5 comments/ 56874 views/ 21 favorites I Was An Amazon Sex Slave! By: Pussyrider As she stood astride my prostrate body I didn't really notice her face. My entire concentration at that moment was focussed on the tip of the hand blaster she held at arms length, pointing directly at my nose from a distance of less than half a meter. "Okay pretty boy, get your pants off." I was too stunned to move for a moment. Surely I couldn't have heard her right? The Amazons had just raided our station, the Pacifiers were sure to arrive at any moment – and she wanted me to strip? It's amazing the fine detail you notice when you're absolutely terrified: I actually saw the tip of her finger whiten as it tightened on the kill button of the blaster. She said, very quietly and menacingly, "I mean now, cocksucker." I don't think I had ever moved so fast as I did at that moment. Lifting my torso, bearing my weight on my shoulder blades and the soles of my feet, I tore at the belt of my uniform pants and thrust them down my legs, together with my undershorts. Her dark eyes left mine for a moment and flickered to my groin. She didn't look impressed. Well, you try getting sexually aroused when one of the most notorious terrorists in the Sol System is threatening to turn your head into a fine spray spattered across every surface in the room! This wasn't what I signed up for when I accepted a contract as a systems controller for the Northern Confed's Outreach Program. After three sols' dedicated study at Mare Criseum Academy, then a further two sols pretty much running the university's research program, I could have picked any job I wanted in the sentient technology field. I know for a fact that if I'd defected to Farside, to the huge Indochin station there, I could have earned enough creds to set up on my own in five sols. I even cast nostalgic eyes towards Terra. Like most of us Lunartics, born and bred on the planet's sole satellite, I felt a natural pull towards the crumbling sphere the nostalgics still refer to as Planet Earth. But also like a true Lunartic, I believed that the huge financial rewards such a move offered, together with the unique opportunity to experience natural air, simply didn't compensate for the discreds we'd all heard about: the Sun cancers; the landsink; the nuclear deserts; the 8 million deaths in the North American famine...even in stable regions life expectancy was reckoned to be no more than maybe 93 years (to use the archaic Terran term for sols). I could have joined one of the glocos. Apple-Virgin had just finished terraforming Enceladus, and I could have stared out of my office window at beautiful Saturn as I made my fortune and my new home world circled the planet every 1.5 T-days. Instead I decided to do the patriotic thing and go into Gov-serv. Okay, the pay was crap, and we got all the best technoware third-hand; but at least it offered job security, and a comfortable retirement for the 70 sols of loyal servitude I was expected to give. Well, I was shipped out to Titania – beautiful name, shithole moon, a mere 2.5 billion kilos from Luna – where I'd been bored out of my mind for two sols creating sentech solutions to nonsensical problems. Nothing exciting ever happened there – at least, it didn't until the Amazons came to town. Titania has a reputation Lunaside as a wild, crazy frontier zone. That's true if you happen to be located in Condoleezza, near the vast Ignacio Arroya mining complex. But our base, the Jayef-Kennedy Science Center, is more than 400 kilos away, in the shadow of Will Smith Scarp. (Every damned thing on the rock is named after some president of North America or other.) We'd heard about a couple of raids by the Amazons on settlements around Condi in recent months, but the Pacifiers had assured us on several occasions that given our isolation, and the fact that we were primarily a research facility, we were perfectly safe. Of course, our isolation also put us 30 kilos from the nearest Pacifier station in sleepy little Saphangthong. The Amazons actually call themselves the Daughters of Germaine, whatever the osama that means. The name they're commonly known by refers to some ancient tribe of Terran women, from the Brazilia Dustbowl I think. They claim to be 'a sisterhood of resistance to the phallocentric domination of humin (sic) society through the ages'. Perhaps they haven't noticed that the last three NorCon presidents have all been, well, clitocentric. In truth they seemed to be just a gang of women who liked killing men in enormous numbers; if the newswebs were to be believed, the more painfully and messily the better. They had started out on Terra hundreds of years ago, and were gradually spreading their way, in a loose coalition, across the Sol System. About a year ago we heard that a breakaway group had made it to Titania – and now the most infamous of them was staring