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Centauri

By: Amoronaut



***My first Literotica submission, I'm still learning the ropes around here. Also first time sharing my erotica. Please let me know if you would enjoy a sequel***



Darius Maxwell peered out of the rain spattered windows of his 87th floor apartment. The cool electric blues and greens of the city lights shimmered through the water droplets that drizzled down the glass panes. It was a fierce evening storm, punctuated by deep thumps of thunder and flashes of lightening. For hours the sky had been releasing its curtain of water upon the hustling metropolis that was New Paris. Not even a storm like this slowed these people down. There was always some business to attend in this town. Always another illuminated cantina with its flashing neon signs, offering stiff drinks and soft girls to ease the tensions of its patrons. Always another huff of spice to keep you going. Yes, this town never slept. And that was why Darius liked it.

Today Darius had business to attend himself. It had been over 6 years since he left the Bureau of Alien Investigations, but the information he had gathered there would follow him for the rest of his life. As with most government agencies, he wasn't allowed to speak about the majority of his work to civilians. Everyone was aware that mankind had encountered alien spacecraft on their colonization missions to Alpha Centauri, but few truly new how deeply involved the humans had become with their new found neighbors. The secrets were tightly kept by the Bureau. Leaks were swiftly plugged. Darius knew many of the Bureau's secrets, perhaps too many.

A sharp buzz went off at his front door.

Darius approached the entrance, and flipped on his view screen. A woman dressed in white and black stood in the hallway. As he suspected, she was right on time. He pressed another button to open the door.

"Good evening, Miss Lyon." he greeted.

He briefly took in her appearance. She was a slender woman, perhaps a few inches over five feet. Her golden blonde hair was pulled tightly into a bun atop her head, giving her a commanding presence. Only the slightest hint of dark green eye shadow decorated her eyes, and the rest of her face was clean of makeup. Her cheeks were smooth like the finest porcelain, but her skin was rather tan. Her lips puffed out like luscious red rose petals. A short sleeved white blouse, low cut to reveal the tops of her pert breasts, clung to the curves of her torso. Around her waist, she she wore a broad, black leather belt that accentuated her hips. Her leggings were a tight black fabric and the outfit was completed with black knee high leather boots. A beautiful woman, Darius thought.

"Mr. Maxwell," she said curtly, "good evening. May I come in?"

Darius stepped aside and motioned for her to enter. "I am surprised you elected to meet me here at my home, and not somewhere in public. I could could detain you here, or even kill you, and none would be the wiser."

"We do not consider you a threat, Mr. Maxwell." She did not look at him. 

Her boot heels clicked on the floor tiles as she walked into his apartment. The main room was spacious, and contained the living room, kitchen and an observing area with glass walls that overlooked the New Paris skyline. The apartment was penthouse style, with two floors and a high ceiling. Darius kept it pristine. He enjoyed a clean, open living environment, with room to move and to think. His furniture was modest but comfortable, and matched the flowing style Centaurians preferred. 

The woman's heels clicked toward the far window wall where Darius had been standing earlier. Rain continued to batter the glass. Her hand reached out and pressed against the cold, hard surface of the window, and she slid her hand along the pane of glass as she walked around the windows. Next, she turned her attention to the living room, and she moved around the curving furniture, again reaching her hand out to touch the surface. She stopped at the mantle on the far wall where something caught her attention. 

Darius watched carefully as the woman moved about his apartment. Graceful, calm. She had a poise about her that he found alluring. The sound of water hitting glass filled the room, until Darius spoke. 

"I play, of course. I have no wish to detain you...yet." He paused momentarily to gauge her reaction. Again, the woman did not avert her attention. "Your boss has taken great interest in the Coulari. One would think he wishes to speak to them directly, but I'm sure he knows that is impossible. What confuses me is why he thinks I can help him. My work involved keeping humans from becoming too nosy and prying into Bureau affairs. I never worked with the Coulari." He walked into the kitchen and opened a glass cupboard. "Care for a drink, Miss Lyon?"

She stood near the mantle, admiring a stunning piece of Centaurian holographic artwork. For a moment he wondered if she had heard him. Finally, she turned her head to look at him from across the room. "Yes, please." she said.

He reached up to the top shelf for two glass goblets. From his wine rack he chose a well-aged Earth blend of New Zealand currant and Australian honeysuckle, one of his favorite imports from home. Wine was not made in the Centauri system. Grapes were not able to grow on the planets here to do the particular spectrum emitted from Alpha Centauri, although the native Gaila berries made a flavorful alternative. He carried the bottle and two glasses into the living room and approached his guest. The woman remained facing the mantle with her back towards him, and he could not help but admire her physique. Her well arched back gave way to generous hips, and attractively shaped thighs. 

He stopped behind her and gazed over her shoulder at the mantle piece. A three dimensional sphere of green and orange plasma appeared to hover in place over a pool of bright blue neon liquid. The surface of the sphere twirled, pulsed and throbbed as if it were a living organ. Occasionally a droplet of bright colored liquid would leap out of the pool and up into the sphere, absorbed in a brilliant flash of color, while concentric rings spread out like waves upon the sphere's surface. The sphere was large enough to be cupped by two hands, but if one reached for it one would grasp only air.

"The hologram cost me nearly a whole month's salary. I have probably spent hours gazing into it, mesmerized. Abstract, but beautiful." he paused to let her finish admiring the artwork, then, "Wine?" he asked.

She turned and faced him. They stood about two feet apart and it was now her turn to take in his appearance. He stood about a foot taller than her, a man of moderate build, not extremely muscular but definitely fit. He was quite handsome, and seemed to be completely relaxed, which she found attractive. The follicles on his cheeks showed he used to have a beard and mustache, although now he was clean shaved. Short and shaggy brown hair gave him a boyish look. His shoulders were broad and well muscled, and his stance erect and proper. She noticed a bulge along his inner thigh, and assumed he was either carrying a gun or packing something sizable. An attractive man, she thought.

Reaching up to take the goblet of wine from his outstretched hand, her eyes met his momentarily, and he noticed they were intensely green. "Thank you, Mr. Maxwell." she said.

"Please, call me Darius." he smiled at her and took a seat on a red lounge chair, and motioned for her to sit on the sofa across from him.

"I prefer to stand." she said, taking a drink from her glass. With a sharp click of her heel, she abruptly turned her back toward him again, and took a few long, graceful strides across the room. "We believe you have information that you are withholding from us. About 8 years ago, you worked on a unit within the Bureau known as Capsilon X, correct?" She did not wait for him to answer, "As part of this unit, you were sent off world to conduct covert investigations into the locations of Coulari ships and outposts. Over a year you were away from the planet. We know that you were able to determine the location of several of their bases, and that you made contact with the Coulari." She stepped behind him, and stood over his shoulder. "Do you deny that, Darius?" she asked.

He stared into his glass in consideration, and said, "Capsilon X was an experiment. We know that the Coulari watch our every move, but refuse to make direct contact. Our mission was to force them into coming out of hiding. But it was a failure, we never contacted the Coulari." he drank his glass in a single gulp and poured himself another. 

She lay her hand on his shoulder and leaned close to his ear. "Is that a fact, Darius?" she whispered. 

Slightly startled by her tone, he turned his head slightly toward her and said, "Yes, Miss Lyon."

"Call me Michelle." she spoke softly in his ear. She did not move, but continued to lean close to him and breathed gently onto the side of his neck. He could smell the fruitiness of the wine. Darius remained still, and waited for her next move. After several moments, she leaned away and also finished her glass of wine. Then he heard her heels clicking across the floor, away from him toward the kitchen. He peered over his shoulder, his eyes going first to her elegant form, and then to her hands as he saw her reaching into his liquor cabinet. She pulled out a flask of dark brown liquor, and opened the glass cupboard to pull out two small cordial glasses, and walked back toward the living room. She stopped a short distance from his chair and bent from the waist to place the glasses on the coffee table in front of him. The cork she pulled off the liquor bottle made a loud pop.

"Let's have something a little bit stronger, shall we?" she said, looking at him intently. She filled both cups about halfway, and sat the bottle on the table. 

Darius watched her do all of this with interest. Her demeanor was unexpected. Her thirst for alcohol even more unexpected. He had thought to distract her with drink, and now she appeared to be trying to get him drunk. To his surprise, she grabbed one of the cordial glasses filled with liquor, lifted it to her lips, and downed the entire glass with a single toss of her head. She placed the cup back on the table and was pouring another before he had even reached for his. Her expression remained sober. 

"You are an intriguing woman, Michelle. I admire your spirit, and your thirst for spirit." He took the second glass and drank, feeling the hot liquor drain its way down his throat. He set the empty glass on the table, and craned his neck to speak to her. "Listen, I agreed to help your boss by providing what information I have on the Coulari, and so I presumed he sent you to interrogate me. Ask me whatever questions you have. Suck me dry for information, I will give you all I know. But don't accuse of me of lying, Michelle. That I will not tolerate." He poured himself another drink.

"I have not accused you of anything." she said calmly, "But you are right, I was sent to interrogate you." She reached for her glass and took a moderate sip. "What was the nature of this experiment you speak of, this mission of Capsilon X?" she questioned. 

Darius took a breath and leaned back in his chair. He responded, "The Bureau had been trying to find the Coulari for many years, I'm sure you are aware of that. Their method was brute force, a systematic sweep of the Centauri system, scanning each sector one at a time. While we doubted we would actually find any of their ships, the hope was we would find at least a trace of their presence. A propulsion trail, a piece of hull debris, an electromagnetic disturbance; anything that might indicate what areas the Coulari tend to pass through. The effort proved fruitless, however, and the search was called off about 10 years ago. That was when the idea of Capsilon X began to take shape. Rather than hunt for the Coulari, Capsilon X would attract them."

Michelle folded an arm under her breasts and stuck a heel out, and asked, "How would Capsilon X attract the Coulari?"

"By offering them something they couldn't resist." he said, "Human specimens."

"Live human specimens? Yourselves?" she prompted. Something about her tone seemed off to him, seemed to be leading him.

"Yes, we ourselves were planned to be captured."

"But they didn't take the bait." she said.

"No, they must have realized the ruse for what it was. Or they simply weren't interested."

She took a step towards him, and crouched in front of him, with her arms outstretched and placed on the chair arm. "Darius, what if I told you that they did take the bait, and that you were captured. All of Capsilon X was, but you just don't remember?" she peered steadily into his eyes.

He looked down at her curiously. He noticed how sharp her green eyes were, like perfectly cut gems, they did not quiver in the slightest. Her face remained constant, but he noted a look of sincerity. At that moment, he could not help but admire her beauty. Maybe it was the alcohol doing its work on his brain, but he wanted to reach down and pull her closer to him. With a shake of his head, he realized he had been staring at her for at least ten seconds without saying a word. He was becoming distracted.

"That's not possible. We would have known. Our ship would have recorded an encounter in its data banks and transmitted it back to Centauri." he continued to look at her eyes.

"Have another drink, Darius." She remained crouched in front of him, and reached behind her for the flask. Darius finished his cup and then thrust it out to her.

"Your ship did record an encounter," she held his gaze while pouring the liquor, "in fact it recorded several. Your mission was a success, but the Bureau never told you." 

"How do you know this?" he asked.

"That isn't important. But you must believe me, Darius." she touched his leg. "The Bureau realized that the Coulari would never take you if you were aware of your own mission. So they implanted a memory inhibitor in your frontal cortex that they could activate at the appropriate time. You agreed to have this implant installed." 

Darius stood up abruptly. "You're lying."

Michelle rose as well. "No, I'm not. Shall I prove it to you?"

He stared at her doubtfully. 

"Here," she said, setting her drink on the table, "kneel down in front of me. Please."

Unsure of her intent, but finding himself trusting her, Darius did as she asked. He took one knee in front of her and found himself eye level with her hips. She placed her soft hands on his head and began to squeeze his scalp. Touching just above his right temple, she began to press harder, and work her fingers in a circle. He felt a slight pain from this. With her other hand, she pulled the skin tighter across his temple and lifted up his hair. 

"There. Right there, you feel that?" she pressed a finger into his temple. A sharp pain went through his scalp, as if he were poked with a pin. 

"Ah, yes." He said, flinching. 

"That is the implant. Hardly noticeable, but it is there. If you have a scalpel or sharp knife, I can remove it. However, I'm sure the Bureau would be alerted. I don't know what they would do, or how fast they would react. They may send agents immediately." She removed her hands from his head. 

He reached up to touch where she had revealed the implant to be, so he could tell for himself. Indeed, it was there. How had he not noticed it before? If Michelle was telling the truth, then the implant had been in his head for eight years. Eight years! Who knows what other memories the Bureau had taken? What else had they made him do without his knowledge? Darius was dumbfounded. He knew that the Bureau often removed memories from people who knew too much or who stumbled across knowledge they shouldn't have. But the technology worked externally and was a single use that involved strapping a person in a chair and hooking them up to several electromagnetic instruments. He had never heard of an implant that could permanently control a person's memory. Ethical behavior was never a core value of the Bureau, but this was on an entirely different level. Not to mention using it on their own agents!

"Never mind the Bureau. Will the memories come back when the implant is removed?" he asked.

She nodded, "We believe they will, but they may take time. You have no chance of remembering while the implant is in place, because the Bureau is still in control of it. As long as the memory inhibitor is in your brain, the Bureau can control your memory like they would the hard drive on a computer. They can lock you out of whatever memory they want, Darius." A look of regret seemed to cross her face, and her eyes turned momentarily to the floor. 

"It is an awful piece of technology. One I hope to make the Bureau pay dearly for some day for using." Her face glazed over and became redder as she mulled the thought. 

Darius saw her curse under her breath, then she turned back to regard him. "Once the implant is removed, you will begin to recover your memories. They may return instantly, or may take several years, it is impossible to say. But we do know they will return." she stared at him, wondering what his decision would be.

"So this is the real reason why you were sent," Darius said, "to retrieve my memories. That is the real information you are interested in."

"Yes, that is true. At least that is what my agency is after." She touched his arm, "But I have another reason. A personal reason. Do you have a scalpel?" she asked.

He looked at her inquisitively. 

"Yes." 

He walked out of the room briefly, and returned a few moments later carrying a black canvas pouch. Setting it on the table, he unzipped it and opened it to reveal a small suture kit. The pouch contained a scalpel, several small blades, scissors, sutures, tweezers, surgical tape and needles. 

"Have you ever performed a suture before, Michelle?" he asked.

"Once. Its alright, I have steady hands." she reassured him."

"Good, I hope the alcohol hasn't gotten to you too much. If you don't mind, I'm going to have another before we start." he said, and reached for the bottle of liquor.

"Go ahead." Michelle knelt at the table and began to go through the suture kit. Darius poured himself another drink and sat back in the lounge chair. It occurred to him that her story might still be a hoax. His hands touched his temple again, feeling for the implant. He could feel the small squarish lump under his scalp. Something was definitely there, he could feel the tiny bits of circuitry beneath the skin. That much of her story was true, at least. Despite his doubts, he somehow found himself trusting her implicitly. Why, he was not sure. He watched her gather the suture tools in silence, her small hands preparing the needle and string. Her body was slim and graceful. Her legs were supple, yet strong. Her skin was smooth as the most well polished marble. It was her eyes that struck him the most. Those fierce emerald orbs. When he looked into her eyes, he could feel her fire and her passion. 

"I'm ready when you are, Michelle." he said, putting down his empty glass.

"Good, relax. It will only take a minute." She walked around the right side of the chair, and lay her hand on his head, feeling for the implant. When she found it, she steadily raised the scalpel to his skin and made two small, perpendicular cuts. With the tweezers she lifted up the skin, took hold of the implant, and removed it with a swift tug. Darius winced at the sharp pain. 

"There, it's done. Let me stitch this up." she said.

He let her do her work in silence. As she worked the suture, he closed his eyes as a wave of euphoria began to wash over him. At first he thought it was the alcohol, but it soon began to feel more intense. Flashes appeared in his vision, and a high pitch ringing began in his ears. He blinked rapidly, and tried to hold his head steady while Michelle finished the suture. Suddenly an image appeared in his mind. 


Centauri Ch. 02



I hope you enjoy Chapter 2, as more of Darius' memory returns. The plot is thickening in this Chapter, so please be sure to read Chapter 1 to know what is happening! ~Amoronaut

*

His brain hurt, as if someone were trying to squeeze his frontal lobe into a glass jar. Just moments ago, a small piece of circuitry about the size of his fingernail had been surgically removed from a few millimeters underneath his scalp. It was a neural memory inhibitor, which had been blocking his memories for the past eight years. Forgotten images were beginning to percolate into his awareness like water dripping from a clogged hose. He could feel the build up of neural pressure in the back of his head, as if there were too many memories trying to flow into his awareness all at once; far better that they did not, as he surely would have blacked out.

As the memories entered his awareness, they were random and out of chronological order. Darius could hardly make sense of them. In many of the images he was on board a starship, the vessel used by the Bureau's covert operations team to spy on the Coulari; a team called Capsilon X. Darius had been the commander of team and of the starship, which he now remembered had been called the Thames.

Different images reminded him of a planet, in an environment he'd never seen before. A vast landscape devoid of any trees or tall vegetation, with ground covered in a bright green-orange moss stretching as far as the eye could see. A large alien planet loomed in the sky over head -- he must have been on a moon.

Aliens stood around him, wearing dark armored tech-suits and holding assault rifles. They were reptilian, with heads like to ancient extinct Earth dinosaurs. Bright blue light came from their narrow eye slits, and cybernetic implants sprouted from their exposed necks and faces. Metal plated tails with grotesque looking spikes of bone sprouted from the back of their tech-suits. These were the Coulari, he remembered; a fierce and terrifying race.

As Darius was coping with the influx of memories, Michelle sat next to him on the sofa and watched him silently. She could tell he was disoriented.

"You'll be fine in a few more moments." she reassured him, placing her hand on his shoulder, "The first waves are always the most uncomfortable."

