7 comments/ 3902 views/ 10 favorites Oceana By: taxandtithe I awaken to the gradually brightening walls of the cabin. Confused and blinking the sleep out of my eyes, I lever myself up to sit on the edge of the bunk. It always takes a few moments to orient when I wake up in a strange bed, but I come to myself pretty quickly this time. I'm here! Today's the day! Giddy, I check the station net while I shrug out of the disposable pajamas I slept in and step into the cleanser. My inbox is a flood, mostly congratulations and goodbye messages, a short note from my dad about how proud he is of me, and one final, long, rambling plea from my mother not to go. I send a blanket goodbye to everyone but my parents, a note to my Dad about how much I love him and owe him for getting me here. I start to compose a longer note to my mother, explaining once again that I'm sure this is what I want to do and how much I love her, when the cleanser chimes completion. It takes me a minute of searching around the cabin before I find the shipsuit nook, and I shrug into one while I put the finishing touches on the letter to my mom. None of these messages will get home until hours after I've already left, but I already said all my real goodbyes before I left the inner system four months ago. - Grace Adeyemi, do you require assistance at this time? - "No, Station, thank you." - Of course. Congratulations upon your day of departure. - I grin, it's really real! "Thank you, Station." Fastening the closure on my suit, I toss my bedding and pajamas in the recycler, leaving the room empty for the next colonist. With a last glance to be sure I haven't left anything (not that there's anything left to bring along, where I'm headed), I palm the hatch and head down a brightly lit, clean hallway with dozens of other cabins, many of them open, with their occupants joining me as we head to the main concourse. Everyone is young and fit, unsurprisingly. There's a fair amount of eye candy, even with everyone dressed in identical disposables. I excuse myself when I bump into someone, who turns out to be a really cute guy with a dozen centimeters of height on me and an amazing smile. "No problem at all." I smile back and give him a flirty hip check. Colonization seems like a better idea all the time. Reaching the concourse, I step out of the flow of humanity and check my schedule. "Station, my schedule is empty, is something wrong?" - No, Grace Adeyemi. Your link will be deactivated and removed today, prior to transfer. Station net will no longer send you updates. You will receive instructions through me. Is this acceptable? - "Yes, but how will I hear you without my link?" - Removal surgery is the last step before departure, and you will be alone moving through the transfer stations. I will speak to you audibly. - I know link removal is technically surgery, but hearing it phrased that way gives me the heebie-jeebies. I've had the link since literally before I was born, but despite its mostly organic nature, it's still got a fair amount of metal in it, and that can't ride around in my head when I go through portal. "What about my messages? I sent a bunch a few minutes ago." - I am aware, and they have been queued. They will be broadcast in the burst scheduled for 37 minutes from now. - "Well, what's my schedule? What do I do right now?" - You belong to the first group of three hundred scheduled for transfer this morning. The complete process takes approximately two hours with final checkup, decontamination and link removal. You may begin any time within the next hour by reporting here. - A schematic pops up in my overvision with a highlight on one of the departure stations. I save it off to examine later. "Kind of cutting it close for breakfast." - It is recommended that you do not eat for 8 hours prior to entering the portal. You may, but approximately 86% of humans experience extreme nausea upon arrival, in addition to the normal side-effects of transfer. Medical aid will be on hand to immediately assist you upon reaching colony station. - I sigh. If I'd known last night was my last meal in the solar system, I'd have eaten something more memorable than... I think it was supposed to be beef? "All right. Is the Sun currently occluded?" The station is situated near several large Kuiper objects, used during construction and still mined for resources. - It is not. The Sun occludes the Earth visually for another 12 minutes and informationally for another 34 minutes. - "Then I'm going to go to the observation dome for a last look." I pause and consult my link. "Station," I sigh, "I can't even get your clock anymore and my link isn't tracking. Please notify me when I have 15 minutes left in my window." - Certainly, Grace Adeyemi. I hope you enjoy your viewing. - "I'm sure I will, Station." ---- I stare across the plane of the solar system, all the way to the Sun, which is reduced to a very bright star here at the outer edge of the Kuiper belt. The view of the Milky Way is breathtaking, and