at my flaccid cock with her blaster pointing into my face! There isn't an adult alive who hasn't seen the holimage of the dreaded Tawny the Cannibal. I know a number of guys who have downloaded it to abuse and humiliate on a nightly basis, in whatever way they choose – beating her to death, fucking her in every orifice...I had heard suggestions that she was on Titania, but I didn't believe it – until now. After all, reports of raids by the Amazons on half the settlements in the System included the fact that they had been led by Tawny. Even as this flashed through my mind she squatted between my legs and wrapped a fist around my dick. I squeezed my eyes shut and gritted my teeth in paralysing fear, wondering if I would pee myself as she sliced it off. It took me a few seconds to realise that she was actually squeezing and stroking it, calmly and efficiently trying to get a response. Despite my terror – or perhaps because of it – she succeeded. I watched amazed as my cock pointed stiffly towards the ceiling. Tawny ripped open a Velcro flap in her pants – apparently custom-made – and, well, proceeded to rape me. I stared at the ceiling, praying that I didn't disappoint her, as she squatted onto my rod and pumped up and down on powerful thighs, driving my ass hard against the cold floor. Not once did her eyes leave my face, and the tip of the blaster pressed painfully into my belly. Just as I felt my juices beginning to flow another Amazon ran into the room. "Tawny, mother of goddess! Pacos about five mins away. For fuck's sake get off that thing, kill it and let's get out of here." Tawny ignored the woman, and the warning of Pacifier intervention, entirely, her face completely impassive as she screwed me. My fear given an extra jolt by the knowledge that I would almost certainly die the moment it was over, I shot into her, causing no more than a wince to flash across her face, and awaited my end with my eyes tightly closed. But I felt her dragging me by my arm to my very shaky legs, and flashing very white teeth she leered into my face "Come on pretty boy, get your pants up. You and I are going to enjoy another ride together now." She dragged me through familiar corridors, past the occasional corpse, then through the air lock and into a large landhopper. I was hurled into a luggage container, and seconds later a pressure suit followed. Almost immediately the vehicle took to the air and I struggled into the suit. That would ensure I didn't freeze to death in the hold, but that was no guarantee of longevity once this ride was over. They must have a plan for me or they wouldn't have tolerated my extra weight, such as it was, in the vehicle. If I was lucky I would just be held for ransom, although it seemed unlikely NorCon would relax its 'no compromise with terror' stance for a relatively junior ST geek. If I was unlucky... I'd heard the miners, on my few visits to Condi, joking about the attractions of becoming Amazon sex slaves. I guess there's always been some kind of male fantasy about combative sex with strong, feisty women. Reality, as revealed by rare survivors liberated by the Pacifiers, was, not surprisingly, rather less attractive. Referred to as 'donks', they were forced to work for their captors, often in exhausting manual tasks, required to be available to sexually service whatever warrior might want them, when she wanted them, and the first time they failed to provide the required physical response they were casually killed. Despite Tawny's recent, er, use of me, I couldn't believe that, of all the guys at the Kennedy Center, I would have been selected for such a purpose. I was, well, I'd say wiry, less kind men might say, indeed had, a scrawny weed. There's no way I would be selected as a promising manual worker, my talents are all in my brain. Despite the cold and my fear I slept. When I awoke the vehicle was back on the ground, and apparently descending rough terrain. It had been rumoured that the Amazons' base on Titania was somewhere in the Clinton Void (otherwise known, for reasons lost to history, as Hillary's Mouth), a vast canyon which, seen from space, looks like an unfathomable, vicious tear across the surface of the moon. It's far too huge for the Pacifiers ever to have mounted any kind of realistic search and, cynics said, also far too deadly for the taste of our brave law enforcers. As the vehicle came to a halt I guessed that was where I was. I was dragged by my hair out of the craft and towards a large structure which seemed to serve as some kind of communal hall. As I went I got a brief glimpse of the base. It was open to the sky, protected by what appeared to be an ancient terrashield, in places visible to the naked eye and milky white. Even in the few secs I saw it I noticed a couple of sparks dance across the surface, and shuddered: however bad your situation, it's difficult to