Darius lingered in disorientation for a few more moments before the flow of images finally slowed, and eventually stopped. He felt as if he had woken up from a long and intense dream, only being able to recall scattered bits and pieces. Confusion and frustration mounted quickly, but on one memory stood out in his mind clearer than the rest - the vision of him with Michelle in his cabin on the ship, lying next to her in his bed.

The memory was crystal, and felt like it happened only yesterday. Her caressing touch, her supple breasts, her orgasmic moans, were all so vivid in his mind. They had been lovers, even though it was entirely against Bureau protocol for two squad members to be involved romantically. He could not recall how they became involved, but his feelings for her were suddenly ripe.

Darius looked at her intently as he thought about the memory. She was incredibly beautiful, with rich blonde hair pulled tightly into a knot behind her head. Her face was smooth and relaxed, with sharp green eyes. Her white blouse clung gracefully to her body, and was cut just low enough to reveal the flesh of her breasts. How could he possibly have forgotten this woman? He felt a sudden urge to embrace her that he couldn't resist.

Spontaneously, Darius reached out his strong arms out and pulled her body tight against his own. She didn't resist, and let him hold her.

Their lips met passionately; a kiss by two lovers who had been separated from each other for far too long. She grabbed a thick tuft of his hair as she leaned into the sensual kiss. How greatly she had missed his strong and skilled hands! Michelle prided herself on her ability to resist most men, but it felt good to fully relinquish herself to his generous embrace. He placed his right hand on the back of her neck, and held her head as he kissed her soft lips. She put a leg over his and pushed her breasts against his chest. The heat of that libidinous moment felt amazing for both of them. In that instant, Michelle became confident that he would remember everything.

They continued to kiss her for several minutes, moist tongues and lips locked in an amorous interplay, bodies rubbing heavily against one another. Finally the moment ended, and Darius adjusted her so she was sitting on his lap, her warm hips resting on his thighs, and their eyes met. Her arms lay draped across his masculine shoulders and she gave him a loving look.

He was dashingly handsome, with dark hair and chocolate eyes. His face was shaven, with a slight bit of stubble. She remembered him more with a beard, but he remained very attractive as he was now. His features seemed to give him an air of lofty courage and wisdom. She smiled at him slightly, and bit her lip. She had to admit, it had been a long time since she had felt these feelings. Her emerald eyes were fierce and steady as she looked at him, ready for what was coming next.

Darius finally spoke, "I remember us, Michelle. Or at least, the feelings have returned," he said to her, "But the memories are short, I can only recall a face here or a voice there. I can't remember how I ended up in the places I'm seeing in my thoughts," he shook his head in frustration. "It doesn't make any sense."

"That's to be expected, dear," she said, caressing his face gently. "You are not going to be able to make sense out of eight years of memories in a few minutes, or even a few days. It will take a while Darius. But the important part is that you are remembering."

Her voice trailed off as she paused. She looked at him gravely. "Others have not had such luck.

"Others? Do you mean other members of Capsilon X?" he asked.

Her expression turned sour. "Not of the team as you knew it. Anders, Glass, and Cooke died shortly after the start of the mission, murdered by the Coulari after they were experimented on and tortured. Hodgson went missing after the first encounter, captured and never heard from again. We have no way of knowing if he is dead or alive. You and me are the only members of the original team remaining. Another team was formed to continue the mission, and we were able to successfully extract some of them from the Coulari and remove their memory inhibitors."

She stopped in order to gauge his response. Darius was staring distantly at the carpet as she spoke.

The memories that had returned to him were slowly crystallizing in his mind. He remembered the team now. There had been six of them all together; Anders, Glass, Cooke, Hodgson, himself, and Michelle. They were all young, barely past teenagers, ready to take on whatever blind mission was thrown at them. They had been hand picked by the Bureau for the extremely risky and most likely one-way mission of infiltrating the mysterious Coulari, who had been blamed for the numerous disappearances of Centauri Prime citizens and starships. Each time a "disappearance" or "abduction" occurred, a Coulari ship would materialize seemingly out of nowhere, and remove people from starships with some kind of subspace teleporter; sometimes they would take an entire ship. Nobody knew where the abductees were teleported to, only that they vanished without explanation and were never seen again.

So the Bureau devised a plan.

They would send out a team of six people, implanted with neural inhibitors designed to control their memory so that when the team was captured, they would have no recollection that they were actually undercover agents on an espionage mission. To the Coulari, and even to the team members themselves, they would appear to be ordinary humans on an exploratory asteroid mining mission.

Their starship, the Thames, was crafted to look like a typical mining vessel, but in reality carried highly developed sensing equipment that would gather intelligence on the Coulari and send it to the Bureau back on Centauri Prime. In addition to blocking access to their memory, the neural implants in the crew were connected to the Thames' through a quantum-linked communicator. Whatever the crew saw, the Thames also saw and broadcasted back to the Bureau.

In this manner, they would be able to monitor everything the crew was experiencing, all while keeping them oblivious to the true nature of their mission.

"So what about you? How was your neural implant removed?" asked Darius.

"It was my boss, Strafe, He extracted me from the Coulari about 6 months after our abduction seven years ago. As you know, his actions are independent of the Bureau."

"Strafe...right, I should have guessed. He always has been able to beat the Bureau at its own game."

He paused for a moment, taking in this new information.

All of this had occurred seven years ago, and clearly a great deal had happened since then. She was working for Strafe now, whose agenda was still unknown to Darius. He was sure Strafe must have collected a significant amount of information on the Coulari by now if he had been gathering up former Bureau personnel from the Capsilon X mission.

But why had it taken him this long to try to get to Darius, who hadn't been with the Bureau for six years? Surely if he was able to snatch Michelle from the hands of the Coulari then he would also be capable of subverting Darius without catching the Bureau's attention.

"And what about me?" he asked. "I've been on Centauri Prime for the past six years. Strafe could have approached me whenever he wanted. Why wait until now?"

"Because you haven't been on Centauri Prime for the past six years, at least not continuously. The Bureau has still been using you for espionage missions against the Coulari. You don't remember any of it because of the neural inhibitor, but you have a special relationship with the Coulari, Darius. You are the only person that they have ever let return to Centauri Prime of their own accord. They return you, and then without any warning they take you back. It has been going on for six years. You have been taken and returned at least a dozen times. We don't know exactly why, but clearly, you are some sort of use to them." She trailed off, and became lost in thought.

Countless times she had thought of coming to him to make some vain kind of attempt in reminding him of the love they used to share. Her memories, of course, had returned to her after Strafe had rescued her over six years ago. But she knew it would be hopeless to come to Darius as long as the memory inhibitor was in place; he wouldn't remember anything about her. Plus, she couldn't let the Bureau know she was still alive. As far as they were concerned, she was just another casualty of the Capsilon X mission; another missing crew member. If she tried to approach Darius before the time was right, they would find her out, and everything she and Strafe had been working for would be in jeopardy. So she had tracked him from afar, waiting for the opportune time to step in and intervene. Finally, today, that time had come.

Darius' grim face appeared dubious; it was difficult to believe what she had told him. He had a special relationship with the Coulari? It made no sense to him. But now that the neural inhibitor had been removed, soon he would be able to access all that had been denied to him over these long years..

"This is heavy, Michelle," he said after a long breath and exhale. "Very heavy."

He continued to hold her on his lap; it felt good to have her close - felt comfortable.

He moistened his lips, and said thoughtfully, "This is like waking up from a crazy dream, only to find out you are in an even crazier dream. And you...what the heck have you been doing these past six years? Surely you've found comfort with another man. I wouldn't expect you to hold out for me." There was sincerity in his deep voice.

She frowned slightly at his question and looked away. "Well, yes, but not like the way you put it. There have been other men, of course...I'm only human. Six years is a long time, one needs release. But there hasn't been anyone else that has touched me the same way you have, Darius. I've been waiting for this to happen for a long time."

She touched his chest and his torso with her hand, looking at him with a sense of longing. He knew that she meant every word.

"I have to admit, I was deeply worried that you wouldn't remember, or that the feelings would not return. You have no idea what it means to me that it has come back to you so easily," she said.

He touched her side softly. "It is a hard sensation to describe. As soon as you walked through my door tonight, it was like I knew something deep down, even though I had no recollection of our past relationship. And then when you pulled that damn tiny computer from my head and the memories started coming back, it was like we had only separated yesterday. I don't know how I managed for six years."

He laughed slightly and smiled at her.

"Well, I would have waited longer."

Without warning, a wave of euphoria washed over Darius' vision. His eyelids sagged heavily, and he lost all support in his neck. He slumped to the side as his apartment and Michelle faded out of his vision.

A light reappeared in his consciousness, and he lifted his head to look at his new surroundings.

The first thing his eyes took in was the brilliant night sky over his head. Countless millions of twinkling stars were strewn across a palette of deep red and blue hues. The veil of night was not black in this region of space, but glowed softly with the luminescent gases from long dead stars. A large peach colored planet hung above the horizon, forming a partial crescent that was bright enough to illuminate the ground beneath him.

He recognized it as the planet he had seen in one of the memories that had returned to him; it was the moon again, with the green-orange moss spreading out in all directions, fluorescing gently in the planet-light. Was this a Coulari world?

He lay on the ground, his back up against a large boulder. He was holding a gun, an assault rifle, and wearing a dark tech-suit of armor. A bright white energy seemed to flow through the circuitry of the suit. Darius knew by intuition that it was augmenting his bio-functions. The atmosphere on the moon felt thin, as if his skin were pushing out on itself slightly. Certainly there was not enough oxygen to support his normal respiration; the suit must have been oxygenating his blood directly.

As he became more aware of his surroundings, he noticed someone was sitting next to him. He turned to look, and saw that it was Michelle. She also wore a tech-suit, with its pearly white light providing a gentle luminance about her, and held an assault rifle at the ready in her hands. They were taking cover behind a moss covered boulder.

"This is bad," she said to him. Her voice seemed shallow in the tenuous atmosphere. "We can't stay here much longer. They are going to flank us. We need to find better cover."

"Yea, you're right," he responded, and gestured in the direction they were now facing. "What about that complex we saw over the hill to the south. Should we make for it?"

"We certainly don't stand a chance here, do we? I say we do it."

A deep blast suddenly went off a few hundred feet from them, sending subtle tremors through the ground and into their legs. Bright golden showers of sparks erupted over head as artillery shells burst in the atmosphere in tumultuous bangs. Opposing forces were preparing to penetrate their position, and they knew they could not remain exposed as they were for much longer.

Darius looked to his left and then to his right. A lone Coulari soldier remained with them, also crouched behind a boulder some forty feet to the east. It knelt low to the ground on one reptilian knee, holding its rifle in its clawed hands and peering around the boulder with its raptor-like head and blue glowing eyes. Its spiked tail curled high over its head and swished through the air in steady rhythm. The Coulari soldier also seemed eager to be moving.

Darius looked at Michelle and nodded, "Alright. Let's stay low and make a run for it. They will see us for sure...it's a risk. When we make it over the crest of the hill, we can sprint the rest of the way to the facility."

"There's no guarantee we will be able to get inside when we make it there," Michelle reminded him.

"We'll just have to figure that out when we get there."

Darius reached down and grabbed a nearby rock. Turning the opposite direction, he hurled it toward the Coulari soldier behind the boulder on their left. To his frustration, the rock sailed over the reptile's head and continued for another hundred feet before finally falling to the ground.

"Fuck!" he swore. "Curse this bloody moon and its low gravity!"

Grabbing another rock, he threw again, this time with half the strength. The rock landed a few feet before the soldier and skipped into its leg. His attention caught, the soldier beamed its blue eyes toward them, and lowered its tail slightly in curiosity.

Darius made a signal with his arm toward the hill in front of them. Understanding, the soldier slicked its forked tongue in and out of its mouth quickly, and nodded.

He held up his hand with three fingers spread out as much as he could manage, hoping the soldier would understand. Motioning towards the hill, he began a silent countdown with his hand, and when he put down his last finger, he grabbed Michelle by the arm and together they ran in a low crouch toward the top of the hill.

The trio ran for a mere five seconds before flashes of energy started to whiz around them, leaving black scorch marks in the moss at their feet. They didn't dare slow their pace, for their lives hung by a hair. As they neared the crest of the hill, blasts of white energy seemed to be hitting the ground on all sides of them.

This is it, Darius thought, it's all going to come to an end right here on this god forsaken moon.

Suddenly there was a sharp screech to their left, and they saw that their Coulari companion had taken a blast to the leg. Down to the moss the reptile fell, clutching at its lower appendage. Not more than two seconds after it had fallen did three more energy blasts come barraging in, one hitting it in the shoulder and two in the chest. Its last dying movements were to try to aim its rifle to return fire, but a final blast took it in the head, and it was gone forever.

Michelle and Darius looked on in panic, but they could not hesitate even for a moment. A few more hurried steps brought them to the top of the hill, and they both dived beneath the crest as weapon fire sailed over their heads.

Together they rolled out of control down the hillside. Their momentum did not seem to slow, for each time they hit a bump they were carried several inches into the air. After a few seconds of this wild, out-of-control tumble, they came to a stop, tightly grasping each other's arms. They looked up, and saw their destination a few hundred feet ahead. Darius knew that they were the last of the battle line, and that nothing stood between them and the enemy aside from the meager hilltop they had just put between them.

Without hesitation, they both rose to their feet and sprinted full out to the structure before them.

In a rush, they ran right into the front entryway, desperately hoping they would be able to get inside. The door was made out of a polished grey metal. Darius rapped on it hard with his fist. Michelle noticed a small illuminated console to the right of the door, and quickly tried to decipher it. As she touched it, the panel went from white to red, clearly denying her access.




Centauri Ch. 02



"Fuck!" she swore, and punched the panel with her gloved knuckles. The console exploded in a shower of sparks.

"This isn't going to work!" she said.

"Let's run around the side, now!' Darius huffed.

Linking hands, they dashed around the side of the building, frantically looking for a way inside. Any moment the enemy would come over the hill. They needed to get into the building or find a way to hide soon, or it was all over.

As they moved around the outside of the building, they happened on a magnificent stroke of luck. In a doorway lay a dead Coulari, his body obstructing the door from fully closing. They didn't bother to stop and see what had killed him or to wonder if another danger was lurking inside. Quickly, they dipped through the doorway.

Immediately they were halted by another door. This one was made out of a transparent, glass-like material. Darius knew what the room was, and motioned to the dead Coulari in the doorway.

"Quick, move him out of the way!" he implored to Michelle.

Obeying, she ran to the fallen reptile, and pulled him into the room. Darius then pressed a button on a nearby control panel, and the outer door sealed. They heard a deep humming noise, and vents on the walls around them opened up. Atmosphere was blown into the room, and they could feel pressure building up around their skin. As if sensing the influx of gases, their tech-suits dimmed, and finally went dark. It felt as if something had been released from their skin.

"Just be glad they breathe the same air we do," Darius said to Michelle.

She nodded to him, and the inner door opened. Together they walked into the building.

"What now?" she breathed heavily, and looked at him.

"Well..." he took a moment to glance around the hallway where they now stood. "Clearly they will know we are in here. But we can't leave. Let's look around and see if we can't find another way out of here, sometimes these complexes have underground workings. If we can hide long enough, maybe they will abandon the search."

"You really think they will just give up that easily?" Michelle asked,

Darius shrugged, and grabbed her hand. "Who knows? We don't have many options. Come on."

The couple walked farther into the building, peering into the rooms they came across. No aliens could be found, and it seemed as if the building were empty. The rooms appeared to be mostly living quarters, kitchens, and meeting halls - it was a barracks. The soldiers that were inside had undoubtedly left to join the fight. Darius had hoped to find more weapons, but the lockers were also empty. The reptiles had taken everything they had with them to battle their enemy.

For several minutes, they scrambled around from room to room, desperately searching for something to aid them. Darius overturned beds. Michelle tore open every cabinet. They found nothing but food, clothes, and random trinkets. It was hopeless; they were trapped in this building. Certain death awaited them on the outside, and certain death awaited them if they stayed. Darius slammed his back up against the wall, and sank down to the floor.

"That's it," he said. "This is it. There's nothing else we can do." His face was filled with remorse.

Watching him give up was painful for Michelle. He was such a strong and courageous man. She could not bear to see him like this, sitting on the ground defeated.

"No," she told him. "No...you are wrong Darius." She crouched beside him and took his head in her hands. "We may be trapped; we may be dead within the hour. We may be about to get our brains blasted out by alien ray guns. But at least we are here together. We made it this far, to the end, together. That means something to me. Doesn't it to you?" She looked deeply into his chocolate brown eyes.

"Yea..." he said. "Yea, I guess it does. If this is it, if this really is the end, then fuck it...at least we have each other." She knelt closer to him and without hesitation, he pulled her into him. In the next moments, they were locked in a desperate embrace, kissing and grabbing at each others' hair and clothes.

With a sense of urgency that overwhelmed them, they tore off their tech-suits and underlying layers. They didn't take their eyes off each other for a single second. When they were naked, they met each other instantly, pressing skin against skin, yearning for the ecstasy of this final moment together.

Darius grabbed her by the waist and lifted her up. She was as light as child in the low gravity. He turned and pushed her up against the wall panel. His manhood was hard and throbbing with desire for her. Never had he wanted her more than in this moment, on this violent foreign moon, in this crazy situation that he knew would be their last. As he held her against the wall, she spread her legs and wrapped them around his strong torso, eager for him to be inside of her. Without hesitation, he entered her with a long and deep thrust.

Michelle screamed in ecstasy and held onto his muscular arms. Adrenalin rushed through her veins and pulsed through her every capillary. She felt his throbbing erection slide into her again and again as he grunted with a deep pleasure of his own.  

It was utterly crazy. It was completely insane. They were both about to die, and the only thing they could think about at that very moment was how deeply they loved each other. As Darius held her up and continued to thrust heavily inside of her, he wanted nothing more than to die in that moment. In that intense moment of sensuality and lust, he was ready to give himself over to the other side. A Coulari could have come in and blew his head off right then, and he would have been perfectly happy. He knew that she would be with him even after that; he knew that whatever happened, they would come out together. And how incredible she felt right now! Never had he loved her and wanted her more than in this moment. Intense sensations of pleasure pulsed from his groin to his legs to his head.