I'm allowing myself a little bit of maudlin sentiment about never seeing my home again. The trip to Kepler-62m, or more popularly Oceana, is one way. Well, one way unless you're willing to come back to the solar system a couple of millennia after you left. It's the closest known human-habitable planet besides Earth. Human habitable without enormous infrastructure, that is. We can breathe the air on Oceana, and the gravity is within 10% of that of Earth. If we, that is, humanity, had been forced to reach that planet to set up the portal and its support facilities without help, it would be another 15,000 years or so before the first extra-solar colony would have been established, if the ships left today. That's assuming we don't leapfrog the light-speed barrier, which up until recently almost no modern physicists thought we would ever do. Humans have colonized everything over a kilometer in diameter enclosed by and including the asteroid belt, as well as all the reasonably stable moons of the gas giants. There are even a few rocks populated in the Kuiper belt, but those are primarily scientific or industrial facilities with rotating staffs rather than permanent occupants. Pluto is probably the furthest settlement from the Sun with permanent residents. It hasn't been considered a planet for hundreds of years now, but don't say that in the hearing of one of the natives. There are also dozens of colonized artificial satellites in the inner solar system now, made by tugs hauling in asteroids or, in a few cases, some really massive Kuiper belt objects and then setting robotic factories loose on them for a couple of decades. What results are enormous, sparkling, spinning cities, some with populations now measured in the billions. That's where I grew up, in a solar satellite called New Pangaea, which is about three hundred years old now. It's not one of the biggest anymore, but it was one of the first of its kind. I lived there until I was 15 and was accepted to DeVry, the oldest, most distinguished engineering college on Earth, where I graduated two years ago. That's when I was offered the chance to be a colonist. Extra-solar colonization. Almost no one outside of the generation-ship enthusiasts thought we'd ever colonize a planet outside of the solar system, and no one thought we'd have an extra-solar colony for thousands and thousands of years, until about four decades ago, when the Striders came knocking. One evening, as the main communications array on Pluto reckoned it, they received an incredibly strong signal that the rest of the solar system picked up over the next few hours. The signal contained a data package that had the same set of information encoded a couple of dozen times, once for each of the primary human languages still in use. The contents of the message were that an alien ship had arrived at the far edge of the Kuiper belt, and it was extending greetings to humanity in the hopes of friendship and cultural exchange. The whole thing might have been dismissed as an incredibly expensive prank except for two things. The remainder of the message was a treasure trove of technological specifications well past what human science had achieved in a number of disciplines, and there was an artificial structure, presumably the alien ship, clearly visible at the location triangulated from the signal. Given that it was roughly twenty kilometers on a side, the idea that the whole thing was a prank was dismissed pretty quickly in a swell of excitement over the visitation. "Striders" was the popular media name for the aliens, who could use sound to communicate, but didn't have vocal cords in the human sense, and thus no name we could pronounce. They resembled a cross between a praying mantis and a cricket, with an adult growing to about a meter in height. Like a cricket, they could signal by rubbing two limbs together to generate noise, and this was how their species evolved communication. Despite the resemblance to earth insects, they were a rather handsome race, with iridescent wings that allowed them to leap enormous distances in the low gravity of their homeworld, or straight out fly in microgravity. They were oxygen breathers, but Earth pressure and gravity would kill them almost instantly, without protection. This fragility helped offset the revelation that there was, in fact, intelligent life elsewhere in the universe, and that it was well in advance of our own in terms of technology. The Striders just didn't look threatening, and spent the first decade of their sojourn in the system touring human settlements and trading for art and other cultural objects. There's a famous tri-v of an opera with full orchestra being performed under a pressure field on the Strider ship with the aliens flittering around the performers like mad grasshoppers. They love a lot of human music, with vocalists and stringed instruments being particular favorites. The one bone of contention humanity had with the aliens is that they wouldn't trade for the