imagine anything worse than the surface temperature of minus 216 degrees Centigrade and the cocktail of deadly gases in the atmosphere penetrating the few microns thickness of the shield. The two women dragging me by the arms took me into a small dark room and dumped me on the floor. For the second time in a few hours I stared from a reclining position at Tawny. With a light from behind her turning her curly black hair into a halo, hands on her hips, legs set slightly apart, her pose was clearly intended to impress, and for all my fear of her it worked. If you can ignore for a moment her reputation as the most psychotic disemboweller of men in the universe (if!), she really is a very striking woman. The short, glossy hair; the bronze skin; eyes large and black, glinting like chips of flint; a slightly flat face with a slim nose, framed by prominent high cheekbones tapering to a sharp dimpled chin; sensual, fleshy lips; impressive musculature of her shoulders and bare biceps; a substantial swell of breast that her grubby grey combat fatigues did little to disguise. Gently she reached a hand under my elbow and helped me to my feet. Standing with her face centimeters from mine – we're both 1.83 tall - she murmured, "Okay pretty boy, here's the deal." A hand shot beneath the waistband of my pants and fingers like steel bands gripped my balls, just firmly enough to make my eyes water. "We need a good sentechnician to upgrade our rather antiquated systems; oh yeah, and to integrate one or two little pieces of hardware we just grabbed from Kennedy. We'd prefer a womin, but there isn't one available, and we heard you're the best around here. So," I gasped as the pressure on my balls increased a notch, "you give us what we need, and I'll do my best to keep you alive. Oh, and I also have certain needs that I prefer not to satisfy with the filthy donk shitbrains the other womin here use. So, you're going to meet those needs too. Okay?" It wasn't a question, and as if to seal the deal she smacked her lips onto mine and a muscular tongue thrust into my mouth and went on an exploratory mission. So the pattern of my life for the immediate future was set. By day I worked on trying to improve the performance of the camp's ST system, a task a bit like trying to build a stellar cruiser with wood and twine. I also used my hacking skills to clone useful routines from other people's systems, to try and make my task a little easier. The system appeared to be a random assemblage of bits and pieces grabbed on raids by someone with only the vaguest idea of what might and might not be useful. I guessed that was Donna. A vaguely pretty, petite but muscular blonde girl, she was my principal guard during the working day. She fancied herself as an ST whiz, but I rated her as only moderately intelligent – an IQ of maybe 160, 170. I tried not to think about what purposes the intel I was gathering, on the movement of freighters, prominent people, wealth and Pacifiers, was being put to. I was also allowed occasional exercise walks around the camp, and to use the fitness equipment that was available, enabling me to gradually put a few stringy muscles on my ectomorph body. The camp appeared to be on a ridge in the wall of Clinton, maybe 1.5 kilos across – stretching the dilapidated terrashield to its limit. A sheer rock face extended kilos above and, presumably, below the ridge. The far wall of the gorge was too distant to be seen. Around me the donks worked slavishly, and the women trained, planned raids, sabotage, assassinations. Occasionally some Amazon would stalk up to a random donk, grab the short leash that hung from his waist, and lead him unresisting to her quarters. Twice I saw the bodies of donks – what was left of them – being carried by their former fellows towards one of the perimeter airlocks. It served as a harsh warning to the survivors of what would await them the first time they couldn't provide the necessary degree of arousal. On my little tours of the camps I was able to pick up quite a lot of knowledge – general layout, security arrangements, number of Amazons, command structures, the way they planned, the kind of targets they identified, frequency of actions...if I did get out alive that sort of knowledge could finish them on Titania. In the evenings I was escorted back to Tawny's low-lit quarters. There I'd get my second meal of the day and, little by little, in her husky, strangely accented voice, my captor told me her life story, reflectively, staring into space. Then she would thrust me back onto her bed, work up my erection and screw herself on me before sending me to the small cot I had in one corner. Her sex with me was always quick and efficient. I was never quite sure how she did it, but with techniques of hand and mouth borne of years of experience, night after night she had me hard and ready for her in seconds. She