Moaning, he pulled her from the wall. The two continued to fuck in a standing position; she rocked her hips on his thick manhood as she held onto him with her legs. They stood in the middle of the room, him holding her up so she could slide up and down on him. Never before had she felt such incredible pleasure. She knew she was about to die, but she didn't care. The only thing she wanted was for to Darius to continue making passionate love to her.

Together they collapsed onto the floor, with Darius' back on the ground. They never separated for an instant, and Michelle kneeled on top of him, thrusting her pelvis into his with impassioned motions. She loved the feeling of having him deep inside of her. She put her hands on his muscular chest and gyrated her hips slowly.

"Aaahhhhhh," moaned Michelle in her high pitched feminine voice as she tossed her beautiful blonde hair over her head. "Oh god baby, I love you."

She screamed with more pleasure and passion than she had ever felt in her entire life.

Darius grabbed her smooth hips and held her as she pumped up and down on his raging erection. He admired her curvaceous form and perfect breasts, the size of succulent apples. Closing his eyes and tilting his head back, he let the waves of carnal pleasure wash over him. His head throbbed. His entire body felt more alive than it had ever felt. She was amazing; this incredible blonde woman that was nude on top of him, her warm and soft skin pressing against his, her beautiful breasts bouncing up and down as her pussy slid on his pulsating cock. The feeling of her warmth being on his blood-filled manhood was indescribable. He had never loved anyone more in his entire life.

They stayed in the throes of sexual bliss for what seemed like an eternity. Their surroundings fell away. They forgot that they were on an alien moon, forgot that enemy troops were coming to kill them, forgot that they may never see home or their friends again. The only thing that mattered was that they had each other in that moment of death, in the deepest most complete way possible. They loved each other like it was the end of the world, because to them...it was.





Centauri Ch. 03



Lying naked on the sofa, Darius watched as Michelle pulled her sexy white lace underwear up her well-toned legs, up her rounded butt cheeks and around her slender, curvaceous hips. Her honey blonde hair, finally unleashed from the tight knot that had restrained it earlier, fell gracefully down her elegant back, stopping just short of her embroidered lingerie, making a bright contrast between pearly white and golden yellow. Her spine arched smoothly as she reached behind her back to fasten her bra, which was also white and adorned with floral lace. Her skin was glistening with sweat from the lustful sex they had enjoyed just moments before.

Darius had been with many women since coming to New Paris, the fastest growing city on Centauri Prime. The city was flush with beautiful men and women, and the city's reputation for sexual extravagance was well known. The number of full-nude night clubs and fetish parlors had increased tenfold in the past two years alone. Some people saw it as a drag on the city's reputation, but there could be no doubt that New Paris was flourishing. The fashion and tailoring industries were particularly thriving, and women, as well as men, seemed to wear more creatively revealing clothing with each passing year. Fabrics were often semi-transparent, and clung to the shapely forms of females and to the muscular chests of males.

Michelle's beauty out shined them all though. Her face was radiant, with naturally rosy cheeks and luscious red lips. Her skin was flawless, and her body sublime. She moved with such grace and confidence that it was hard for a man not to become aroused just by watching her motions. Standing just a few inches shy of five and a half feet, her slender frame did not weigh much more than one hundred pounds. Her muscles were toned and fit, showing that she was in excellent physical condition, and her breasts were the size of succulent apples.

"I'd almost forgotten how amazing it feels to be with you," she said to Darius sincerely. "Nobody else has ever made can me feel the sensations you give me. It almost makes me think you are using some kind of magic or alien technology to mess with my brain." She turned and smiled at him playfully. "Are you?"

"Nope, no magic. It's all Darius love, babe. Although I may have slipped some spice into your drink," he joked.

"Oh yea? I'm not sure if that would have made it feel any better." Her smile faded momentarily. "You don't use that horrible drug do you?"

"Well, everything in moderation." His lips cracked into a slight smile.

She glared at him. "Not funny."

Conceding his ground, he responded, "Yea, you're right. But try everything once, I always say. I dallied in it a bit when I first moved to New Paris eight years ago -- just before I met you, I believe. It is difficult to avoid the drug when it is sold in every bar, club, and adult shop you walk into. But I gave it up quickly -- it dulls the wits. Although it does make sex feel amazing." He sat up on the couch, intending to put his clothes back on.

"I'll show you what feels amazing," she said matter-of-factly, and walked over to him.

Putting a hand on his chest, she pushed him back down onto the couch, and swung her legs over his torso. She positioned her hips and warm pussy over his flaccid member; only the thin, soft material of her white lace panties was between her moist flesh and his manhood. Slowly, she began to circle her hips on top of him, making sure to put just the right of amount pressure on his rapidly growing cock.

"How about that? You ever feel that on spice?" she said seductively, and leaned closer to him, putting her hands on his neck.

"Ah, no way. Not ever." Surprisingly, he found himself meaning it.

"Good answer."

She kissed him with her tantalizing red lips as she felt his erection getting longer and harder underneath her sensual motions. Her abundant blonde locks flowed down around his torso, caressing his rib cage. As she continued to kiss and suck on his lips, she slid her tongue into his mouth and moaned softly. She rocked her hips on his member, bringing it to full attention. Her warm crotch moved up and down the length of his shaft, which sent waves of pleasure through her entire body. She loved the feeling of her skin touching his, loved running her fingers down the hard muscles of his chest and how his strong hands felt on her supple body.

Suddenly she leaned back, and tossed her long hair around her head with a twirl. With her legs on either side of Darius, and her silk covered crotch pressing hard against his groin, she arched her back as much she could and put one hand behind her back to support her weight. Her other hand began to touch and play with her breasts through her shear white bra.

"Mmm, does that feel good baby?" she cooed and smiled at him naughtily.

"Incredible," he said watching her heated movements. His penis was throbbing with the fervor of her teasing.

She stuck two fingers in her mouth, moved them in and out several times to moisten them with her saliva. Then she reached down to the front of her panties and reached her fingers inside to rub her clitoris as she continued to slide her hips on top of his engorged shaft. Michelle's pleasure intensified immediately. The whole of her body became electrified, and she loved the feeling of Darius' stiff erection pressing against her wet pussy lips. Moaning, she rubbed her clit faster and started to press herself into Darius even harder.

Jesus, she is so fucking beautiful, Darius thought to himself, How did I ever forget about this woman? Oh yea...my brain was fucking hacked! But now she had returned to him, and the memories were returning as well. He relaxed on the sofa in complete enjoyment, allowing the stunning blonde in matching white lingerie to tease him in this way for many minutes. He held onto her slender hips and occasionally he would sit up and explore her cleavage with his talented tongue.

He admired her sensuality. She didn't use it as a weapon to manipulate men as some women did, but instead used it to express her extreme emotions for the man she loved. It gave her immense pleasure just to know she made her partner feel good, and she took pride in being the best at it. She would do anything for Darius, sexually speaking, and had fun doing it. Now her eyes were closed, and she was bringing herself closer and closer to orgasm as she fingered her swollen clit. Soft whimpers of pleasure fell from her mouth.

"Your cock feels so good baby and it's not even inside me," she said through a trembling voice and continued to grind into him.

Fuck I'm gonna cum!! she yelled in her head. Picking up the pace her rhythmic motions, she placed both of her hands on Darius' chest, and stared longingly into his eyes. As her pleasure built, she couldn't take it anymore, and reached down to her crotch and stuck his hard cock into her dripping wet hole. Thrusting downward, she felt every inch of him penetrate all the way into her pussy, and as soon as she felt her clit touch his groin, surge after surge of ecstasy began to pulsate through the entire core of her body, emanating from her clitoris and her cock filled pussy, spreading to her stomach, her lungs, her arms, her legs, up her spine through her neck, and finally into her brain, where the vividness of her orgasm erupted like a bomb. Her mouth was wide open and she couldn't help but scream in delight as she experienced an incredibly intense orgasm from the top of her head to the soles of her feet.

Darius could feel her body shuddering while he was inside of her, and could feel the warm walls of her slit contract around him. Her expression told him everything about how she was feeling in that moment, as her face was locked in a state of deep sexual bliss.

Slowly, after nearly a minute, she calmed and the wonderful sensations began to fade from her body.

"Ah...holy shit," she said between rapid breaths, "I was just going to tease you for a while, but you turn me on so much I just couldn't help myself." Not moving her legs from the position she was in, she collapsed backward onto the couch, chest facing up and her back between Darius' legs. She put her arms on her stomach and breathed deeply, allowing the last few tingles of orgasm to ease out of her.

Propping himself up on his elbows, he looked at her glistening body -- her chest was heaving up and down from the effort of her sexual work.

"Damn Michelle, I'd call that a successful tease. That was hot as hell. You really going to just leave me hanging like this though?" he asked, referring to his stiff erection that was still inside of her.

Laughing, she looked up at him with glimmering eyes, "Well I guess that wouldn't be fair now would it?"

She lifted her legs from around him, and started to position her body so she could give him what he wanted using her mouth. As she sat up, a shrill beeping noise came from her purse sitting across the room, pulling her attention away.

"Shit," she said. "That is Strafe. This can't be good if he is calling, I have to answer it. Hold on."

Quickly she jumped up and trotted barefoot across the cold floor-tiles to her hand bag, leaving a confused and aroused Darius lying alone on the sofa. Crouching down, she stuck a hand in and pulled out a black cylindrical-shaped device, about eight inches long, with rounded ends that were flashing green. The device beeped and vibrated in her hand, prompting her to answer it. Staying low, she pressed a button on the center of the metal shaft, the green tip turned white, and a screen materialized in front of her face. After a brief moment of static, the screen morphed and defined itself into a 3-dimensional image of a man's head.

"Michelle," said a stern voice. It was Strafe; Darius recognized the voice.

"Yes, it's me. What is it?"

The projection of the head flickered slightly. He spoke again and his voice had a slight amount of technological reverb to it.

"Michelle, I just received word. Bureau agents have been dispatched to Darius' building. I assume you successfully removed his memory inhibitor; good work. But its time to stop dicking around, you two need to get out of there NOW; they will be there in a matter of minutes. I've managed to hack a nearby fly-car and am remotely flying it to your location. It will rendezvous with you on the roof. Get up there PRONTO!"

"What?! Shit! Ok, thanks Strafe. Michelle out." She touched the device and the head disappeared. Not hesitating for a moment, she stood up and ran over to Darius. "Hey, did you hear that? We need to go, now!"

"Yea I heard it. First they blocked my memory, now they are blocking my cock. The Bureau can go fuck themselves." Darius sat up swiftly and made a mad scramble for his clothing. Michelle did the same.

In less than a minute, they were both fully dressed and preparing to make a run for it. Darius was sure to grab his gun and shoulder holster, and he noticed Michelle was strapping her own firearm around her hips on the outside of her white blouse. He picked up his backpack and hurriedly tossed a few essential possessions in -- who knows when he would be able to return to his apartment. Luckily he wasn't too attached to any of his personal objects, although he would miss some of the art he had collected. Maybe he would be able to come back if the Bureau didn't completely ransack his apartment, which was likely.

He watched Michelle quickly doing up her heeled boots around her tight black leggings. "Can you run in those?" he asked her, nodding towards the boots.

"Watch me," she stated simply.

Shrugging at her, as if to say Ok, whatever, he took one last look around the room. So much for the 88th floor penthouse -- it had been a good time, but all good things must come to an end.

"Are you ready? Let's go!" Michelle implored, opening the door to the hallway.

"Yea, yea, I hear you. Just saying bye to the old place. We can get to the roof through the stairwell down the hall and up two flights. Lucky I'm on top!"

"Hey, that's my line," she said, flashing him a charming smile. Together the duo ran into the corridor.

Darius could still not believe all that had transpired in the past hour. He had gone from being completely comfortable with his life situation, thinking he knew everything about himself, what he was doing and where he was going, to being forced into dropping all of it in just a few minutes. Michelle -- the woman that he had loved passionately for years, yet had no recollection of -- suddenly walked back into his life, popped a tiny computer chip out of his head and opened the flood gates of his memory. Then she told him he was being routinely abducted by the Coulari for some agenda she knew nothing about, and finally she made love to him with that exquisite body and mind of hers.

Now they were making a mad dash to avoid being captured by the people who had blocked his memory in the first place. Could he ask for any more excitement? Something told him there would be quite a bit more whether he wanted it or not.

Michelle moved quickly in front of him as they hurried down the hallway, her athletic legs making long strides in her heeled boots, which did not appear to slow her down in the slightest. When they reached the stairwell, they quickly ascended the two flights to the top of the building. The exit from the stairwell onto the roof was a metal door, sealed and locked by a latch on the right side.

Not wasting a single moment, Michelle whipped out her pistol from the holster clipped onto her belt, and fired a round at the latch. The gun fire was ear-piercingly loud in the enclosed area, and sparks flew from the metal in every direction as the bullet penetrated it deeply and sent the latch flying through the air. With a strong kick of a heeled boot, Michelle threw the door open wide -- to reveal a team of armed Bureau agents jumping out of a vehicle hovering above the roof about a hundred feet away. Members of the team were rapidly closing in on their position with rifles pointed their way.

Eyes popping open wide in alarm, Michelle wisely dropped to the cold metal surface beneath her, as bullets came screaming in over her head. Darius was a step beneath her and felt the air ripple in pressure waves as the bullet impacted the wall just behind Michelle. With lightening fast reflexes, Michelle fired off three rounds from her pistol before Darius reached up and grabbed her, pulling her out of the door way. Energized bullets continued to streak in behind her.

"Holy hell, they got here fast!" piped a startled Michelle. "Either that or Strafe was slow on his warning. I dropped three of them, but there's at least seven more agents headed our way." The couple got to their feet and wasted no time in rushing back down the stair well.

"Guess the roof isn't an option." Darius fretted, and they dashed back into the hallway.

"Yea -- it doesn't matter. They will be coming from the bottom also. Let's get back into your apartment, I have an idea." He wondered what she meant, but she sounded confident in her plan.

When they re-entered his apartment, Darius locked the door behind them. Whatever Michelle was planning, she needed to do it fast. Her hands disappeared into her black leather bag, and she grabbed the rod-like communication device she had used earlier. This time she delicately touched either end of the shaft, pushing in the rounded tips, ran her thumbs slowly toward the center, and said the name "Strafe." The screen lit up, and again a disembodied head materialized before her.

"Strafe, they are on the roof. We are pinned. Can you send the fly-car to the 88th floor, outside Darius' apartment?" Her eyebrows were furrowed in hope and desperation.

"I can do that, assuming they haven't commandeered it. One second," replied the talking head. It looked busy doing something for a few moments. "Alright, you should see it any second. Get your butts OUT of there, Michelle!"

She turned the device off, the head vanished, and she ran across the room to the wide window wall of the penthouse that overlooked the city. Darius stood by the door and watched the view screen that monitored the hallway. He saw several forms appear out of the stairwell and rush down the hall.

"They are here! What are we doing Michelle?"

Running over to where she was standing by the window, he followed her gaze upwards, and could see the blue hover jets of the fly-car descending from above. The vehicle floated down to their level, and stopped a few feet beyond the windows. A loud BANG came from the hallway door.

"Oh crap, this is actually going to work." Darius exclaimed.

"Shut up and shoot the glass!" yelled Michelle.

The two pulled out there pistols and unleashed several rounds at the window pane. The glass was thick, but not meant to withstand the high-energy gun fire, and cracks began to propagate along the length and width of the large pane. Another kick from Michelle's boot sent the glass shattering into the wind and rain of the night. The side of the fly-car slid open, offering them access to their sole route of escape.

A sudden explosion behind them made them both duck to the floor and look over their shoulders. The Bureau agents had blown the apartment door wide open, and were hustling in through the smoke filled entrance like bats from the maw of cave. Locking their palms together firmly, Darius and Michelle stood up and took two quick strides, and leaped for the floating transport.

Darius landed first, and the fly-car rocked to one side, threatening to tip both of them out and send them plummeting to their deaths. Michelle's heels and shorter legs did not do her any favors as she jumped, and she was able to get only her left side into the car. Grasping desperately onto Darius' hand, her right leg flew wildly behind her as she tried to squirm her way into the fly-car. Darius made it in completely, and hastily yanked her up the rest of the way.

Moments later, the agents unleashed hell at them. Bullets pelted the car and Darius took a shot in the left shoulder, sending him sprawling to the back of the vehicle, while another incoming projectile nicked him in the ear. He heard Michelle scream in pain as a bullet pierced the flesh of her right leg before she could safely get it inside.

As soon as they were both fully in the transport, the side of the fly-car slid shut with a woosh, and the remaining gunfire was deflected harmlessly aside by the impact resistant windows. Of its own accord (or Strafe's, Darius imagined), the hovering vehicle tilted downward and accelerated forward so fast that Darius and Michelle were thrown backward in a painful jumble of bodies, limbs and blood.

The car sliced through the air and spiraled down the length of the 90 story apartment sky-riser until it reached the belly of the city twenty feet above the ground. Thousands upon thousands of feet of interweaving metal pipelines separated them from the surface below. Roads were no longer needed with the advent of the hover-car and the fly-car, which meant there was no need to bury utility lines, at least in the cities. This meant there was a vast network of steam lines, electrical lines, water lines, and countless other lines just above the ground, effectively blocking access to the surface --unless you knew where to look.

The fly-car righted itself, and descended slowly the rest of the way, and then moved parallel with the piping infrastructure. Darius looked out the window, wondering where Strafe's commandeered vehicle was taking them. There was no way for him to tell if they were being pursued, but for the moment they appeared to be safe. The fly-car continued to steer itself between the buildings, allowing Michelle and Darius to tend their wounds.