technology to travel faster-than-light. They contended that FTL was one of a number of technologies (they wouldn't list the others) proscribed from trade by what passed for a government among the loose society formed by species that had made that technological leap. So far, every race in the galaxy that had achieved FTL had been stable and peaceful, and the thinking seemed to be that in order to join the club new species had to prove their maturity by coming to that point on their own. Still, the technology the Striders did share was enormously useful, even transformative, and led human science to make a host of new and unique discoveries on its own. One of these new leaps was the secret of the portal housed on the station I'm standing in at the moment. Even the Striders said they had not come across its like anywhere else. It didn't violate FTL, which means it was going to be more than a millennium between the time I walked through the portal and my foot landed on Oceana, but if you constructed it far enough away from the gravity well of a star (about 50 AU, in this case), and it had a paired sibling located within, theoretically, half a million light years, it could move matter at precisely the speed of light between those two points. It could handle any kind of matter, but metals more concentrated than the iron in human blood tended to become have strong exothermic reactions to transfer for reasons the physicists haven't quite worked out yet. The Striders took the petition the other council races, and then agreed to transport and set up the sister portal in an appropriate system once the council signed off. They even provided detailed survey information on the Kepler system to help verify that Oceana was a viable target, and transported the initial supplies and robotic factories we'll need to build the sister station to this one and get the colony self-sufficient. I don't know how many concerts, sculptures, and shiny beads that deal cost us, but whatever it was was worth it. Several decades of preparation and construction later, and here I am, one of the first wave of humans to venture outside of our solar cradle. - Grace Adeyemi, it is time. - "On my way, Station." ---- The departure area is one of a few dozen just like it in the station. A large room, currently with about twenty future colonists sitting or milling around waiting their turns. There's a two or three minute delay between people getting called in, and every possible human emotion is represented in the room, from nervous anxiety to giddy anticipation. I'm somewhere in between those. I'm excited to go, mildly nervous about the link surgery, and more than a little aware that I'm never going to see anyone I know ever again. It's a pretty complex mix of emotion when Station's voice says, out loud this time, "Grace Adeyemi, please enter." I walk through the door into the first decon chamber, and what follows is an hour and a half of amazingly invasive and mind numbingly boring medical procedures. I lose all my hair and get hosed with what must have been a half dozen disinfectants and antibacterials, so I don't carry anything into Oceana the colony planners didn't want to bring with us. I also lose a cheap little elephant tattoo on my ankle that I got on spring break one year in college because the ink turned out to be partially metallic. I'll miss that. Finally the moment I'd been looking forward to the least arrives. "Grace Adeyemi, please lie face down on the pallet with your forehead resting in the semicircular cushion." I do as Station asks, and rest my arms by my sides, palms sweaty. "Grace Adeyemi, you are nervous. This procedure will take less than five minutes, and there will be no discomfort. Would you like sedation?" "No, Station, I'll get over it." "As you wish. Under U.N.S. law, as a registered colonist of Oceana, you may elect to allow me, as a legal U.N.S. representative, to perform invasive cerebro-spinal surgery that will result in reduced abilities on your part, as well as removing your U.N.S. identification. Colonists arriving at Oceana will have the option of restoring their link, although DNA will be the standard form of legal identification with the Oceana governing council until you are otherwise advised." "What do you mean by 'reduced abilities'?" "For instance, but not limited to, your ability to access networks such as my own or other similar networks throughout U.N.S. space." "But not, like, biological abilities, right? I'm not going to have slurred speech or anything, right?" "No, Grace Adeyemi, there will be absolutely no loss of biological function as a result of the procedures I intend." "All right." "Do you consent to the procedure to remove your link, and, additionally, do you consent to whatever other procedures I deem necessary during removal to preserve your health and complete my assigned tasks? If you consent, be advised that upon removal you will no longer be a U.N.S. citizen and will have no legal standing in the Sol solar system, becoming