thought she was maybe 23 or 24 sols old. She'd grown up on a remote farm in North Zeeland, back on Terra, slaughtering animals with her father from the time she could walk. When she was still a kid four drugged Pacifiers – 'Your Guarantee of Security and Justice' – had come by and raped and killed both her parents. As the fourth Paco took his turn with Tawny she managed to get a hand on his thermolance, instantly turning his belly to a smoking pit. Seconds later two severed heads hit the floor. The fourth one was badly wounded, but she kept him alive for a while. Form her graphic description of how she used that time I have no doubt he welcomed his death as a merciful release. After that she'd lived in the hills for a while, doing what it took to survive, then one day she'd gone into the local town and started selling herself. It was then that someone, unable to manage her birthname – Hokuikakai – had called her Tawny, because of the colour of her skin, and it had stuck. She'd managed to hop a sea freighter to Shanghai, being shared between the crew on a daily basis. After taking her revenge on all six of them on her last night aboard, she disappeared into the crowded streets of the city for a time. Then she lied about her age and got into one of the Volunteer Colonist programmes Indochin ran from time to time. That had got her as far as Phobos, where she'd worked in a bar but made far more creds working on men again, until one night when the Amazons raided the town, and her life changed forever... I listened in horrified fascination, like some reverse Scheherezade from the Tales of the Transislamia Nights, silently praying each time that tonight wouldn't be the night she got bored telling me this, and decided to kill me. She insisted vehemently that her nickname of The Cannibal was no more a myth attached to her by the newswebs to make her appear even more demonic. "I might carve a man's guts out before I kill him, but you have to keep some moral standards." I almost laughed at what I took to be ironic black humor; fortunately something in her eyes warned me of the instant fatality of such an action. It was clear that Tawny was one of the leaders of the group, but less clear why she alone seemed to be allowed her personal screw, let alone why she had chosen me. I suppose her name for me, 'pretty boy', partly explained it. Also, she was clearly intelligent, and would try to engage me in wider conversation about all kinds of things; which was fine as long as I never foolishly expressed an opinion which ran counter to any of hers. Some of the other women were clearly dykes, but most seemed to just satisfy themselves with a donk whenever the urge arose. I got the impression that the other women, with the possible exception of Donna, hated me with a vengeance, and I heard myself being referred to a few times as Tawny's toy. When one of the donks managed to whisper to me what he and his mates would do to my pampered little body if they ever got hold of me I understood that Tawny had her work cut out keeping death away from me. One night, as I lay on my cot, I was woken by the sound of raised voices – Tawny's and Donna's. It appeared that Donna was negotiating for my, er, services. "Look Tawn, I'm not trying to take it off you. I just want to rent it out now and then, and once I've fucked it I'll give it right back to you. It's worth, say, 300 creds a time to me." There was a scuffling sound and a small cry. I turned my head just enough to see a terrified Donna thrust against a wall, an old-fashioned steel blade pressed against her throat, the tip bright with a drop of ruby red blood. In a voice that turned my blood to ice, Tawny hissed "Listen Donna, Adem is not for sale, rent or anything else. If I even suspect that you've ever been within 50 meters of him again, your atoms are going to orbit Uranus for the rest of eternity. Am I getting through to you, 'sister'?" I lay back and stared towards the ceiling in surprise: I hadn't realised Tawny even knew my name. After that I didn't see Donna again. I had different guards and I heard that she had died about a week later on a raid, the victim of a stray blaster shot. There had been worrying mutterings about the details of that. A few nights after the incident with Donna, as I was returned to my home, as I had begun to think of it, I saw Tawny sitting on her bed with tears rolling down her cheeks. That was the most shocking thing I'd seen since being taken by the Amazons. I couldn't imagine anything that would upset Tawny enough to cry without resulting in instant, excruciating death. I stood paralysed, praying her tears were nothing to do with me. She glanced up and said, in an alarming, small voice, "Adem, come and sit here", patting the bed beside her. Now I was really scared – it was the first time she'd ever called me by my name. Placing a hand on my frozen