"Gyah," grunted Darius as he pressed firmly on the bullet hole in his shoulder with his hand in a vain attempt to stem the blood that was steadily pouring from the open wound. His entire left arm and shoulder throbbed with pain. A small trickle of blood dripped down his neck from where the other bullet had bitten off a chunk from the top of his left ear lobe. He looked over at Michelle, and saw that she was coming to grips with her own wound - a bloody gash on her right thigh about half way between her waist and her knee.




Centauri Ch. 03



"There's a med-kit in my backpack. Hang on," he said.

With a determined effort to fight through the pain, he removed the backpack strap from his injured left shoulder, being forced to lift his arm to some degree, which caused hot jets of agony to shoot from his arm to his brain. He'd been shot before, but it wasn't exactly like shrugging off a punch or even the cut of a blade. His entire arm throbbed and even the slightest motion of his arm pushed the bullet into his clavicle. It took some care not to bite his tongue in response to the pain.

Once he had the pack off, he rummaged inside of it for a few moments, and produced a small red box with a white "+" symbol on it. Opening the box, he pulled out a hypodermic needle and syringe, and a small glass vial filled with a clear liquid.

"Here," he said, passing the first-aid supplies to Michelle. "Use this first for the pain."

She took the medicine from him gratefully and used her teeth to remove the protective cover from the needle, then pierced the top of the vial and sucked up enough liquid to fill the syringe. Without hesitation she jabbed it into her thigh just above the wound, injecting about half of the medicine, then removed it and stuck it into Darius' arm to inject the rest. Immediately he felt the pain in his arm dulling, and he became slightly light headed.

"Did the bullet pass through your leg?" his voice waivered slightly.

"Yea it feels like it. What about you?"

"It's still in there -- I can feel it pressing against my bone. We'll have to remove it once we've stopped. For now let's just get the bleeding stemmed. Here's a clot-packet."

He passed her a thin square shaped sheet of spongy green material wrapped in clear plastic. After tearing it open, she began to squeeze and crumple the material in one hand, which caused it to warm slightly and become more malleable, like a piece of clay. She placed the greenish substance on her right thigh over the injury, spreading it out to completely cover the gash, and held it in place for several moments. As she pushed it onto the torn skin and muscle, she felt a tinge of pain that would have been much sharper if not for the numbing agent pumping through her veins. Eventually, the clotting material adhered to her leg on its own, and the blood seeping out of the wound stopped. In a few more seconds, the greenish blob would catalyze her blood into coagulation and help form the blood platelets needed to seal the wound, as well as keep it disinfected.

Looking up, she saw that Darius had torn open a clot-packet of his own, and was applying it to his injury. She also noticed some blood oozing down the side of his neck.

"Your head, Darius," she said with more than a note of concern.

"It's my ear. Not sure how that one missed the mark -- the universe must still want me alive for something," he surmised.

Tearing off a small piece of the clotting material from his shoulder, he placed it on his ear. The green stuff seemed to mold itself onto the jagged tare along his cartilage, and the bleeding rapidly stopped.

"Well I guess that is that. We'll deal with the rest later," breathed Darius, finally allowing himself a sigh of relief. "Where is this thing taking us, do you think? To Strafe?"

"Yes, probably. There's an underground facility on the outskirts of the city -- I'm sure that is where it is taking us. We should be there in a few minutes." She relaxed her head on the headrest behind her, and pulled her good leg up beside her on the seat, bent at the knee, making a partial fetal position. "We were pretty stupid back there, you know. Or at least I was..."

"What do you mean?" he asked as he tried to find a comfortable position for himself. She was sitting on his left, so he could not quite turn comfortably on his wounded shoulder to look at her as she spoke. Finally he settled on turning 90 degrees counter-clockwise and lean his back against the door of the fly-car, cradling his left arm with his right, and was able to face Michelle.

"I got so caught up in the moment of finally being with you again, I forgot that removing the neural inhibitor would attract the Bureau's attention. We should have been out of there long before they ever got there. We should have left the moment I removed it." She sighed, feeling a pang of guilt, and Darius noticed some wetness developing in her crisp emerald eyes. She was a strong woman, so Darius knew she must be feeling something intense right then.

Indeed she was.

The past hour played itself out in her head, and she couldn't help but feel an upwelling of guilt. While she was busy playing with Darius and giving herself sexual pleasure, the Bureau was scrambling men with the utmost speed in order to detain or kill them. Her blind lust for giving the man she loved pleasure was also the same blindness that almost ended both their lives It was the same kind of feeling you get when you have made a terrible mistake, with the potential to affect not only yourself but others too, and fortunately someone else bails you without any harm being done. Everything turns out just fine. And no matter how you think about it, no matter who you try to put it in the best light, you know you are at fault; that it could just have easily worked out the other way, and you can't help but feel an overwhelming sense of failure. That is the feeling Michelle was experiencing at that exact moment.

"Hey," Darius said, and nudged her arm gently with the toe of his boot, "Don't worry 'bout that, ok? It's not your fault. If anything it's my fault. I'm the one who got all hot and huffy after I remembered you and threw myself onto you like a drunken teenage boy on a prom date. Besides, you wouldn't have been able to get a word in edge wise with my tongue and cock all down your throat. So ease up, ok? We made it out alive, you know?"

"Yea right," she scoffed. "You nearly got a bullet through your head, and if I hadn't landed like I did with my leg flying all about, I probably would have been hit in the chest and we wouldn't be having this conversation right now." She paused and wiped the moisture away from her eyes with a blood stained hand.

Darius watched her silently.

"Whatever," she continued. "It doesn't matter. When we make it to Cnidus, everything will be better."

"Cnidus?" Darius inquired curiously.

"That is the name of Stafe's underground facility. It's nothing flashy, but it will be safe." Her voice trailed off. She felt as if her strength had been sapped by the blood loss, or more likely just by everything that had transpired in the past couple of hours. But fighting through the pain, she moved herself closer to Darius, scooting on the smooth leather interior so she could rest her head on his lap. He calmly laid a hand on her hair and stroked it slowly, then turned his eyes to look out the window.

At some point the fly-car must have maneuvered itself underground, as they appeared to be flying through some sort of tunnel. The only illumination came from the forward facing beams of the fly-car's headlights. The tunnel was narrow, only slightly larger than the width of the vehicle. Condensation dripped down the walls, which were covered in many places by a thick layer of moss.

Darius was unsure as to the purpose of the tunnel, or who had constructed it. There was nothing here but the walls, the moss and them. Occasionally the tunnel would intersect with another, and the fly-car would make a 90 degree turn to the left or right, and sometimes even up or down. It was a confusing lair of concrete duct work. Darius quickly became disoriented.

After many minutes, they eventually came to a hovering stop before a barricade of orange rusted metal. A red light at the top of the barricade began to flash, and soon he could hear the grinding of gears. Slowly, the thick metal door was retracted upwards to reveal what looked at first like another tunnel. This one had neon yellow lights along the floor and walls that streamed inward in pulses. The fly-car glided slowly inward for several dozen feet before finally coming to a halt, and disengaging its engines. They had arrived at their destination it seemed.

"Looks like we made it," Darius said to Michelle. Her eyes had been closed for most of the journey.

He pressed a button on the door, and the side slide open. Getting out, he walked quickly to the other side to assist Michelle. She was able to stand on her own, but still leaned on Darius for support.

"So this is Cnidus?" he asked her, taking a look at his surroundings.

"Yes, we will be safe here," she reassured him.

They stood in a tunnel about a hundred feet long by thirty feet wide. It appeared to be a small vehicle hanger, as a few other hover-cars and fly-cars were positioned along its length. The wide corridor was lit overhead by an icy blue fluorescent light, which was being emitted from panels some twenty feet above their heads. Beneath their feet, a narrow strip of yellow light flowed as if it were a liquid embedded in the metal floor, away from where they were standing and toward a door at the other end of the hanger, as if guiding them to it.

"Glad to see he pulled out the welcoming party," Darius commented.

Michelle hadn't been to this particular part of the Cnidus facility before, but she knew they were probably on one of the upper levels. "Believe it or not, but not too many people actually run this place. Strafe's man power is small, but his technological fingers run deep into every part of the Centauri government."

"Is that a fact? And these 'technological fingers' you speak of, he must be very skilled with them. Shall we walk?" He started taking footsteps in the direction of the flowing yellow floor-light, allowing Michelle to lean slightly on his uninjured shoulder as she limped along with him.

"Oh yes, very skilled." She tilted her head to look up at him, "And with more than just his fingers," she added. She watched his expression out of the corner of his eyes to gauge his response to her teasing banter.

Darius stopped walking and looked down at her. "I'm going to assume the pain meds are making you silly."

She laughed at this. That was one thing she had always loved about him. He was never afraid to be direct, and he had a sense of jovial confidence about him that showed he could never truly be flustered by anything.

"Maybe," she said, smiling at him. The two resumed walking towards the door at the end of the hanger.

Darius was desperately in need of a drink of water. The strain of his memories returning, coupled with the boozed up sex he'd had with Michelle (...amazing sex, he thought), not to mention two bullet wounds, were starting to take their toll on his body. When he was younger and fighting in Terran Special Forces (a.k.a. T-Spec), which was a privately owned military organization, he would go longer than 48 hours without even a single droplet of water as part of his training for Martian surface raids.

The enemies of the Global Alliance of Earth frequently took refuge on Mars for safety, often underground, forcing any would-be invaders to survive for long periods of time in a completely barren environment. All men and women of T-Spec were trained to be physically capable of handling severe lack of food and water, extremely low oxygen, and low gravity.

But it had been more than 10 year since he'd been on Mars, and one tends to lose those sorts of physical tolerances when not practiced regularly. Right now, his mouth felt like it was filled with starch. His lips must have looked like ancient parchment. Why hadn't Michelle sad anything? He licked his lips and wiped his mouth with the side of hand, and a streak of whitish saliva rubbed off on his skin.

"Jesus," he said, "Can you walk any faster?"

Michelle nodded and picked up her pace a little. She wasn't feeling too dissimilar from Darius.

Eventually the two reached the door to which the yellow floor-light had been guiding them. The light took a right turn immediately before the entrance, and then disappeared under the door. Just to the left, a red LED flashed above a narrow slit in the wall. Michelle inserted her two longest fingers into the smooth hole for a few seconds. After a few moments, nothing occurred.

"Damn it, I hate these things," Michelle muttered.

Sliding her fingers in and out of the slit several times, at first fast, and when that did nothing, slow, and finally the LED turned green. The door opened by splitting down the middle and retracting. Once open, it could be seen that the floor-light continued into the next hallway and down a set of steps.

Darius spat, or tried to, and said, "What the heck is this, follow the yellow brick road?" Getting frustrated, he began to walk forward without Michelle. "I swear, when we finally meet up with Strafe, I'm going to..." Suddenly his voice ended and the space was silent.

Michelle stood in complete shock as she watched his entire body begin to darken, and the edges of him begin to fade. The disincorporating man seemed to sense what was going on, and he had just a single moment to turn his head and look back at Michelle before the space he occupied dimmed to a shadow, and then eventually reverted back to a pocket of empty air. A wave of coldness, coming from where Darius had been standing, washed over Michelle as she remained motionless in disbelief.

A few seconds later, a man walked up the steps at the opposite end of the hall. He noticed Michelle standing in the doorway with a blank expression on her face. Stepping up his stride a few paces, he approached her.

"Michelle, glad to see you made it," said a deep voice. Looking around her and into the hanger, he quickly added, "Where is Darius?"

She didn't respond at first, but continued to stare down the hallway. The man was Strafe, whom she recognized immediately. When she didn't answer, he quickly ran over to the fly-car that had retrieved them and looked inside. Finding nothing, he returned to the doorway, where Michelle turned to him and said in a slow, steady voice, "They took him."

"Who took him? The Bureau?" asked Strafe.

"The Coulari. They took him, just now. Teleported him right out of the hallway."

"What!" he said in surprise, "That wasn't supposed to happen again for another three days!" His expression was sour at best, and he turned to face the wall.

"Fuck!" he exclaimed, and bashed a curled fist into the cold metal. "We'll have to find him before the Bureau does."

Michelle remained collected, but inside she felt a pang of frustration and loss. Finding him would be hard, as the Coulari never returned him to the same place twice, and she knew he had no way of finding the Cnidus facility. Strafe always contacted Darius, never the other way around; so Darius would not be able to reach them remotely. His apartment would be overrun by the Bureau, and she knew he would be too smart to return there anyway. That left only the whole city of New Paris, which spanned dozens of miles.

Strafe turned and looked at her. "Hey," he said, grabbing her shoulder, "We'll find him. Let's get that leg of yours looked at. Come on down to the infirmary." He wrapped an arm around her waist and led her, limping, down the hallway and down the steps in the direction of the yellow floor-light.

****

Hope you all enjoyed this chapter, I really had a fun time writing it! I will try to write the next chapter soon so we can all find out what has happened to Darius! Until next time. --Love, Amoronaut



Centauri



A space ship. A group of people, his colleagues. It was Capsilon X. They were on their mission.

More flashes and ringing. 

Dark rooms, glowing conduits. Shadowy figures moving about on a back lit wall. The images were unclear, he couldn't make sense of them. He opened his eyes, but he wasn't in his apartment. He was on board the Capsilon X ship, laying on his cot. 

He blinked again. 

It was as if we were watching a film. There was no control over his vision or body, he was merely watching the event. His vision turned to his right, he was rolling over in his cot. He wasn't alone, there was someone laying next to him. 

Blink. 

It was Michelle. She was there with him, on the ship. He looked into her magnificent eyes, she was talking to him. He couldn't hear what she was saying, but she was smiling. Suddenly she laughed, he must have said something to her. His hand reached out, touched her cheek.

Blink.

Michelle was closer now, her face taking up the whole of his vision. They kissed slowly, gently, lovingly. The embrace lasted for several moments, their lips locked in a passionate duel. The memory was becoming more intense, he could feel as well as see. Her body was pressed against his, one hand pulling him closer, another hand caressing his groin. She had the most delicate fingers. She wrapped her warm hand around his partially swollen member and smiled at him. His manhood grew steadily in her hand as she slowly worked it up and down. Her lips formed into a beautiful pout, like she was kissing the air. She closed her eyes and began to use both hands on his now fully engorged member. 

Darius was experiencing all of this inside of his mind, a memory returning. He could feel her body, her hands, her warmth. She felt incredible. He touched her glassy skin, and ran his hands along her stomach, waist and hips. As she continued to stroke his manhood up and down in a slow gentle rhythm, he leaned into her breasts. They were soft, amazingly soft. Delicately he planted kisses on her neck, on her chest, until he reached her bosom. His tongue flicked lightly on her nipples, and he could see her start to open her mouth out of the corner of his eye. She was moaning. He could feel everything now. 

Blink.

She was moving her body down his, her honey blonde hair falling over his chest. She kissed his arms, his ribs, his navel, working her way lower. When she got to his waist line she looked up at him, her hair cascading about her face. She gazed deeply into his eyes and took hold of his stiff manhood with both of her hands. Up and down she pumped. She continued to look at him, licked her lips, and again made that beautiful pout. 

Finally she looked down at his throbbing groin, and dropped a small amount of spit onto the head of his shaft. She worked her saliva in slowly with her hands, and then began to lick the shaft from the base to the top. The warmth and moisture from her tongue were heating him up, he felt blood surging into his member. Michelle held his shaft with both hands and began to wrap her mouth around his head, twisting and slurping. Every few seconds she would take him deeper into her mouth. He felt the tightness of her throat, felt her tongue on the underside of his shaft. She moved her tongue and swirled it while she had him deep inside her throat. She pulled up, and his penis was so tight it whipped back to his stomach. She looked at him and smiled beautifully. As she took his member back into her hand, Darius' vision began to fade. The scene slowly began to dissipate and he suddenly felt lightheaded. 

Blink.

His eyes opened again, and this time he was back in his apartment. Michelle was kneeling in front of him, her hands on his legs, peering at him intently. The suture tools had been put away. His temple throbbed slightly, and he quickly reached up to touch it without thinking.

"Don't," said Michelle, grabbing his hand, "it's finished. The implant is out. You were on the verge of passing out, are you alright? Have you remembered anything?"



That is the end of this installment. I hope to write more soon!



Centaurii Sunt Bine Dotați



AVERTISMENTE

1. Text pornografic explicit, nerecomandat persoanelor cu anumite sensibilități.

2. ÎNTÂMPLĂRILE PREZENTATE SUNT ÎN ÎNTREGIME FICTIVE ȘI NU TREBUIE CONSIDERATE CA AVÂND VREO LEGĂTURĂ CU REALITATEA; NU ÎNCERCAȚI CEVA ASEMĂNĂTOR, EXISTĂ RISCUL DE A VĂ PUNE ÎN PERICOL SĂNĂTATEA SAU CHIAR VIAȚA!

PERSONAJE PRINCIPALE:

MIRELA 

Caucaziană minionă, foarte atrăgătoare, 24 de ani, 1m60, păr șaten roșcat, lung până mai jos de umeri, cu breton peste sprâncene, chip foarte frumos, cu ochi verzi mari, migdalați, nas subțire, cârn, buze frumos arcuite; are sâni mari, rotunzi (implanturi), talie subțire, șolduri senzuale, fese rotunde, tari, picioare solide, dar sexy. 

Exhibiționistă, aproape tot timpul goală și desculță, are un tatuaj „tribal" simplu, relativ mic, la noadă și 69 de piercing-uri, dintre care poartă de obicei între cinci și douăzeci.

Model porno și prostituată, este specializată în sex în grup cu penetrări multiple/simultane și scato.

SHIORI

Japoneză foarte drăgălașă și micuță, 21 de ani, 1m48, își vopsește părul în roz, are chip de păpușă, cu ochi negri; are sâni micuți dar frumoși, cu areole mari, talie subțire, fese rotunde, tari, picioare frumoase; deși arată cât se poate de feminin, este hermafrodită, are în locul clitorisului un penis mic, lipsit de testicule, însă funcțional (erecție, ejaculare, urinare).

