go down I learned that her name was Pilar. Her sons name was Jason, after her husband. The boy had extremely light skin and he had a slightly different bone structure than his mother, yet, you could tell they were mother and child. Pilar's husband had driven her and Jason to the beach early yesterday morning and left them there. He never said a word nor did he ever look back once as he walked away from them and drove away. She seemed so frail and helpless, I just wanted to comfort her and make her pain go away. Jason found several other boys his age and he went off to play with them. All around us people watched the camp fires on the beach. It was very quiet and no one talked loudly, only in whispers. Some dried food was shared but even this was at a minimum. Pilar huddled close to me and I held her in my arms as we lay on the deck under her thin blanket. Even though she was fully clothed, I felt the familiar stirring of my forced profession. It was not lost on her for she felt my hardness against her thigh. She took a kind of solace in it and idly began to rock herself along my thigh. I let her rock herself into a sort of quiet intensity. I could tell that she was well aroused and wanted to continue, but, with several hundred people in the immediate area she felt a little shy. As we watched the fires on the beach, she reached a hand down and rubbed my stiff dick through the fabric of my jump suit, while I found her breast and stroked her nipples through the satin fabric of her blouse. I could feel the nipple respond and harden as I touched her and she moved even closer to me. We kissed deeply and with out sound and I let my hand caress between her legs and she let out a near silent moan. She was wearing a pair of light cotton paints and I could feel the labia of her vulva through the thin fabric and traced its outline with my fingers. She leaned in close to me and whispered into my ear, "You're a breeder aren't you?" A stab of fear coursed through me and I froze in place. "It's alright," she said, "I won't tell anyone who you are." "How did you know?" "Zamanow men do not treat their women as tenderly as you do. Fact is, most of the Zamanow men hardly know what to do with a woman once they have one. We women have to teach our men what to do, it's custom. You seem to know with out instruction. Only a breeder would know that." She was smiling at me and I felt that she was truly a friend, someone I could confide in. "I would like to show you what I know how to do, but, I don't think having an audience would be acceptable." By way of a reply she took my hand and slipped it inside of her pants and kissed me. I let my fingers find the folds of skin, slick with her wetness and I massaged her gently. She plunged a hand into my jump suit and took hold of my harden cock and stroked me. She snuggled close to me and cast a leg over my side. She was beginning to breathe in gasps and she stifled little cries of pleasure as I toyed with her clitoris. She licked my neck and nibbled on my ear lobe. "Your hands feel so good, it's been so long," she breathed into my ear. She suppressed a moan by sinking her face into my shoulder. I pulled my hand away from her and she looked into my eyes with pleading. I then pulled her pants down and she let a smile take her face. She shimmied a bit and manipulated her pants down around her ankles. I felt the smooth curve of her ass and the small of her back. My hand went under her thin blouse and found her breast and I felt the stiffness of her nipples and pinched them both. My hand discovered the smoothness of her belie. I whispered in her ear, "you feel so soft and delicate; I want to touch and feel every square inch of you." I found her clitoris again and she arched her back at my touch. She wanted to sigh and moan and groan but she stifled her little cries. I inserted a finger inside of her and she absorbed me. I could feel her muscles tighten around my finger and she buried her face into my neck, biting me to keep from making noise. It is the hour before the moon rise and it is very dark now, and darkness covers our movements. She reaches for me and takes care to pull my zipper down to the last notch before she takes me into her hand. "You are so big," her eyes are wide with excitement, "Zamanow men are not like this." I lift her up by pushing up on her pubis and I roll onto my back and lower her down onto me. She guides my hardness so that I enter her as I put her down on top of me and she gasps and holds back the urge to groan with pleasure. I watch as her eyes widen to capacity and her mouth forms an O. I push myself deep into her and her eyes widen even more. I place my hands on her firm ass and grind myself into her. She is having trouble breathing and stifling her voice so I ease up a little and she contorts her body to open up to me and take me all in. She grinds her pelvis against me and revels in the lust she is feeling. A thin trickle of sweat forms at her temple and slowly makes its way down her cheek bone. Her mouth is groping like a fish out of water and he eyes are wide with awareness. She begins to undulate along my length with rapid motions and I can tell she ready to cum. She is going to orgasm too quickly and I need to help her out and so I roll over and find myself on top of her. He pants are completely off her feet now and she wraps her slim legs around my waist as I grind myself deeply into her and she has enormous trouble holding her tongue. I place a hand at the