shoulder, she gazed intently at me and whispered, "Adem, I want you to make love to me." Unable to help myself, I swivelled my head and stared at her in total incomprehension. She'd screwed me almost every night since she brought me back to the camp. She closed her eyes and sighed deeply, as if trying to figure out how to explain something to a small, particularly stupid child. "Look, I've fucked and been fucked by dozens of men. But nobody has ever, in my whole life, made love to me. Just once, I want to experience what that feels like." I Was An Amazon Sex Slave! She watched my every move as I stripped and showered. I was petrified with fear, convinced she'd gone insane. Her use of the term 'just once' had me pretty worried too. As instructed I lay on her bed and, incredulously, watched her take off her clothes. I had never seen her naked. As she reached her arms above her head to remove her undershirt I glanced up at the bobbing undersides of large smooth breasts; then down, past her taut ribcage and belly, to a thick patch of black hair. For the first time in months I felt my cock begin to twitch with interest, entirely of its own volition. I'd been fortunate at uni. While my fellow students mostly made do with holosluts or love cabinets, I enjoyed that rarest of experiences for an ST geek, the real thing. A female professor in her sexual prime – she was 72 when we first met – decided, for her own pleasure, to take me on as a project. She taught me everything I needed to know about her body and exactly what she liked. I felt that if I was going to survive this night of 'making love' to Tawny I was going to need to call on all those rusty skills. Tawny lay beside me and we kissed – I mean really kissed, not her just thrusting her tongue down my throat and waggling it around. She sucked my tongue into her mouth, and I felt my slowly inflating cock brush against her pubic bush. Then she slunk her head down onto my chest and sucked and nipped my nipples, which I found surprisingly arousing. After that it was my turn. I traced my lips down her throat and onto one of her big boobs, sucking the end into my mouth, swirling my tongue around the deep brown nipple. My other hand massaged the other boob, my fingers sliding down it to close around and squeeze that nipple. Tawny's breathing deepened and a hand curled in my hair, pulling it painfully then pushing my head lower. I dipped my tongue into her navel, my finger tips burrowing into her ass cheeks, and carried on down. As she began to slowly writhe on the bed I tracked my nose down her hairy mound, to the very edge of her slit... Then I changed my plan of attack. Dipping to the foot of the bed I took a big toe into my mouth. From the snarl she emitted I thought for a moment that my death was upon me, but I sucked hard on the toe, swirled my tongue around it, stroking my fingers across the soft skin between her other toes, and licked my way to her instep, caressing her powerful calf and Achilles tendon with one hand. I relaxed slightly as the growl turned into a long moan of arousal. I traced my tongue to her ankle, and up a muscular leg until I was nuzzling at her dusky inner thigh, my mouth millimetres from her blue-black pussy. By now her moaning had risen in pitch to an animalistic keening as she scrabbled in my hair with her fingers. I felt a curious, alien sense of power as, lifting my face, I ran my tongue the length of her slit, making her buck and yelp. I nuzzled her clitoris, then nibbled on it as I stroked two fingers in a circular motion around the inside of her cunt. A finger of my other hand slid into her backside and teased around the edge of her puckered anus. Her legs stiffened and her hips rose from the bed as her wailing increased in volume. Finally, I surged up her body, driving my cock – more painfully stiff than I could ever remember - into her with all my strength. As I slid up her I took her legs with me, lifting them over my shoulders. She howled as she stiffened, her head lashing from side to side, fingernails raking my back, then she seemed to relax. I kept pumping for as long as I could and, to try and extend my performance, trying to think of anything – ST sub-routines, how the Fermi Hoops might be playing – anything but the voluptuous body whimpering and squirming beneath me, soft breasts squashing into my chest. Finally I looked down at her really quite beautiful face, eyes closed, brow furrowed in concentration, her tongue lolling out as her breath came in roars, and I exploded into her like a thousand lasercannons. I collapsed onto her body and she hugged me crushingly to her, kissing me with genuine passion, tears streaming from her eyes. As we both came down from the high I again took one of those huge, very chewable nipples between my lips. I knew I must have been mistaken when I thought I heard her whisper "Thank