Exhibiționistă, poartă rochițe foarte scurte fără să își pună chiloței; are câteva piercing-uri pe care le poartă ocazional.

Prostituată și model porno, este specializată în sex în grup cu penetrări multiple; nu refuză scato.

SOȚUL MIRELEI

Caucazian suplu, între două vârste, 1m80, păr șaten grizonant, ochi căprui, fizic banal.

Scriitor fără succes, este întreținut de Mirela și Shiori. Preferă sexul „normal", așadar participă la orgiile fetelor numai când insistă ele.

PRIMUL CAPITOL

Shiori iese goală din baie, cu părul vopsit în roz închis puțin umed după duș, și aruncă o privire în dormitorul privat. Iubitul ei, soțul Mirelei, stă turcește pe patul foarte mare și se uită cu o figură vag exasperată la ecranul laptop-ului așezat pe suport, în fața lui. Micuța Shiori, chicotind, se suie pe pat, se apropie de el în patru labe, mișcându-și provocator șoldurile și, strecurându-și mânuța în pantalonii bărbatului, îl apucă de pulă în timp ce îi vâră limba în ureche.

- Ce-ți vine? exclamă el.

- Nimic deosebit; m-am gândit că ai putea face altceva în loc să te holbezi la ecran, așteptând să-ți vină inspirația. (Se răstoarnă pe spate, lângă el, cu coapsele depărtate.) De pildă, să mă fuți.

Bărbatul apleacă ochii înspre pizda fetei, peste care îi atârnă, bleagă, mica pulă, puțin mai mare decât a unui copil, pe care o are în loc de lindic; Shiori și-o prinde între degete, și-o ridică, își trage în jos prepuțul, belind glandul rozaliu, și îi face cu ochiul căscându-și pizda cu degetele celeilalte mâini.

- S-ar putea să fie o idee bună -- oftează el.

Închide laptop-ul, îl pune pe noptiera cea mai apropiată și se dezbracă; pula lui, de lungime medie, dar destul de groasă, e deja puțin sculată. Zâmbind încântată de succesul avut, Shiori se ridică în genunchi, îl împinge ușor de umeri pentru a-l face să se întindă, se răsucește, vine deasupra lui, îi linge coaiele, apoi pula, după care o ia în gură; bărbatul, la rându-i, îi suge mica pulă și îi dă limbi în pizdă.

Două minute mai târziu, amândoi au pulele complet sculate, iar pizda micuței e cât se poate de umedă; așadar, Shiori se întoarce, se așază călare pe el, își potrivește glandul mărit între labii și se lasă pe el pentru a fi penetrată; când pula bărbatului a ajuns adânc în vaginul ei, fata se culcă pe pieptul lui, presându-și pula între pubisuri, și, sărutându-l, începe să se miște înainte și înapoi; bărbatul o apucă de bucile tari, rotunde, și își potrivește ritmul cu al ei; după câteva minute, se întorc, el trecând deasupra; micuța hermafrodită îl îmbrățișează și cu brațele, și cu picioarele, și își împinge la rându-i bazinul înspre el, acum ea sincronizându-se cu ritmul lui.

Se mai fut în noua poziție câteva minute și, simțind că iubitul ei se apropie de orgasm, Shiori încearcă să și-l declanșeze pe al ei în același timp, însă nu reușește să îl aibă decât după ce ultimul lui jet de spermă i s-a răspândit în vagin; icnind ușor, fata își desprinde picioarele de pe mijlocul lui, își proptește tălpile pe saltea și se împinge mai mult în el în timp ce vaginul i se contractă ritmic, iar mica ei pulă le udă amândurora abdomenele cu sperma sterilă.

Cei doi mai rămân puțin îmbrățișați, apoi bărbatul o sărută și se ridică de pe ea; Shiori, ștergându-se cu șervețele din cutia așezată la îndemână, îi curăță pula lingând-o și sugând-o, iar când consideră că a terminat, împinge cutia spre el.

- Pe burtă te ștergi și singur! îi spune râzând.

După ce se rostogolește până la marginea patului, micuța sare în picioare și, chicotind, îi aruncă peste umăr când iese din cameră:

- Mă duc să văd ce prostii mai face nevastă-ta!

*

Mirela, tolănită în fotoliu în poziția ei favorită, -- lăsată pe spate și cu picioarele peste cotiere, -- îndreaptă ochii ei mari și verzi către pula încă puțin sculată a lui Shiori și rânjește:

- Iar ai pus-o cu bărbată-miu?

- Păi dacă l-ai lăsat singur, săracu', trebuia să se ocupe cineva de el, nu? rânjește și micuța, lăsându-se să cadă pe canapea, crăcită.

- Nu l-am lăsat singur, l-am lăsat să lucreze.

Shiori ridică din umeri, uitându-se cum prietena ei se masturbează împingându-și ritmic în pizdă un dildo enorm ce reproduce fidel o pulă de cal.

- Lucra pe dracu', se holba la ecran cu figura sictirită pe care o face când nu prea are inspirație. Așa că mi s-a făcut milă de el.

- Și i-ai alungat de tot inspirația, să nu se mai chinuie!

- Ei, aș! I-a venit în timp ce mă futea, nu știi că-s muza lui?

- Ce să zic, muză cu pulă! râde Mirela.

- Poate pe tine să te inspire pula...

- M-ar putea inspira dac-ar fi chiar pulă, nu puțucă -- o întrerupe Mirela, drăguță ca de obicei.

- ...El are treabă cu pizda mea! continuă Shiori, ignorând înțepătura. Apropo de pizdă, care-i treaba cu dildo-ul ăla?

Mirela clipește nedumerită.

- Cum adică, care-i treaba cu el? Nu folosesc tot timpu' de-astea mari, ce te miri?

- Vrei să spui enorme. Nu, te-ntrebam dacă ți-o tragi cu ăla-n formă anatomică pentru că ți-e dor de futai cu caii.

- A, asta... (Ridică din umeri.) Păi da, dacă site-u' ăsta nu ne lasă să ne futem cu animale, fac și io ce pot.

- Eh, nu-i vina lor că unii politicieni n-au de lucru și interzic aia și ailaltă...

- Mda, știu. Și din cauza lor, în loc să mă fut c-un cal, mă frec cu chestia asta.

Shiori oftează.

- Și mie mi-e dor de vremea când făceam filme la fermă... Asta e, n-avem ce face!

- Ba cred că nu-i tocmai așa -- intervine soțul Mirelei.

Fetele întorc capetele spre el; rămas în pielea goală, stă sprijinit cu umărul de tocul ușii, cu brațele încrucișate la piept, și se uită la pizda nevestei, larg căscată de dildo-ul imens.

- Ce vrei să zici? întreabă ea.

- Păi au lăsat o portiță: puteți să vă futeți cu inorogi, vârcolaci, sau cu ce dihănii supranaturale vreți voi.

Mirela se strâmbă, iar Shiori mârâie:

- Da, bine! Noi suntem necăjite și tu ne iei la mișto!

Bărbatul neagă din cap, spunând:

- Nu vă iau la mișto, chiar e posibil!

Soția lui se oprește din masturbare și mijește ochii.

- Ai luat-o razna, sau ce?!

Nouă negare din cap.

- Nu, nici vorbă; tocmai au anunțat că în rezervația de la poalele muntelui au apărut mai multe ființe considerate până acum mitologice.

- Asta ce vrea să fie, o idee pentru nou' tău roman? bombăne Mirela și, dând din umeri, reîncepe să își împingă în vagin macheta la scară reală a pulei de cal.

Shiori doar clipește și se întoarce spre el, fixându-l atentă cu ochii ei alungiți în timp ce pune o talpă pe canapea, depărtându-și mai mult picioarele; ceva în tonul bărbatului îi spune că nu fabulează, dar soția lui e prea obișnuită să îl contrazică pentru a fi remarcat aceasta.

- Nu, e pe bune. Și partea cea mai interesantă e că sunt căutate curve care să se fută cu ele, adică ei, că sunt numai masculi, ca să se obțină mostre ADN fără să fie capturați. E suficient să vă înscrieți în program și nu numai că aveți acces neîngrădit în rezervație, dar mai primiți și bani la recoltarea spermei.

Mirela se oprește din nou, iar Shiori mai clipește o dată înainte de a exclama, cu un zâmbet fericit pe chipul de păpușă:

- Ce tare!! Grozav!

- Și... despre ce ființe ar fi vorba? se interesează Mirela, reluând mișcarea dildo-ului, de astă dată mai lent.

Soțul ei dă își freacă o tâmplă cu arătătorul, strâmbându-se aproape caraghios în timp ce încearcă să își amintească detaliile anunțului.

- Păi... Un inorog... un minotaur și un centaur... un cerber... un grifon, parcă... Nu mai știu, erau mai multe. A, și un pegas!

- Deci din mitologia greacă! zice Shiori, excitată; mica ei pulă s-a întărit în timp record și acum stă curbată în sus. E și un satir?

- Parcă da, da' n-aș băga mâna-n foc.

- Ce, ți s-a făcut să te fuți c-un țap? rânjește Mirela.

- Sigur că da! Și-aș mai pune-o cu cerberu' și grifonu'! Ăia cu pulă de cal ți-i las ție -- adaugă, aruncând o privire răutăcioasă înspre dildo-ul din pizda prietenei ei.

- Minotaurul cine-l vrea? se interesează malițios soțul Mirelei.

- Are doar capu' de taur -- răspunde nevastă-sa, prefăcându-se că nu a observat ironia. Da' dacă are și pulă de taur, îl vreau io; dacă-i de om, i-l las lu' Shiori!

Bărbatul își dă ochii peste cap a „multă minte îi mai trebuie!", iar micuța replică:

- Da' cu pegasu' vrei să te fuți?

- Bine'nțeles, de vreme ce-i un cal cu aripi!

- Ce-o să mă mai distrez când o să-și ia zboru' cu tine înfiptă-n pulă!

Acum, soțul Mirelei clatină din cap, dar cam cu același înțeles.

- Ce tâmpenii poți să debitezi! spune Mirela și se ridică din fotoliu, rămânând cu dildo-ul în pizdă. Hai mai bine să ne futem -- adaugă, așezându-se în patru labe pe jos.

*

Shiori se uită la pula de cal din latex pe jumătate vârâtă în vaginul Mirelei, se ridică la rându-i și, mergând la dulăpiorul cu accesorii, zice:

- Da' nu cu chestia aia.

Scoate dintr-un sertar un dildo lung, cu două capete, se duce în spatele prietenei ei, îi scoate din pizdă dildo-ul cabalin, i-l bagă în loc pe celălalt, apoi îi apucă bucile, i le depărtează, îi linge gaura curului astfel căscată până când anusul se relaxează suficient pentru a-l umezi și în interior, apoi își potrivește în pizdă celălalt capăt al ustensilei sexuale, și-o împinge în vagin și, băgându-și pula în curul Mirelei, începe să o fută; între timp, soțul îi dă muie.

Când pula bărbatului e din nou sculată, Shiori își scoate pula din curul Mirelei și se dă la o parte, ținându-și în pizdă dildo-ul; Mirela rămâne în patru labe, soțul i-o bagă în pizdă, însă ea îl privește peste umăr și spune:

- Mai bine mă fuți-n cur!

Bărbatul îi face pe plac, iar Shiori se așază în genunchi în fața prietenei ei, se apleacă și se sprijină într-o mână, cu cealaltă masturbându-se cu dildo-ul; Mirela începe să îi dea limbi în gaura curului în timp ce îi apucă între degete mica pulă și i-o freacă. Cei trei continuă un timp în aceeași poziție, până când Shiori are orgasm și, în timp ce ejaculează gemând, soțul Mirelei are iarăși, surprinzător de repede după ce s-a futut cu micuța hermafrodită, orgasm.

După ce ejaculează în rectul nevestei, bărbatul se așază pe canapea, transpirat; Mirela se lasă pe vine, iar Shiori, jucându-se cu dildo-ul dublu, pe care îl curbează în toate felurile în mâini, se postează lângă ea; Mirela le curăță amândurora pulele, lingându-le și sugându-le.

AL DOILEA CAPITOL

Fetele coboară din mașină și, făcându-i cu mâna soţului Mirelei, rămas la volan, -- lui nu i s-a eliberat autorizație de acces în rezervație, -- intră în pădurea de la poalele muntelui tocit de milenii de intemperii. Shiori poartă o rochiță galbenă, strâmtă, care nu îi acoperă decât o parte din buci, și a încălțat niște cizme lungi peste genunchi, bej, cu talpă de cauciuc. Mirela e goală, și-a scos toate piercing-urile în afară de cel din limbă, dar și-a pus niște jambiere roșii, groase, pentru a-și proteja gambele de atacurile bălăriilor și acoliților lor.

- Hai mai repede! strigă Shiori, deja ajunsă la capătul dinspre o poieniță al potecii în pantă.

- Fac și io ce pot... -- bombăne Mirela, pășind atentă să nu își înfigă vreun ciot în talpă.

- Măcar de data asta puteai se te-ncalți, aiurito!

Aiurita îi aruncă o privire enervată.

- De câte ori m-ai văzut încălțată până acum, ia zi?

Micuța ezită o clipă.

- Păi... Cred că niciodată.

- Corect! Îți dai seama că dacă merg numai desculță, dacă mă-ncalț risc să-mi rup gâtu', da?

- Exagerezi... mormăie Shiori, uitându-se în jur. E mișto aici, nu-i de mirare că s-au instalat monstruleții ăia.

Mirela ajunge și ea în poieniță.

- Știi, un grifon sau un centaur nu prea intră-n categoria monstruleților...

- S-ar putea să ai dreptate -- murmură micuța, apucând-o de braț, cu privirea ațintită către marginea opusă a poieniței; prietena ei se uită într-acolo și înghite în sec.

De sub bolta de ramuri, o ființă roaibă tocmai a pășit în lumina Soarelui. Cu toate cele patru copite. Și nu e un cal, caii nu au tors, mâini și capete omenești.

*

- Nu mi-aș fi-nchipuit că-ntâlnim așa de repede o jivină de-asta -- șoptește Mirela. Ce facem?

- Păi du-te la el, că doar tu ești aia care se fute cu cai!

- Mda, numa' că asta nu-i tocma' cal...

Shiori se strâmbă la ea.

- Ești culmea! Nu ți-e frică să te vâri sub un cal, da' te temi de-o ființă inteligentă!

- Sper că-i destul de inteligentă ca să nu confunde o curvă cu ceva de mâncat... -- mormăie Mirela, pornind cu pași mici către monstru.

Care monstru le văzuse pe fete de un bun moment și se uita la ele ținând capul înclinat într-o parte. Când cea având pe ea cârpe numai la picioare pornește spre el, face la rându-i câțiva pași înainte, apoi se oprește și așteaptă. Mirela, continuând să se apropie, se încruntă ușor. „Nu se poate!", murmură când ajunge destul de aproape de centaur pentru a fi sigură că văzuse bine: acesta are o pulă cât se poate de asemănătoare cu cele ale oamenilor, plasată între picioarele din față... „S-a dus dracu' futaiu' c-un cal...", își spune, dezamăgită, fata. „Da' măcar o are mare", se consolează. Când ajunge la un pas în fața monstrului, ridică privirea și ochii ei verzi se întâlnesc cu cei căprui ai centaurului.

- Ăămmm... Salut, ce faci? Io-s Mirela, pe tine cum te cheamă?

Centaurul clipește și înclină mai mult capul. „Proastă mai sunt, precis nu ne știe limba...", își zice fata și repetă salutul în cele câteva limbi străine din care știe câte ceva. Nicio reacție. Mai bine abordează altfel comunicarea: îndreaptă arătătorul spre piept, între țâțele siliconate, și rostește cât de clar poate: „Mirela". Centaurul mai clipește o dată și scoate primul sunet de până acum: „Mirrhela".

- Da, da, Mirela! se bucură fata.

- Mirhela -- repetă monstrul, întinzând un deget spre ea.

Până acum, e destul de bine. Mirela se arată din nou cu arătătorul, își repetă numele, apoi îndreaptă degetul spre el; centaurul ridică iar mâna, arată din nou spre fată, îi repetă numele stâlcit, după care întoarce mâna spre pieptul său și spune:

- Ni-i-i-ia-a-a-akha.

Mirela încruntă o sprânceană, întrebându-se dacă monstrul tocmai s-a prezentat sau, pur și simplu, a nechezat.

- Niiaaha? încearcă ea să reproducă ceea ce a auzit.

- Ni-i-i-ia-a-a-akha.

„La dracu', se face noapte până ne lămurim ca lumea -- își zice Mirela. Mai bine abordez direct problema!"

Și, uitându-se în ochii centaurului, se mai apropie puțin și îi ia cu grijă pula în mână; acesta coboară privirea, se uită iar la Mirela, pe urmă îi fixează mâna cu care l-a apucat; fata începe să îi maseze ușor pula; cum „Ni-i-i-ia-a-a-akha" nu pare deloc nemulțumit, îi face semn cu mâna lui Shiori să se apropie, apoi se lasă pe vine și, mângâind încet pântecul omenesc al centaurului, îi ia pula în gură, rugându-se ca în lumea de unde vine să existe felația. Se pare că da, fiindcă „Ni-i-i-ia-a-a-akha" o mângâie pe cap; Mirela capătă curaj și începe să sugă pula așa cum face de obicei.

*

Shiori ajunge lângă ei și se holbează uimită în timp ce ființa mai mult sau mai puțin mitologică abia dacă îi acordă o privire.

- Ce naiba, ăsta nu-i cal cu trunchi de om, e om cu picioare și cur de cal! murmură micuța și, după ce se uită un moment cum se ocupă prietena ei de centaur, începe să îi dea ocol.

Și încremenește.

- Hei, Mirela!

- Mnnhmhmm!

- Știi, cred că iei muie de la capătul greșit... -- spune Shiori, abținându-se cu greu să izbucnească în râs.