small of her back and lift up slightly as I drive myself deep inside of her. I bury my head into her chest and find her nipples through the thin fabric. She removes her blouse and gathers her breast together so that I may drink of her. I taste her milk as she begins wave after wave of orgasm. I know how to keep the flow of her orgasm lasting for at least twenty minutes and delight in doing so. I seem to suck her tits dry as I move from one nipple to the next. She is grabbing the back of my head by my hair and pulling, and she is clawing my back with her nails. The heels of her feet are digging into the small of my back as she rides with my body and I let myself loose inside of her. I pump a weeks worth of semen into her and she is leaking all over the place. When we are done we lie there in a heap. We have to control our breathing least others discover our act. In these days of ultra conservancy it is best to walk softly and keep quiet. "Thank you," she whispers into my ear, "I needed that." When we have regained our composure and Pilar has put her pants on again, we lay in each others arms and let the rocking of the ship lull us to sleep. Just before we drift off, Jason reappears and snuggles next to his mother. As I close my eyes for the night, the last image I see is of the thin line of camp fires on the beach. I am dreaming. In my dream I am with Pilar and Jason on a piece of land somewhere where there is snow falling. We are walking hand in hand and we are playful and happy, but I hear people far off screaming and yelling. We look around and try and find where it is coming from, but we can't see it. The screams are everywhere and we can't see where it's coming from. Pilar slaps the side of my face and it wakes me with a start. It is near sunrise and I hear people screaming all around me. I jump up to my feet and see the camp fires on the beach, but I also see people running everywhere. I can't make out what is happing and everybody on board is shouting and screaming. Then I realize that there are scores of people who are killing everyone on the beach. They are using guns and machetes and just chopping people apart. It is horrible. There are several boats on their way to us filled with people and we are yelling at them to hurry up before they get us. That's when I see the first rocket. It is a hand held rocket like the old Larrs missile widely used in the late twentieth century. Its fiery tail is almost pretty as it seems to lazily achieve its velocity and bears in on its target. One of the small boats on its way to us erupts in an explosion of water and metal. Most of the people on board are instantly killed. There are thousands of people on the beach and they are all being slaughtered. Women and children, I have never seen such carnage in my life. I see the telltale sign of three more missiles being launched. People on board want to run and hide, but the ship I full of people and there is no where to go. The throng of people crushes against us and I make sure that I have both Pilar and Jason in my arms as the swell of people press against us. Everyone is screaming at the top of their lungs and clawing to get away from the rockets. Two of the rockets hit small boats in the water on their way to us and the third hits the surface of the ship not thirty feet from where we are standing. The explosion is deafening and bodies are flung into the air all around us. Whole waves of people are mowed down by chunks of metal flung from the blast and I hear Pilar's voice catch and see in her eye the instant of her death. I also feel her son slide from my grip. Both of them are dead and I don't understand why. Flames lick at the throng of people left alive and people are scrambling to put out the fire. I find myself bent over the prone frames of Pilar and her son and find myself weeping uncontrollably. All of a sudden the sky is full of military aircraft of all kinds. A lot of helicopters and fixed wing aircraft and I now know that the planets stage of military development is stuck in the internal combustion engine and the consumption of fossil fuels. "How antiquated" I say. Pilar's blood is flowing freely over me now as I cry over the tow of them and hug them close to me. On the beach there is a military action going on that is aimed at the violence being waged upon the Mongrels and their mothers. It is just as savage an attack as those who are killing the infants. It all looks so senseless to me. I am not coping well with this. Hands grab me and pull me away from Pilar and Jason and I protest but they drag me away. It is then that I notice that the last two fingers of my left hand are missing and that there is a large portion of my leg that is bleeding profusely. "How strange" I say and pass out. When I wake up I find myself in what would have been the dinning room of the cruse ship and there are several hundred of my fellow passengers there with me convalescing. I look at my left hand and see it is wrapped up tightly and that I appear to have all five fingers, yet I can't feel them. I check my left leg and see it too is wrapped up. Pilar's blood had dried on my clothes and there is a stench that comes off of them. The leg of my jump suit has been cut off just above the wound and the whiteness of my skin is bright against the dull green skin dye. No one seems to care who or what I am; there are people in this room who will not live out the night. Death is everywhere. I do not want to die so I make an attempt to get to my