you." Sensing her beginning to drowse I started disentangling myself to return to my cot; then I felt a restraining hand on my shoulder. "No, stay here tonight Adem – please." She actually said 'please' to me! So I spent the rest of the night in Tawny's bed, her arms wrapped around my waist, her nipples pressing into my back, her pubic hair tickling my ass, her legs, bent at the knees, pressed against mine. I lay wide awake terrified that I was spending my last night alive. In fact, from then on I spent every night in Tawny's bed. Sometimes we didn't even have sex. We'd just hold each other in our arms, chests nestling together, she planting small kisses on my face and smiling at me like a demented idiot. I never - ever – forgot that I was sharing a bed with a woman who had killed 172 men (excluding the unknowable numbers in the freighters, passenger liners and Pacifier ships she had shot down or sabotaged); but she was undeniably a very beautiful, passionate and, to my immense shock, affectionate lover. When it was to give pleasure, rather than simply to take it, she could do amazing things with the muscles of her vagina, milking my dick with her strokes, and create a little piece of heaven around my cock with her mouth. Of course I was still a prisoner, my life at her mercy, or that of any other Amazon who took a great enough dislike to me, but it wasn't the worst way to spend my incarceration! I noticed that she seemed to go on fewer raids than she used to. She was more happy to let the other women do that while she stayed back to run the camp. I also couldn't help noticing that casualties among the Amazons were starting to increase as the Pacifiers got wiser to them. One night I was awoken from a sound sleep by a hand shaking my shoulder. "Adem! Come on, it's time to go." Blearily I asked Tawny where we were going. Her answer was "Home." She sat on the bed beside me and, to my surprise, took my hand in hers, staring at it and playing with my fingers as she rather hesitantly explained. "Adem, I'm burned out. I can't do this like I used to, all the slaughter, never really getting anywhere, the friends I see not coming back...I've had enough, it's time to retire. Get dressed, we're going." Nervously I dragged my clothes on. Tawny had prepared a small pack which she gave me to carry. The camp was completely silent, and I was startled when another Amazon stepped into the pool of light outside the communal hall and, silently, beckoned us towards one of the shield airlocks. I saw it was Rori, perhaps the only woman who commanded as much respect in the camp as Tawny. Tawny hugged her and said "what will you say?" Rori grinned. "Close to the truth. I saw you and pretty boy sneaking out, I waited until you were up on the plain then I sent a remote out and vaporised you. Now get moving - and don't forget to trigger the hopper to blow once you're well clear of it." They hugged again and, still stunned at the turn of events, I allowed Tawny to lead me to a two-person microhopper. As we set off up the gorge, and headed out onto the plain, the back of my neck prickled, half expecting Rori to make good at any moment on her comment about the remote blaster. As Tawny drove and glided, dangerously fast, she explained her plan. "I've got a few million creds stashed away, for when I needed them. A couple of years ago I bought a little place in North Zeeland. Back on Terra where I come from. NZ's a long way south of the Death Zones, a beautiful, fresh climate. That's where we're heading for. I don't suppose you've ever been Terraside, have you? You've never seen an ocean, how amazingly blue it is..." She babbled on like that for most of the journey, while I wondered how she thought we – she especially – were going to get off Titania, let alone back to Terra. After a couple of hours driving I found out. She landed the hopper in the Dakota Fanning-DiCaprio Crater, and in the headlights I saw the glimpse of metal – a small interdisc shuttle, enough to get us up to Uranus, where we could hop a stellar cruiser. I began to realise Tawny had been planning this move for some time. She scooted into the back of the vehicle. For nearly an hour I sat watching Uranus rising across the sky, then I heard her voice calling a fanfare – "Ta-dah!" I turned to see a woman I didn't recognise. The tight black curls had been replaced by flowing long white blonde locks. The brown skin was now deathly white. She'd made here eyes look Chinese and thinned her lips. Gone was the bulky grey combat suit, to be replaced by a stylish red one-piece with a designer label. She even looked a lot slimmer and less curvy, like a gloco executive on her way home. I knew there wasn't room in the craft for a bodymorpher, even if the Amazons could have got hold of one, and I marvelled at the changes she'd achieved through pure cosmetics and styling. She was obviously pleased