- Ce!?! exclamă Mirela și, uitând de orice prudență, se repede să vadă despre ce e vorba. Futu-i!! exclamă când se lămurește ce voia să zică micuța.

Centaurul mai are o pulă. Una plasată ca la orice cal, și arătând ca orice pulă de cal.

- Da' n-am auzit niciodată că centaurii au două pule! bombăne Mirela, fixând pula „principală" care abia a început să se scoale, atârnând de o palmă în afara furoului.

- Probabil că ăsta nu e de fapt centaur. Sau exista cenzură încă din vremea grecilor antici. Nu contează, am o idee!

- Ne futem amândouă odată cu el? întreabă Mirela, uitându-se spre capul lui „Ni-i-i-ia-a-a-akha"; acesta îi întoarce liniștit privirea.

- Știam eu că am o prietenă isteață! chicotește Shiori, scoțându-și rochița; la gândul futaiului, mica ei pulă începuse să se scoale. Tu te ocupi de partea cabalină, eu de cea umană! precizează, descălțându-se.

- Evident... -- murmură prietena isteață, lăsându-se iar pe vine, de această dată sub corpul de cal al centaurului.

În timp ce Shiori suge pula omenească, Mirela o apucă într-o mână pe cea de cal și, după ce linge pe rând coaiele, merge cu limba de-a lungul furoului, apoi al pulei și începe să lingă apăsat glandul enorm, să îl prindă între buze, iar pe măsură ce pula se scoală, își plimbă limba și buzele de-a lungul ei, revenind apoi la gland, unde insistă la deschizătura uretrei, și tot așa; cu cealaltă mână se masturbează, pregătindu-se pentru penetrare. În scurt timp, centaurul are ambele pule complet sculate; cu picioarele larg depărtate, Shiori se agață de trunchiul lui aparent uman, se ridică până ajunge cu pizda la pula lui, și-o potrivește la capătul vaginului și se lasă în jos până îi intră adânc; „Ni-i-i-ia-a-a-akha" o apucă de buci cu mâinile și îi impune ritmul.

Între timp, Mirela, stând aplecată sub corpul cabalin, și-a împins în pizdă glandul imens și, sprijinindu-se cu o mână de piciorul din față al centaurului, iar cu cealaltă ținându-i scula, se împinge încet înapoi pentru a fi penetrată; pula enormă, depărtându-i mult labiile, alunecă încet în ea; când glandul îi atinge cervixul, Mirela se prinde cu ambele mâini de picioarele lui „Ni-i-i-ia-a-a-akha", cu gândul se a începe să se miște înainte și înapoi, însă centaurul, continuând să o miște pe micuță în pula frontală, își încordează crupa împingându-și pula imensă ceva mai adânc, însă cu măsură, în Mirela, și începe să o fută energic, dar fără să încerce să și-o introducă în întregime în ea -- este, în mod evident, conștient de diferența dintre o femelă din specia lui și o femeie. Chiar și așa, când intră cel mai adânc în Mirela, pula enormă care îi dilată aproape dureros vaginul îi bombează abdomenul, făcând-o să icnească.

După ce se scurg multe minute, centaurul ejaculează simultan în ambele fete; dacă la Shiori sperma rămâne în vagin, în cazul Mirelei este atât de multă încât o parte i se scurge afară din pizdă, aproape țâșnind printre labii și pulă... După ce fetele îi curăță, conștiincioase, pulele cu limbile, -- au făcut schimb, Mirela s-a ocupat de cea omenească, iar micuța de cea cabalină, -- „Ni-i-i-ia-a-a-akha" se uită lung la ele și, întorcându-le crupa, pleacă înspre pădure. Fetele schimbă o lungă privire.




Centaurii sunt bine dotați (scato)



AVERTISMENTE

1. Text pornografic explicit, nerecomandat persoanelor cu anumite sensibilități deoarece include descrieri ale unor acte de scatofagie.

2. ÎNTÂMPLĂRILE PREZENTATE SUNT ÎN ÎNTREGIME FICTIVE ȘI NU TREBUIE CONSIDERATE CA AVÂND VREO LEGĂTURĂ CU REALITATEA; NU ÎNCERCAȚI CEVA ASEMĂNĂTOR, EXISTĂ RISCUL DE A VĂ PUNE ÎN PERICOL SĂNĂTATEA SAU CHIAR VIAȚA!

PERSONAJE PRINCIPALE:

MIRELA 

Caucaziană minionă, foarte atrăgătoare, 24 de ani, 1m60, păr șaten roșcat, lung până mai jos de umeri, cu breton peste sprâncene, chip foarte frumos, cu ochi verzi mari, migdalați, nas subțire, cârn, buze frumos arcuite; are sâni mari, rotunzi (implanturi), talie subțire, șolduri senzuale, fese rotunde, tari, picioare solide, dar sexy. 

Exhibiționistă, aproape tot timpul goală și desculță, are un tatuaj „tribal" simplu, relativ mic, la noadă și 69 de piercing-uri, dintre care poartă de obicei între cinci și douăzeci.

Model porno și prostituată, este specializată în sex în grup cu penetrări multiple/simultane și scato.

SHIORI

Japoneză foarte drăgălașă și micuță, 21 de ani, 1m48, își vopsește părul în roz, are chip de păpușă, cu ochi negri; are sâni micuți dar frumoși, cu areole mari, talie subțire, fese rotunde, tari, picioare frumoase; deși arată cât se poate de feminin, este hermafrodită, are în locul clitorisului un penis mic, lipsit de testicule, însă funcțional (erecție, ejaculare, urinare).

Exhibiționistă, poartă rochițe foarte scurte fără să își pună chiloței; are câteva piercing-uri pe care le poartă ocazional.

Prostituată și model porno, este specializată în sex în grup cu penetrări multiple; nu refuză scato.

SOȚUL MIRELEI

Caucazian suplu, între două vârste, 1m80, păr șaten grizonant, ochi căprui, fizic banal.

Scriitor fără succes, este întreținut de Mirela și Shiori. Preferă sexul „normal", așadar participă la orgiile fetelor numai când insistă ele.

PRIMUL CAPITOL

Shiori iese goală din baie, cu părul vopsit în roz închis puțin umed după duș, și aruncă o privire în dormitorul privat. Iubitul ei, soțul Mirelei, stă turcește pe patul foarte mare și se uită cu o figură vag exasperată la ecranul laptop-ului așezat pe suport, în fața lui. Micuța Shiori, chicotind, se suie pe pat, se apropie de el în patru labe, mișcându-și provocator șoldurile și, strecurându-și mânuța în pantalonii bărbatului, îl apucă de pulă în timp ce îi vâră limba în ureche.

- Ce-ți vine? exclamă el.

- Nimic deosebit; m-am gândit că ai putea face altceva în loc să te holbezi la ecran, așteptând să-ți vină inspirația. (Se răstoarnă pe spate, lângă el, cu coapsele depărtate.) De pildă, să mă fuți.

Bărbatul apleacă ochii înspre pizda fetei, peste care îi atârnă, bleagă, mica pulă, puțin mai mare decât a unui copil, pe care o are în loc de lindic; Shiori și-o prinde între degete, și-o ridică, își trage în jos prepuțul, belind glandul rozaliu, și îi face cu ochiul căscându-și pizda cu degetele celeilalte mâini.

- S-ar putea să fie o idee bună -- oftează el.

Închide laptop-ul, îl pune pe noptiera cea mai apropiată și se dezbracă; pula lui, de lungime medie, dar destul de groasă, e deja puțin sculată. Zâmbind încântată de succesul avut, Shiori se ridică în genunchi, îl împinge ușor de umeri pentru a-l face să se întindă, se răsucește, vine deasupra lui, îi linge coaiele, apoi pula, după care o ia în gură; bărbatul, la rându-i, îi suge mica pulă și îi dă limbi în pizdă.

Două minute mai târziu, amândoi au pulele complet sculate, iar pizda micuței e cât se poate de umedă; așadar, Shiori se întoarce, se așază călare pe el, își potrivește glandul mărit între labii și se lasă pe el pentru a fi penetrată; când pula bărbatului a ajuns adânc în vaginul ei, fata se culcă pe pieptul lui, presându-și pula între pubisuri, și, sărutându-l, începe să se miște înainte și înapoi; bărbatul o apucă de bucile tari, rotunde, și își potrivește ritmul cu al ei; după câteva minute, se întorc, el trecând deasupra; micuța hermafrodită îl îmbrățișează și cu brațele, și cu picioarele, și își împinge la rându-i bazinul înspre el, acum ea sincronizându-se cu ritmul lui.

Se mai fut în noua poziție câteva minute și, simțind că iubitul ei se apropie de orgasm, Shiori încearcă să și-l declanșeze pe al ei în același timp, însă nu reușește să îl aibă decât după ce ultimul lui jet de spermă i s-a răspândit în vagin; icnind ușor, fata își desprinde picioarele de pe mijlocul lui, își proptește tălpile pe saltea și se împinge mai mult în el în timp ce vaginul i se contractă ritmic, iar mica ei pulă le udă amândurora abdomenele cu sperma sterilă.

Cei doi mai rămân puțin îmbrățișați, apoi bărbatul o sărută și se ridică de pe ea; Shiori, ștergându-se cu șervețele din cutia așezată la îndemână, îi curăță pula lingând-o și sugând-o, iar când consideră că a terminat, împinge cutia spre el.

- Pe burtă te ștergi și singur! îi spune râzând.

După ce se rostogolește până la marginea patului, micuța sare în picioare și, chicotind, îi aruncă peste umăr când iese din cameră:

- Mă duc să văd ce prostii mai face nevastă-ta!

*

Mirela, tolănită în fotoliu în poziția ei favorită, -- lăsată pe spate și cu picioarele peste cotiere, -- îndreaptă ochii ei mari și verzi către pula încă puțin sculată a lui Shiori și rânjește:

- Iar ai pus-o cu bărbată-miu?

- Păi dacă l-ai lăsat singur, săracu', trebuia să se ocupe cineva de el, nu? rânjește și micuța, lăsându-se să cadă pe canapea, crăcită.

- Nu l-am lăsat singur, l-am lăsat să lucreze.

Shiori ridică din umeri, uitându-se cum prietena ei se masturbează împingându-și ritmic în pizdă un dildo enorm ce reproduce fidel o pulă de cal.

- Lucra pe dracu', se holba la ecran cu figura sictirită pe care o face când nu prea are inspirație. Așa că mi s-a făcut milă de el.

- Și i-ai alungat de tot inspirația, să nu se mai chinuie!

- Ei, aș! I-a venit în timp ce mă futea, nu știi că-s muza lui?

- Ce să zic, muză cu pulă! râde Mirela.

- Poate pe tine să te inspire pula...

- M-ar putea inspira dac-ar fi chiar pulă, nu puțucă -- o întrerupe Mirela, drăguță ca de obicei.

- ...El are treabă cu pizda mea! continuă Shiori, ignorând înțepătura. Apropo de pizdă, care-i treaba cu dildo-ul ăla?

Mirela clipește nedumerită.

- Cum adică, care-i treaba cu el? Nu folosesc tot timpu' de-astea mari, ce te miri?

- Vrei să spui enorme. Nu, te-ntrebam dacă ți-o tragi cu ăla-n formă anatomică pentru că ți-e dor de futai cu caii.

- A, asta... (Ridică din umeri.) Păi da, dacă site-u' ăsta nu ne lasă să ne futem cu animale, fac și io ce pot.

- Eh, nu-i vina lor că unii politicieni n-au de lucru și interzic aia și ailaltă...

- Mda, știu. Și din cauza lor, în loc să mă fut c-un cal, mă frec cu chestia asta.

Shiori oftează.

- Și mie mi-e dor de vremea când făceam filme la fermă... Asta e, n-avem ce face!

- Ba cred că nu-i tocmai așa -- intervine soțul Mirelei.

Fetele întorc capetele spre el; rămas în pielea goală, stă sprijinit cu umărul de tocul ușii, cu brațele încrucișate la piept, și se uită la pizda nevestei, larg căscată de dildo-ul imens.

- Ce vrei să zici? întreabă ea.

- Păi au lăsat o portiță: puteți să vă futeți cu inorogi, vârcolaci, sau cu ce dihănii supranaturale vreți voi.

Mirela se strâmbă, iar Shiori mârâie:

- Da, bine! Noi suntem necăjite și tu ne iei la mișto!

Bărbatul neagă din cap, spunând:

- Nu vă iau la mișto, chiar e posibil!

Soția lui se oprește din masturbare și mijește ochii.

- Ai luat-o razna, sau ce?!

Nouă negare din cap.

- Nu, nici vorbă; tocmai au anunțat că în rezervația de la poalele muntelui au apărut mai multe ființe considerate până acum mitologice.

- Asta ce vrea să fie, o idee pentru nou' tău roman? bombăne Mirela și, dând din umeri, reîncepe să își împingă în vagin macheta la scară reală a pulei de cal.

Shiori doar clipește și se întoarce spre el, fixându-l atentă cu ochii ei alungiți în timp ce pune o talpă pe canapea, depărtându-și mai mult picioarele; ceva în tonul bărbatului îi spune că nu fabulează, dar soția lui e prea obișnuită să îl contrazică pentru a fi remarcat aceasta.

- Nu, e pe bune. Și partea cea mai interesantă e că sunt căutate curve care să se fută cu ele, adică ei, că sunt numai masculi, ca să se obțină mostre ADN fără să fie capturați. E suficient să vă înscrieți în program și nu numai că aveți acces neîngrădit în rezervație, dar mai primiți și bani la recoltarea spermei.

Mirela se oprește din nou, iar Shiori mai clipește o dată înainte de a exclama, cu un zâmbet fericit pe chipul de păpușă:

- Ce tare!! Grozav!

- Și... despre ce ființe ar fi vorba? se interesează Mirela, reluând mișcarea dildo-ului, de astă dată mai lent.

Soțul ei dă își freacă o tâmplă cu arătătorul, strâmbându-se aproape caraghios în timp ce încearcă să își amintească detaliile anunțului.

- Păi... Un inorog... un minotaur și un centaur... un cerber... un grifon, parcă... Nu mai știu, erau mai multe. A, și un pegas!

- Deci din mitologia greacă! zice Shiori, excitată; mica ei pulă s-a întărit în timp record și acum stă curbată în sus. E și un satir?

- Parcă da, da' n-aș băga mâna-n foc.

- Ce, ți s-a făcut să te fuți c-un țap? rânjește Mirela.

- Sigur că da! Și-aș mai pune-o cu cerberu' și grifonu'! Ăia cu pulă de cal ți-i las ție -- adaugă, aruncând o privire răutăcioasă înspre dildo-ul din pizda prietenei ei.

- Minotaurul cine-l vrea? se interesează malițios soțul Mirelei.

- Are doar capu' de taur -- răspunde nevastă-sa, prefăcându-se că nu a observat ironia. Da' dacă are și pulă de taur, îl vreau io; dacă-i de om, i-l las lu' Shiori!

Bărbatul își dă ochii peste cap a „multă minte îi mai trebuie!", iar micuța replică:

- Da' cu pegasu' vrei să te fuți?

- Bine'nțeles, de vreme ce-i un cal cu aripi!

- Ce-o să mă mai distrez când o să-și ia zboru' cu tine înfiptă-n pulă!

Acum, soțul Mirelei clatină din cap, dar cam cu același înțeles.

- Ce tâmpenii poți să debitezi! spune Mirela și se ridică din fotoliu, rămânând cu dildo-ul în pizdă. Hai mai bine să ne futem -- adaugă, așezându-se în patru labe pe jos.

*

Shiori se uită la pula de cal din latex pe jumătate vârâtă în vaginul Mirelei, se ridică la rându-i și, mergând la dulăpiorul cu accesorii, zice:

- Da' nu cu chestia aia.

Scoate dintr-un sertar un dildo lung, cu două capete, se duce în spatele prietenei ei, îi scoate din pizdă dildo-ul cabalin, i-l bagă în loc pe celălalt, apoi îi apucă bucile, i le depărtează, îi linge gaura curului astfel căscată până când anusul se relaxează suficient pentru a-l umezi și în interior, apoi își potrivește în pizdă celălalt capăt al ustensilei sexuale, și-o împinge în vagin și, băgându-și pula în curul Mirelei, începe să o fută; între timp, soțul îi dă muie.

Când pula bărbatului e din nou sculată, Shiori își scoate pula din curul Mirelei și se dă la o parte, ținându-și în pizdă dildo-ul; Mirela rămâne în patru labe, soțul i-o bagă în pizdă, însă ea îl privește peste umăr și spune:

- Mai bine mă fuți-n cur!

Bărbatul îi face pe plac, iar Shiori se așază în genunchi în fața prietenei ei, se apleacă și se sprijină într-o mână, cu cealaltă masturbându-se cu dildo-ul; Mirela începe să îi dea limbi în gaura curului în timp ce îi apucă între degete mica pulă și i-o freacă. Cei trei continuă un timp în aceeași poziție, până când Shiori are orgasm și, în timp ce ejaculează gemând, stimulată de limba fetei vârâtă adânc în rect, scapă niște căcat; Mirela îl ia cu limba, îl bagă în gură, îl mestecă și îl înghite, iar soțul ei are iarăși, surprinzător de repede după ce s-a futut cu micuța hermafrodită, orgasm.

După ce ejaculează în rectul nevestei, bărbatul se așază în cur pe jos să își tragă răsuflarea; Mirela își schimbă poziția: cu tălpile de o parte și de cealaltă a șodurilor soțului ei, se lasă pe vine și, în timp ce îi curăță pula lui Shiori, lingând-o și sugând-o, defechează pe cea pe cale de blegire a bărbatului; excrementul maro, destul de moale, amestecat cu spermă la început, se scurge pe pulă și ajunge la coaie, mânjindu-le și pe acestea. Micuța se așază crăcită pe canapea și, jucându-se cu dildo-ul dublu, pe care îl curbează în toate felurile în mâini, se uită surâzând cum Mirela, acum în genunchi între picioarele soțului, adună cu limba și buzele fecalele de pe pula și scrotul acestuia.