feet. I try several times but I am unsuccessful, so I just lie there. Several hours go by and I see an official looking face stare into my eyes. "How do you feel?" "OK I guess. I would like to get out of here." "Sorry, bub, but your staying until I'm sure that your new fingers work. How's the leg?" She touched my leg and I made a slight jump at the jet of pain from her touch. "I see, we might need a little more pain killer over here. We replaced a lot of the muscle in you thigh. I saw you trying to stand up and I must applaud your efforts. Most don't try that for at least a week after surgery. Even then, they should wait at least two weeks for the fibers to knit properly." "Who are you?" I asked. "I am Captain Gottle, chief medical officer of the Esmeralda." "The hell you say." She produced a hypo injection gun and slipped in a cartridge and injected it into my leg and instantly I felt better. "You were lucky. Remember that." Then she stood up and walked away. After a while, I found someone in the immediate area that I could talk to and found out that almost everyone on the beach had been slaughtered. The estimates of the dead ran to four thousand eight hundred and two of the cruse ships had been sunk. They are still tallying the numbers for those. The military had stepped in and guaranteed our journey to the southern borders of the state and offered to repair the damage done on this and another ship. They also provided medical assistance and food and an escort from the carrier, Esmeralda. We had been at sea for three days before I woke up. The navy will stick with us for at least another week and then they will turn back. We were headed for a sub artic environment on a series of islands just below the artic circle. I was told the names of them but for the life of me, I couldn't pronounce them if I tried. They were originally settled by Indians and they developed a substance life style that lasted for ten thousand years. Then the people of Arimov moved in and decided that it was too crowded for the two of them so they exterminated the entire culture. The Arimov was an aggressive people whose whole existence was based on warfare. Between the Zamanow and the Arimov they successfully killed off any other culture or civilization that had existed prior to them. The Zamanow took over the northern hemisphere and the Arimov took over the southern hemisphere. One day, the Arimov decided that they wanted the northern half as well. This resulted in a war that lasted for almost two decades and millions were killed and an entire male population rendered sterile. Christ, when these people went to war they really mean business. Basically, one half of the entire planet was barren of people due to the perceived toxic waste from the war. I cornered Captain Gottle and asked her what her take was on the left over toxins and she shrugged and told me what I already knew. That of all the areas tested; there was no lingering residue of toxin anywhere. However, only a few select sites were ever tested and where we were going was not one of them. On the bright side, it is doubtful if any toxin at all was used on the islands, though no one can be sure owing to the fact that any and all records died or was destroyed during the war. I cornered her and asked her if she would live there, and she answered, "Only with a gun to my head." The navy left us when we reached the Arimov waters and I said goodbye to Captain Gottle. Due to rough seas and high wind it took us several weeks to reach our port. One thing that the navy did for us that was delightful was to outfit each and every one of us with clothing that was appropriate to our environment. I now owned something of value. I had a pair of boots that were water proof as well as pants and shirts and coats designed for intense cold. I couldn't wait. After being naked for five years I was now completely covered up. It was the end of the sub artic summer and winter was looming fast. Snow greeted us upon our arrival on the main island. I don't believe any of the people here ever felt cold or snow in their lives. It was a sobering experience for most. We took up residence in the empty city as we took stock of all our stores. We numbered three thousand six hundred and forty women and children. We had stores enough for the first month, after that, we were on our own. The past decade had taken its toll on the empty town and all the services had to be turned on once again. This was going to take a lot of time and effort to make it work, but if we wanted to live, we had to take control of our destiny now. We all gathered together on the docks to watch the cruse ship disappear over the horizon. Our last link with the north disappeared without a trace and we were left alone. One by one mother's left the docks to set up households for their children bidding each other the familiar greeting of "don't freeze to death". I began to think of what we had to work with and decided that a crude form of basic power was needed. I knew how to make a basic reciprocating fuel cell that would be adequate for the oncoming winter and promised myself that it would be first thing on my agenda in this frozen piece of real estate I now call home. I had set up housekeeping in a basement apartment near the docks. The insulation is a lot better surrounded with ground than up in a loft apartment. As I stepped into my place and tossed my coat and hat aside I mumbled to myself, "Welcome to the first day of the rest of your life."