with herself at my reaction. She gave me a change of clothes, another designer one-piece, and decided that I should keep the beard, moustache and longer hair I had grown since being kidnapped. We were about to lock the ships for transfer when the hopper was bathed in light and we felt a jolt as the lock of a third ship connected with ours. The com desk came to life and a voice barked, "You're under arrest. Come through the lock with your hands where we can see them – one wrong move and you're vaped." Tawny looked at me in shock – and pulled a small hand blaster on me. "Adem, I want to believe I can trust you, but I can't take the chance. This will be on you the whole time. Keep your mouth shut and we just might get out of this." I couldn't see how she expected to talk her way out of a Pacifier arrest when they'd found us about to make an illegal take-off from an unauthorised site, but that was her problem. It looked as if my period of captivity was just about to end. As instructed we passed through the lock into the bay of a two-man Paco ship. The moment Tawny emerged a stun blast hit her squarely in the chest. She dropped to her hands and knees gasping for breath, her blaster skittering away from her across the floor. The young Paco grinned triumphantly as he kicked her viciously in the ribs, sending her sprawling. Not taking his eyes off her, he said to me "You're Dr Terek right? You're on our biogrid, so we knew you were on-board. We don't have a record for this one, so I guess she's one of the Amazon cunts who snatched you from Kennedy. We've been watching this area for two days, to see who'd come along for the shuttle." Glancing over his shoulder he gave me another grin. "Well congratulations Doctor, you're home free. Now I'm sure you won't object if I save NorCon the cost of a trial for this bitch." He raised his blaster and pointed it squarely between Tawny's eyes. I'm not sure who was the most surprised: Tawny, as her expression changed from sullen resignation to one of stunned bewilderment; the Paco, as his eyes and mouth widened in shock; or me, as I felt his warm blood gush slickly between my fingers. I had chanced on the knife – the one with which Tawny had threatened Donna – and stashed it, against the vain hope that I might at some point get the chance of freedom. Now, ironically, I had used it to murder the law enforcement officer who had been about to deliver my freedom. Tawny reacted first. Taking the man's blaster she headed for the cockpit. A second later I heard a shot and knew the second Paco had gone the same way as his colleague. Tawny came back into the bay and, to my mild surprise, hugged me to her and began running her hands and arms up and down my torso. "Come on baby, you're in shock but we've got to get moving. Chances are they were just a rogue patrol, keeping this little find to themselves for the glory, but we can't be sure." My legs didn't seem to want to work, and I couldn't detach my eyes from the drying blood on my hand, but she somehow pushed me back through the lock, and sat me down as she detached, re-attaching to the shuttle. I had begun to waken up by then, and understood her urgency when she propelled me towards the lock again. By the time the charge she had set vaporised both craft we were well above the surface of Titania. I realised that it would probably be hours before the Pacos were even missed. By that time we would be at Isinbayeva Base on Uranus, with different identities and two berths on a Terra-bound cruiser. The sight of the Pacific Ocean never ceases to enthral me. I find so many billions of gallons of water, so indescribably blue, simultaneously mesmerisingly beautiful and terrifyingly awesome. In fact, everything here is so much brighter, with such vivid colours, than anything on any other world I've seen. And the taste of natural air is also quite indescribable. The neighbours – the nearest is 8 kilos away – know I'm Dan, who made our fortune selling the ST business I'd built up Out There. I live here on our farm with my beautiful, loving Maori wife Kai, now six months pregnant with our second child. Generally we don't bother other people and they don't bother us – just as well, given the small arsenal of blasters concealed around the place! We tend the animals together, and Kai's quite happy slaughtering them. I enjoyed the taste of animal flesh the first time I tried it, although it took a while for my digestive system to catch up. The nervous itch at the back of my mind, that I might wake up one morning to find my throat slit, so to speak, has more or less gone away now. I just live each day as it comes, knowing I'm going to spend the rest of my days, however many there might be, and my nights with a passionate tigress who loves me and who, even in her delicate condition, can still do things with her mouth and her pussy that send me into orbit.