- Stăm împreună de o grămadă de timp, și tot mă amuză să mă uit cum reciclezi căcatu'! zice, chicotind, Shiori.

Mirela înghite excrementul pe care îl avea în gură, se strâmbă la prietena ei scoțând limba -- care este, desigur, maronie -- și spune:

- În loc să faci pe deșteapta, mai bine „reciclezi" și tu!

- Bună idee!

Micuța pune dildo-ul jos, se lasă pe vine lângă bărbatul prietenei ei și, luând cu degetele din căcatul de pe el, începe să mănânce și ea.

AL DOILEA CAPITOL

Fetele coboară din mașină și, făcându-i cu mâna soţului Mirelei, rămas la volan, -- lui nu i s-a eliberat autorizație de acces în rezervație, -- intră în pădurea de la poalele muntelui tocit de milenii de intemperii. Shiori poartă o rochiță galbenă, strâmtă, care nu îi acoperă decât o parte din buci, și a încălțat niște cizme lungi peste genunchi, bej, cu talpă de cauciuc. Mirela e goală, și-a scos toate piercing-urile în afară de cel din limbă, dar și-a pus niște jambiere roșii, groase, pentru a-și proteja gambele de atacurile bălăriilor și acoliților lor.

- Hai mai repede! strigă Shiori, deja ajunsă la capătul dinspre o poieniță al potecii în pantă.

- Fac și io ce pot... -- bombăne Mirela, pășind atentă să nu își înfigă vreun ciot în talpă.

- Măcar de data asta puteai se te-ncalți, aiurito!

Aiurita îi aruncă o privire enervată.

- De câte ori m-ai văzut încălțată până acum, ia zi?

Micuța ezită o clipă.

- Păi... Cred că niciodată.

- Corect! Îți dai seama că dacă merg numai desculță, dacă mă-ncalț risc să-mi rup gâtu', da?

- Exagerezi... mormăie Shiori, uitându-se în jur. E mișto aici, nu-i de mirare că s-au instalat monstruleții ăia.

Mirela ajunge și ea în poieniță.

- Știi, un grifon sau un centaur nu prea intră-n categoria monstruleților...

- S-ar putea să ai dreptate -- murmură micuța, apucând-o de braț, cu privirea ațintită către marginea opusă a poieniței; prietena ei se uită într-acolo și înghite în sec.

De sub bolta de ramuri, o ființă roaibă tocmai a pășit în lumina Soarelui. Cu toate cele patru copite. Și nu e un cal, caii nu au tors, mâini și capete omenești.

*

- Nu mi-aș fi-nchipuit că-ntâlnim așa de repede o jivină de-asta -- șoptește Mirela. Ce facem?

- Păi du-te la el, că doar tu ești aia care se fute cu cai!

- Mda, numa' că asta nu-i tocma' cal...

Shiori se strâmbă la ea.

- Ești culmea! Nu ți-e frică să te vâri sub un cal, da' te temi de-o ființă inteligentă!

- Sper că-i destul de inteligentă ca să nu confunde o curvă cu ceva de mâncat... -- mormăie Mirela, pornind cu pași mici către monstru.

Care monstru le văzuse pe fete de un bun moment și se uita la ele ținând capul înclinat într-o parte. Când cea având pe ea cârpe numai la picioare pornește spre el, face la rându-i câțiva pași înainte, apoi se oprește și așteaptă. Mirela, continuând să se apropie, se încruntă ușor. „Nu se poate!", murmură când ajunge destul de aproape de centaur pentru a fi sigură că văzuse bine: acesta are o pulă cât se poate de asemănătoare cu cele ale oamenilor, plasată între picioarele din față... „S-a dus dracu' futaiu' c-un cal...", își spune, dezamăgită, fata. „Da' măcar o are mare", se consolează. Când ajunge la un pas în fața monstrului, ridică privirea și ochii ei verzi se întâlnesc cu cei căprui ai centaurului.

- Ăămmm... Salut, ce faci? Io-s Mirela, pe tine cum te cheamă?

Centaurul clipește și înclină mai mult capul. „Proastă mai sunt, precis nu ne știe limba...", își zice fata și repetă salutul în cele câteva limbi străine din care știe câte ceva. Nicio reacție. Mai bine abordează altfel comunicarea: îndreaptă arătătorul spre piept, între țâțele siliconate, și rostește cât de clar poate: „Mirela". Centaurul mai clipește o dată și scoate primul sunet de până acum: „Mirrhela".

- Da, da, Mirela! se bucură fata.

- Mirhela -- repetă monstrul, întinzând un deget spre ea.

Până acum, e destul de bine. Mirela se arată din nou cu arătătorul, își repetă numele, apoi îndreaptă degetul spre el; centaurul ridică iar mâna, arată din nou spre fată, îi repetă numele stâlcit, după care întoarce mâna spre pieptul său și spune:

- Ni-i-i-ia-a-a-akha.

Mirela încruntă o sprânceană, întrebându-se dacă monstrul tocmai s-a prezentat sau, pur și simplu, a nechezat.

- Niiaaha? încearcă ea să reproducă ceea ce a auzit.

- Ni-i-i-ia-a-a-akha.

„La dracu', se face noapte până ne lămurim ca lumea -- își zice Mirela. Mai bine abordez direct problema!"

Și, uitându-se în ochii centaurului, se mai apropie puțin și îi ia cu grijă pula în mână; acesta coboară privirea, se uită iar la Mirela, pe urmă îi fixează mâna cu care l-a apucat; fata începe să îi maseze ușor pula; cum „Ni-i-i-ia-a-a-akha" nu pare deloc nemulțumit, îi face semn cu mâna lui Shiori să se apropie, apoi se lasă pe vine și, mângâind încet pântecul omenesc al centaurului, îi ia pula în gură, rugându-se ca în lumea de unde vine să existe felația. Se pare că da, fiindcă „Ni-i-i-ia-a-a-akha" o mângâie pe cap; Mirela capătă curaj și începe să sugă pula așa cum face de obicei.

*

Shiori ajunge lângă ei și se holbează uimită în timp ce ființa mai mult sau mai puțin mitologică abia dacă îi acordă o privire.

- Ce naiba, ăsta nu-i cal cu trunchi de om, e om cu picioare și cur de cal! murmură micuța și, după ce se uită un moment cum se ocupă prietena ei de centaur, începe să îi dea ocol.

Și încremenește.

- Hei, Mirela!

- Mnnhmhmm!

- Știi, cred că iei muie de la capătul greșit... -- spune Shiori, abținându-se cu greu să izbucnească în râs.

- Ce!?! exclamă Mirela și, uitând de orice prudență, se repede să vadă despre ce e vorba. Futu-i!! exclamă când se lămurește ce voia să zică micuța.

Centaurul mai are o pulă. Una plasată ca la orice cal, și arătând ca orice pulă de cal.

- Da' n-am auzit niciodată că centaurii au două pule! bombăne Mirela, fixând pula „principală" care abia a început să se scoale, atârnând de o palmă în afara furoului.

- Probabil că ăsta nu e de fapt centaur. Sau exista cenzură încă din vremea grecilor antici. Nu contează, am o idee!

- Ne futem amândouă odată cu el? întreabă Mirela, uitându-se spre capul lui „Ni-i-i-ia-a-a-akha"; acesta îi întoarce liniștit privirea.

- Știam eu că am o prietenă isteață! chicotește Shiori, scoțându-și rochița; la gândul futaiului, mica ei pulă începuse să se scoale. Tu te ocupi de partea cabalină, eu de cea umană! precizează, descălțându-se.

- Evident... -- murmură prietena isteață, lăsându-se iar pe vine, de această dată sub corpul de cal al centaurului.

În timp ce Shiori suge pula omenească, Mirela o apucă într-o mână pe cea de cal și, după ce linge pe rând coaiele, merge cu limba de-a lungul furoului, apoi al pulei și începe să lingă apăsat glandul enorm, să îl prindă între buze, iar pe măsură ce pula se scoală, își plimbă limba și buzele de-a lungul ei, revenind apoi la gland, unde insistă la deschizătura uretrei, și tot așa; cu cealaltă mână se masturbează, pregătindu-se pentru penetrare. În scurt timp, centaurul are ambele pule complet sculate; cu picioarele larg depărtate, Shiori se agață de trunchiul lui aparent uman, se ridică până ajunge cu pizda la pula lui, și-o potrivește la capătul vaginului și se lasă în jos până îi intră adânc; „Ni-i-i-ia-a-a-akha" o apucă de buci cu mâinile și îi impune ritmul.

Între timp, Mirela, stând aplecată sub corpul cabalin, și-a împins în pizdă glandul imens și, sprijinindu-se cu o mână de piciorul din față al centaurului, iar cu cealaltă ținându-i scula, se împinge încet înapoi pentru a fi penetrată; pula enormă, depărtându-i mult labiile, alunecă încet în ea; când glandul îi atinge cervixul, Mirela se prinde cu ambele mâini de picioarele lui „Ni-i-i-ia-a-a-akha", cu gândul se a începe să se miște înainte și înapoi, însă centaurul, continuând să o miște pe micuță în pula frontală, își încordează crupa împingându-și pula imensă ceva mai adânc, însă cu măsură, în Mirela, și începe să o fută energic, dar fără să încerce să și-o introducă în întregime în ea -- este, în mod evident, conștient de diferența dintre o femelă din specia lui și o femeie. Chiar și așa, când intră cel mai adânc în Mirela, pula enormă care îi dilată aproape dureros vaginul îi bombează abdomenul, făcând-o să icnească.




Centaur's Captive



Sahra frolicked through the high grass, playing with her younger brothers. Sameal leaped from his hiding spot and shouted to Seth and Jarl. The farm was remote and the three younger boys were the beautiful eighteen year-old's only companions.

Suddenly the other reason she was there became important. Hoof beats echoed through the deep valley and she got the boys attention. "Run! Tell father that bandits are near." To cover the small boy's escapes she took up her bow and quiver and prepared to face the horsemen. 

Drawing a bead on the lead rider she was momentarily stunned to realize that they weren't horsemen at all. 

Centaurs! 

The leader easily ducked her arrow and then they were around her. The leader peered at her through light blue eyes that seemed very human. Long black hair hung past his shoulders and over his broad, brown chest. Below his waist was the body of a huge black stallion.

"Brave lovely." His hooves pranced as he snatched the bow out of her hands and laughed as his three companions surrounded her. "So, Golden Hair? How would you like to come home with us?"

"Kill me now, monsters."

"You wish to die a virgin?" He laughed again as she gasped. "I claim Golden Hair for my own!" Strong arms swept her off her feet and carried her away from her valley and her home.

"""""""

After a while he tired of carrying her and swung her onto his smooth, broad back. She was forced by the rugged terrain and the pace to hug the hard flesh of his middle. As the coarse silk of his hide rubbed between her legs, she leaned forward and rested her cheek on the tanned satin muscles of his back.

For days they traveled up steep trails and through hidden mazes of canyons. During breaks she would steal looks at the terrifying man-beast who had claimed her. Virgin she might be, she was also a farm girl who knew the way of things. Daemon, as the others called him, meant to claim her innocence. The huge tool he intended to use was there for her to see each time she slid from his back. It would surely be the end of her.

He stopped to let her rest as the others ranged ahead. Daemon caught her eyeing the swaying rod under his belly and lifted his front hooves in an impatient rear. The head slid out of it's sheath and grew as his eyes roamed over her abundant charms. "Ahh, Golden Hair. You fear my horse cock, do you? If you try to run, I will turn you over to my men and I assure you... you will not survive the experience."

Sahra stepped back and fell to her knees. "Please. Don't."

"Look what you have done to me." Daemon pranced slightly as the alarmingly huge, but not at all horse-like cock grew and swayed. He reached down, pushed the thin fabric of her gown off her shoulders and ran his rough hands over her breasts. He weighed the firm mounds and teased the pink tips until they tautened. "If you don't wish my cock pounding between your legs this instant I suggest you do something about it."

"What?" Came her shocked question.

"Pet it! Take it between your pretty hands and milk it." His voice was low and rough."Kiss it and suck it if you have too - satisfy me this way or I'll take you hard right now... and I can guarantee that you won't like it."

Heedless of her nudity, Sahra crawled forward and gingerly raised her hands to the dripping cock. The flesh felt soft and it moved under her touch. Above her the huge body quivered with the effort to remain still. The hard hooves moved restlessly and she was uncomfortably aware that a single kick could kill her.

"Kiss it!" 

The barked ordered made her jump. Leaning forward she tasted the creamy drop at the tip. It was strangely exciting even as the taste made her shiver. Exciting that she held the power here - for this instant - she could make this powerful being quiver and jerk. Stretching her lips she took the tip into her mouth and licked it as she worked the shaft with both hands. 

This was bad. She was kneeling under an animal and she was enjoying it on some level. The days spent not eating, unless the food was eaten from his hand and the hours spent straddling his back with only a thin layer of fabric between the silky pickle of his hide and her female core, all these things had left her feeling as if her skin was to tight.

She tightened her grip and suckled slightly. With one hand she petted the drawn-up sacks behind the cock and squeezed. The body above her shifted and almost dislodged her. Insanely, she only held that much tighter and sucked harder. 

The first burst of cream shot into her mouth so hard that it slithered down her throat and threatened to choke her. A flood of cream sprayed her face and chest as she fell back onto the ground between the restive front hooves. Looking up she saw the handsome face contorted into an almost pained expression. His hands fisted and then opened as if seeking something to touch. After a moment he calmed and lifted her easily, his face inches from hers. 

She blushed. 

"Don't blush, Sweeting." He looked down into her wide green eyes and smiled. 

"I am lost. Naked...sinful... behaving like a...."

"You are beautiful." He lifted her into his arms and waded into a wild mountain stream. "To see you covered in my spending, looking as wanton and wild as any creature. You are my mate, Golden Hair."

"My name is Sahra!" Coming to her senses she kicked his legs and swam free. "And I will be only what you force me to be!"

"""""""

Part two

"You Will Do It!"

"No!" Sahra changed her mind at the last minute. The ceremony was grotesque and shameful.

"It is the custom." Daemon said quietly as swished his tail and paced the long house were he and the others were gathered. "The alternative to being my mate is to be the camp's whore."

There were no female Centaurs, and only a handful of human women in the isolated mountain village. The half-dozen women seemed normal and happy enough. They greeted the returning hunting party with hugs and kisses. There were almost forty Centaurs living there, from old gray-beards to children. 

To be a Centaur's mate she had to perform the Ceremony. It involved surrendering herself completely to the adults of the village. She would have no dignity or privacy - ever again. Daemon handed her a glass of wine and she looked around at the women and the adult Centaurs that watched from a distance before she tasted the dark, herbal scented wine. "To the lesser of two evils."

"No!" Daemon thumped the stone floor with his hooves. "I will not accept that after all. If you do not wish to be my mate - speak now."

"What do you mean?" Sahra frowned. She studied the dark face as the blues eyes burned into her. 

"Say the word. If you wish it you may climb on my back and I will carry you home with your precious virginity intact."

"It's a trick!" She looked up and tried to read his rugged features. 

"It is not." He growled as he took her upper arms into his hands. He lifted her off her feet and kissed her, his mouth hard and demanding. She held back for a stunned instant and then melted as he slipped one arm behind her back and pulled her close. Without conscious thought her arms twined around his neck. 

Powerful hands - hands that could crush her in an instant shook slightly as he ran them through her silky hair. He nipped her jaw and down the side of her throat. "Stay." The kiss that followed was warm and wet and soul deep. It lasted forever. It ended too soon. She was lost in it.

"I want to stay with you."

"Then do."

"But it's so strange." Sahra bumped her forehead against his chest. "Being shared with others... I don't know if I can."

"It's our way." Daemon held her tight for a moment. "You must wed yourself to the herd. Our women are few - we must capture them - and we must rely on all to protect and love them."

"I...."

"Choose!"

Sahra lifted the thick crystal goblet and looked over the rim. She knew it held more than wine and accepted that. She drank deeply, then licked her lips and smiled nervously. "I choose to stay." She lifted the glass and drained it with a gulp. The she took his arm and let him lead her to the center of the group.

Pots of incense were opened and smoke filled the large building. Rhythmic drumbeats pounded and her skin flushed hot and tight feeling. Daemon stood over her and opened the silken robe she wore, letting it fall to the stone floor. When he touched her breasts it felt as if he were leaving trails of fire. Her rose colored nipples grew so taut that they ached.

"Sahra, mate of Daemon!" His deep voice was hypnotic. "You will become one with our tribe?"

"Yes." Her voice sounded strange to her own ears. 

"You will share your life with the tribe?"

"Yes."

"You will share your body with the tribe when asked properly?"

"Yes." She couldn't stop the words. The drums seemed to be inside her head now... inside her chest... and throbbing between her legs.

"You will bear my sons?"

"Yes."

Daemon turned to the group, spinning her around and holding her in his arms. She leaned back against the hard chest. "She is mine. Treat her with respect for her gifts."

"Yes!" The group agreed. 

One of the women approached and offered a pot of oil. Daemon began to rub the sweet smelling oil over her high firm breasts. Just as it began to tingle he moved his hands lower over her flat belly and into the golden curls between her legs. Once or twice he stroked a spot that made her whimper, then he moved his hands behind her.

The other Centaurs came forward and - one at a time - kissed and caressed her gleaming body. Long fingers traced the inner lines of her legs and slipped into the pink slash between them. Every inch of her body was tasted and caressed by the handsome creatures. She was distantly embarrassed as she felt something hot and wet flow from her body and over one of the questing hands. Her legs lifted, helped by the strong arms of the rampant males. 

"She is ready." 

"Take her to the horse." Sahra heard the elder's words even as she was swept into Daemons powerful arms. The drums pounded in her brain and an answering pulse throbbed in her belly. "Prove to the village that she is chaste."

The 'horse' was a primitively carved statue, with a golden, almost conical phallus behind it's shoulders. The shaft was as thick as her wrist before it widened and joined the rough stone. Daemon lifted her until she was astride the oiled monstrosity. Sahra screamed as he released her and the first inches penetrated her tender pussy. Sure that she was being split in two she clutched at the stone, her hands too slick to find purchase, her feet dangling inches from the floor.

"RIDE." The voices echoed around her. No one pushed her - they didn't have to. Feather soft touches on her breasts and between her legs made her jump and shake. Every breath - every movement caused her body to impale itself further onto the golden staff. Hot, virgin's blood mixed with the oil and the feeling wrenched another scream from her. "RIDE!"

Although the golden phallus was thick, it was mercifully short and soon her bottom touched the rough hewn stone at it's base.

Sahra was sure that she was torn asunder. That her feminine passage was ripped beyond repair. Yet in the back of her mind she knew that a child could fit - with much stretching and screaming - and so would her Centaur Lover.

"She bleeds... she is opened for her mate. Take her to the mounting block."

Again, strong hands lifted her, this time laying her on a sizable slab of stone padded with soft woolen sheepskins. The block was barely as wide as her body and her arms hung limply on either side. Daemon's huge body approached as his disturbingly, perfect human hands traced every inch of her white, silken flesh. Again she arched into his touch like a wanton creature.

Callused hands stroked and lifted her long slender legs as his body inched over hers. Soon she felt the thick, blunt tip of his cock press against the torn and tender flesh of her pussy. Sahra panted and whimpered as he inched into her - she could feel the very walls of her insides blossom and unfold to take him. The coarse hide of his belly rubbed her clitoris almost past bearing as he continued his painful progress.

"Please...Daemon...please...." Sahra moaned as he hit - then pushed aside an obstacle inside her belly. This time when she screamed it was different. Even though she was in pain, her traitorous body clenched around his horse cock as if to draw him completely inside her. She forgot the pain, the crowd watching her and her inhibitions as she opened to his short, potent thrusts. Her legs cramped and trembled as they opened wider than she'd thought possible. "Rip me to pieces... I don't care..."

"She finds pleasure in the first time?" A woman's voice murmured nearby.

"She is rare." The elder leaned closer and ran his big hands over her breasts. "She finds pleasure, even in pain."

The cock inside her seemed to get even larger as she arched and clawed at the glossy hide. Molten heat filled her with every thrust as she closed down and milked his pounding cock with all her strength. Heat flushed over her body in waves as the room went dark and all sensation ceased.

>>>>>>>

Heat and scent wafted around her and Sahra realized that she was in a tub filled with hot water. She was sore, but the herbs in the bath soothed the worst of the aches. Two of the women were washing her as Daemon watched from near-by. She was shockingly aware of the sponge as it washed her tender mound and backside. Small, soapy fingers slipped into her tiny anus and she was cleaned there too. 

At last, they helped her stand and dried her nude body. 

"You are magnificent." Daemon studied her with a hot blue gaze. He held out a box and offered it to her. It was heavy and when he opened it she saw why. A piece of solid silver the size and shape of a gourd lay inside. At one end was a large, artfully carved flower. From the center of the flower flowed a long silky coil of hair. Black human hair. "It is our way. I grew that lock from the time I was a young boy. It was cut off when I reached twenty winters. It was for my bride if I ever found her."

Sahra lifted the gold and cradled it in her hands. "What is it?"

"Your tail, my sweet." Daemon smiled wolfishly. "The last part of our mating ceremony. The silver goes inside you to prepare the way...just as before. The tail marks you as my mare."

"But I'm so sore." She backed away. 

"It won't go there." He took it from her hands. "It goes in back."

Sahra backed away. It was too big. Her fingers didn't meet around the thickest part and the thing had bumps and ridges on it."No I won't... it will hurt."

"You already agreed to take the other Centaurs when they ask." Daemon stroked the long silky tail attached to the gold and silver gourd. "Some will use your talented lips but others will wish to use your lovely ass. It must be stretched and made ready by wearing the tail. You will be harmed otherwise."

"But can't they use my... me like you just did?"

"My sons will be my own."

"But it won't fit." Sahra blushed as the two women turned and showed their flowing tails - one russett and one golden - almost reaching the floor as they sprouted from golden flowers.

"Lean over the table, my love." Daemon sighed. "The more you resist, the more it will pain you."

The women urged her to lay her torso on a wooden table. They spread her legs wide and again oiled fingers filled and stretched her. Then she felt the cold smooth tip of the gourd press into her tiny hole. One woman spread her cheeks as the other cupped her golden mound. "Relax." The woman breathed into her ear while she rubbed her clitoris. 

Even when she relaxed it took several minutes for him to breach her ass. Her eyes watered and she whimpered in pain as he inched it inside of her. With a final twist he pushed it over the widest part and it popped inside, stopped only by the curved petals of the large flower.

Her body tried in vain to expel the intruder without success. "It won't come out until I pull it out." Daemon chuckled. "If it makes you feel better - after the tail is forged - the Centaur is forced to wear it at every festival until he gives it to his mate. So I do know how you feel."

"Full and about to split." Sahra grumbled as he lifted her to lean back against his chest.

"As a matter of fact, yes." His big rough hands pinched her nipples and made her moan. "Now shoulders back, head high. We must join the party and show all that you are mine. Forever."

Sahra straitened and gasped as the thing inside her moved - it's weight a constant painful presence. Several golden bells had been braided into the hair and they tinkled musically as she moved. She took the arm he offered her. In truth she need the support as she took a few ungainly steps.

In the long house, the primal drums again seemed to be so loud that they filled her. Again, the rhythms seemed to echo in the empty spaces under her heart and between her legs. She drew her self up straight and tall as all eyes fell on her. 

"She is my wife. For the next fortnight she will be mine alone. Then all Centaurs grown may ask to share all that is not my husbands right."

They were circled by a pawing, restless group of Centaurs who chanted. "She is one of us and we will protect her with our lives. She is one of us and we will treat her as our beloved."

Sahra still missed her family and she was still afraid and in some discomfort but a strange feeling coursed through her. Her body flushed and the heat she felt had nothing to do with the fires and the intoxicating smoke. "I am honored." Did she just say that? Honored? 

"Serve us women. Show this child how Centaur women behave." the dappled grey-beard who was the group's chieftain clapped his hands. 

The women began to dance. Slowly they slipped off their gowns until their bodies were clothed only in heavily hewn jewelry and flowers. They backed toward the males in a display of wanton sexual hunger. The Centaurs placed a hand on their backs and as they pushed them forward, they twisted the tails protruding from their bottoms. Slipping strong fingers under the flower shaped flanges they pulled and twisted as the women moaned and sighed. 

Sahra became even more aware of the oppressive weight inside her body. Other Centaurs came forward and lifted the women and eased them between their forelegs. Soon the women were caressing and licking the swaying erect cocks as the Centaurs behind them used the silver bottom stretchers to tease and open their backsides. 

Scattered around the long house were the narrow platforms that Sahra thought were some sort of tables. Soon she saw that she was wrong. The women were lifted and laid face down on the sheepskins that covered the narrow blocks. The blocks supported the women's torsos - their heads, arms and legs were left unsupported. 

Soon the women were mounted by the excited Centaurs. Soon they had red dripping cocks pushed into their mouths. The quivering males bent forward and cupped the women's buttocks. Strong hands used the wrought metal stretchers to ream the helpless women pinned beneath them. They would completely remove the ridged metal devices before pushing them back in to the hilt. Soon enough the excitement made their actions frantic and the restive equine bodies lurched back as creamy froth sprayed the women's faces and dribbled onto the stone floor.

The scent of passion was added to the overwhelming fragrance of the long house. The women were lifted enough for the males to fondle their breasts as they mounted them from behind. Sahra was awed by the power of the great creatures and yet touched by the gentleness they showed their human mates. The women didn't seem to be in pain – they seemed to be in ecstacy. 

Sahra felt Daemon twist the heavy, bottom stretching tool deep inside her. She touched her flat stomach, curious if she could feel the intruder deep in her belly. One hand strayed lower into silky golden curls moist with desire. Using just the tip of her middle finger she stroked just inside the narrow, swollen cleft. 




Centaur's Captive



"You must surrender one more prize, my love." Daemon's hot breath tickled her ear as his hand covered hers and pressed hard. "Then you will be one of us." 

Her recently opened pussy drenched their hands with hot cream as she clenched with excitement. Even her fear of what must come next didn't stop her as she turned and kissed him ravenously. "Then let me offer it freely... because I love you."

Sahra was swept off her feet and into an embrace that seemed to last forever. His tongue ravaged her soft lips, then slipped inside to trail fire over her teeth and gums. When she felt that she would faint from lack of air he moved his molten kisses from her mouth to her eyes and ears and throat. The pale pink nipples that stood erect on her snowy breasts were suckled and nipped between his even white teeth. Finally, he licked her perfect ear and whispered, "No one. I shall be with no one else for the rest of my days, beloved."

"But I must be with others?" She asked breathlessly. 

"It is our way." He kissed her tenderly. "I will love you the more for your generosity. And it will always be your choice. No one will force you." 

He lifted her and laid her gently, belly down on a mounting block. He pulled the golden gourd from her bottom and she shivered as she awaited his cock to replace it. Instead he pushed the smooth, ridged device into her again, teasing and twisting slowly until it was back inside her. All the while, his other hand cupped her pussy and fingered her clitoris. The sheep skin under her torso rubbed her belly and breasts until she wanted to scream.

Again and again he pushed the freshly oiled metal into her body until she was whimpering with pleasure. In between he used his long fingers to stretch and open her wider. All at once she felt the broad tip of his cock breach her rear. His thrilling play with the golden gourd had taught her how to take him. She relaxed and pushed back a few inches. 

Her fists clutched at the sheepskin as the pain seemed to radiate hot and liquid over her back. The massive body quivered over her as he paused and tried to hold still. Then another inch was pushed inside of her. Powerful hands lifted her torso and squeezed her sensitive breasts until she wiggled and impaled herself further.

Inch by torturous inch he filled her until she felt his heavy balls slap against her tender pussy. She was once again pressed flat under his course haired trunk with only a few inches preventing his weight from crushing her. Slipping one hand under her belly she felt to see if she could feel him inside her. When he moved she felt her insides shift to accommodate his bulk. Uncomfortable as she was she found this strangely thrilling. Her fingers moved lower and she found the pearl nestled between the lips of her pussy.

The almost frightening sensation of him deep in her body made a dark, ravenous feeling well up in her. When he moved with great care she moaned, in pain but also with pleasure. I'm like a mare in a field. Quivering in expectation while her stallion mounts her and pumps her full of seed. 

The mares had screamed and now she knew why. When he pulled almost all the way out she drew in a breath. When he thrust back in to the hilt she screamed and begged for more. 

The massive cock inside her swelled and plowed deep, each thrust making her shriek. Then her insides were bathed in molten cream that filled her to overflowing. Hot, thick liquid ran down her legs and onto the stone floor. 

Sahra was only vaguely aware of the crowd gathered around, petting her hair as Daemon wrapped her in a silken robe and gathered her into his arms. Her body ached, yet it hummed too. She snuggled into his broad chest and felt safe – and very well loved.

"My bride." He announced to the cheering crowd. "My beloved."

  ~~~~~~~~

Sahra spent the next weeks in a whirl of ecstasy, as her beloved Daemon taught her how to love him. He would sweep her onto his back and swim to a tiny island on the center of a high mountain lake. There in the shadows of the towering trees he used his mouth to make her blossom like a rose. When she was weak from pleasure he would mount her gently and drive her mad with desire. 

The women of the camp welcomed her and showed her the few task expected of them. The other Centaurs would bend a knee and dip their heads in respect when they greeted her and the others. Sahra knew that the survival of the race depended on the human females. When she had children – the though made her shiver with happiness – the children would be a tiny centaurs and surely male. One of the younger males, Barham followered her like a puppy. Daemon would playfully kick at him and run him off. "Barham impatient for your bride-time to end my love." 

Sahra blushed. "Will you mind it?"

"Do I wish that all had a mate of their own. Yes, but we risk much each time we capture a female. Some have to wait... sometimes their whole lives."

"If only the girls of the villages knew what they could look forward to here they would never let the old wive's stories terrify them. They would beg for capture."

"Not all maidens are as bold as my Golden Hair."

"You call me bold." She stepped into his arms and playfully pinched his flat bronze nipples before laving them with her tongue. "Perhaps I should be more timid and chaste."

"You are perfect and you will be chased by Barham soon enough."

~~~~~~~~~

Barham waited until Daemon went hunting. He was at her door with a delicate white flower in his massive brown hand. His dark eyes dipped shyly as he spoke.

"I thought you might be more... I mean if Daemon isn't here you might let me... I never did this and I find you so very lovely." Sahra took his hand and kissed the back gently. Barham wasn't as handsome as Daemon, his features were darker, heavier and his horse hair was the same deep brown as his eyes. She felt a thrill of happiness when his huge body shivered at her touch. "I can do this for you." She smiled glad that she could do this last thing for one of her people. He love for Daemon was so powerful that she'd feared she would flinch at another man's touch.

She led Barham to the longhouse, empty at this hour. She couldn't use the plat that she used with Daemon. He had built the luxurious platform next the little bed where she slept as he stood next to her. That would be too private. 

She knelt and touched his heavy rod, awed at how it grew in her hands. "Thank you." He sighed and shifted his hooves. 

"If this is your first time you will have to be careful."

"I would never hurt you, Lady."

She studied the erect member that was even longer than Daemon's, if not as thick. "Shall I kiss you?"

She was lifted into his arms and her lips were mashed into a clumsy open mouthed kiss. 

Sahra had meant to kiss his rod but this needed work too. She took his head between her hands and softened the kiss. She showed him how to nip and suck her lips. She teased him with her tongue, tracing down his hairless chest to the barrel thick body. Her lips had barely touched his cock when he exploded in her mouth. Now she swallowed and barely wasted a drop. Daemon had taught her much.

"Oh, I am sorry." He sputtered after the last shudder tore through his body.

"We aren't done, Barham." Sahra felt sorry for him. He seemed so young, even though he was her age. She slipped her gown off her shoulders and stood before him. "Shall I show you the tricks that I've learned?"

"Oh Lady." Barham flushed as she kissed his neck and chest. She took a handful of the scented oil and massaged his muscular torso until he was shivering. When she knelt to oil his cock it was already growing hard. She weighed the heavy sack that held his balls and kissed them. "Oh mmm."

She stood and oiled her own body, teasing her pink nipples erect before poring oil into his square palm. "Touch me." He cupped her breasts and the triangle of golden curls below. She turned and bent forward. "Oil and stretch me well, Barham." 

She felt his big hands roam over her bottom and the crease between. One finger slipped inside, making her catch her breath. She hadn't thought she would find pleasure in this. Soon more oil was poured on her back, running down cool and thick. Two thick fingers were pushed deep. "Am I hurting you?" He asked hesitantly.

"Use both hands..." She gasped slightly. "Just a finger or two and open the way carefully." She had to swallow a yelp as he dug in a bit too enthusiastically. "Careful!"

More oil and more fumbling followed until she decided she was ready. She took a step and laid on one of the plats, pulling herself forward until her bottom was hanging over the edge. 

"I'll be gentle."

"Go slowly." Sahra felt him move over her and opened as much as she could. His rod nudged between her plump white cheeks and stopped. "You have to push a little."

He gave a shove and his rod popped inside, sliding on a river of oil. He groaned and pushed again almost lifting her off the plat. "So good." He began thrusting erratically. 

She wanted to tell him to be easy but he was past hearing her. So instead she opened and pushed up and back. The long cock felt like it filled her whole body and the feeling made her melt. Her insides flexed and tightened as she milked his rod and made him thrust one last time and spend. It was the hot torrent that made her shake and whimper as she came. 

He backed away and stood with his head bowed. "Thank you."

Sahra slid off the plat and leaned on it. "Thank you." She was grateful that he was her first – other. She had feared it would be an unpleasant duty at best. Now she knew that while Daemon was her love... her soul... she could serve the others without feeling used or cheapened. 

"I'll be better next time," he promised earnestly.

"But not too soon." She flinched as she knelt and gingerly picked up her gown. "You are large and I am small."

"Next time I will lick and kiss you until you scream for mercy and all I shall ask is the touch of your hand."

"You learn fast." She laughed as she walked off to bathe.

"You are beloved."

~~~~~~~~~~

"You let him? With no one near?" Daemon paced the inside of their home. "He is inexperienced. He could have hurt you badly."

"I didn't wish an audience for my first... sharing." she sat down, carefully. "You told me it was right and proper."

"Not with a young colt who can't control himself." Daemon looked down at her. "The older women were going to teach him when the time was right. It's my fault... I should have told you."

"Strange that his innocent touch left me hungry for your masterful one." She stood and moved into his arms. 

"Masterful?" He laughed and lifted her with one arm. His big hand came down hard on her bottom making squeal. It was a game he had discovered that she loved. "I like that."

He lay her roughly on the platform and proceeded to spank her white ass cheeks until they glowed pink. As usual it made her center swell and grow wet with desire. "Please." She wiggled her bottom and looked over her shoulder at him. 

"You are my mate and I am your master and your slave." He took her long hair in both hands and pulled, tipping her head to kiss before he nudged her open. It was still a tight fit and took all his control. 

"Harder darling," she tipped her bottom up so the heated flesh rubbed on his belly. The pain had long since mellowed into much darker and very enjoyable. She was almost ashamed that she liked it so much. "I want to feel you deep inside me."

This night he seemed tireless as he rode her hard. He trust deeper and longer and when he spent he filled her completely. It was this night that he planted the seed of their first son. 

In later years, Sahra journeyed to the nearest city and told a group of poor young women fantastical stories about the magical tribe of centaurs. The stories so enchanted the girls that several returned home with her and happily became mates. 

The Centaurs no longer needed to capture mates. This meant they no longer risked discovery or death. 

Daemon and Sahra lived long and well and the village has prospered to this day.

The End