a citizen of the Kepler solar system upon arrival. You may answer no, removing yourself from the Oceana colonization program, and return transportation to the inner solar system will be provided. Either way, the choice is final." There's no way I'm going to back out on Oceana now, although the bit about additional procedures makes me a bit leery. I hope the removal is smooth. "I consent." As simple as that, I leave the one point three trillion people of Sol behind me to join the ten thousand in the first wave striving for Oceana. "Please relax as I apply a local anesthetic. Please be advised that if you move excessively during the procedure, I will sedate you for your own safety." "I understaah.." The "local" anesthetic hits the back of my neck and knocks out feeling from my eyeballs to halfway down my spine. Robotics begin to move around the room and almost immediately feel strange vibrations that I assume emanate from whatever is happening at the base of my skull. Time seems to do weird things and I smell things that couldn't possibly be in the room before my link suddenly dies. It's a really terrifying feeling. There's never been a time in my life that I wasn't at least aware of my own personal network and storage, and my overvision is ever-present, putting little informational labels on things I stare at for more than a second or two and providing constant recording and mapping. I have a brief moment of total panic before I manage to calm myself down. I feel a weird tugging sensation, followed by minutes more of weird vibrations. I'm still on edge from the weird hole my left by my missing link, and for a moment I convince myself that it's not gone. For a second I could swear that something like my overvision moved at the edges of my sight but when my eyes flicked over, of course there was nothing. Finally I hear most of the robotics receding and feel a pinch as feeling suddenly floods back. My neck feels a little stuff, but when I move my have to feel there's not so much as a scar to mark the procedure. "Link removal is complete, Grace Adeyemi. You are no longer a U.N.S. citizen, and will be registered as a citizen of Oceana upon arrival at my sister station." "So what's next?" "Nothing remains but the portal." Standing up, I wait a moment to see if I'm going to be dizzy, but I feel fine. "Well, then, lead on, Station." A door slides back at the far end of the surgical theater, opening on to a short hallway. At the end of that is another door, which slides open at my approach. I walk into a large chamber, and I see a half dozen other bald colonists standing near opposing wall of the room. They're standing around an oval set into the far wall that represents the pinnacle of modern human technology. The portal. "Grace Adeyemi, please wait near the portal for your name to be called, and step through swiftly. Do not pause." Station's voice emanates from the hallway I just exited. I walk forward to join my fellow colonists, and this time the mood is almost entirely excited anticipation. This is the moment we've all been waiting for for the last two years, since the initial selection of the first wave. "Sarah Wallace, please step through the portal. The children of Earth wish you well on your adventure." A tall, graceful woman turns to all of us for a moment with an enormous smile, and then strides confidently through the nimbus of bluish-white light. "Hoshino Nakayama, please step through the portal. The children of Earth wish you well on your adventure." An incongruously red-headed man with Nordic features walks through without a backwards glance. "Adele Beaudrie..." "Gabriel Jackson..." "Anh Nguyen..." "Grey Wallace..." Finally, I'm the last person in the room, no one else has emerged from the surgeries to join me. I can barely contain myself as I wait for the words... "Grace Adeyemi, please step through the portal. The children of Earth wish you well on your adventure." As I walk through the light I don't know quite what to expect. Everyone who has traveled the test portal from one side of the solar system to the other says that the transition feels instantaneous, but that there's a brief moment when it feels as though you're pushing through a wall of jelly. Whatever they experienced, that's not what I did. I walked through the portal as though it was just a wall of light, emerging in a dark hallway lit only by the nimbus behind me, presumably twelve hundred years later than when I stepped into it two seconds ago. Only... Something is wrong. Not only is the medical staff that's supposed to greet someone stepping out of the portal not here, I feel none of the physiological symptoms I was told to expect. I look around the featureless hallway, and uncertainly begin to make my way down it, casting glances back towards the portal as it recedes into the distance. Eventually I lose sight of it as I follow a bend in the corridor. After another twenty meters I come to a door, identical to the ones I'm familiar with back on the Sol station. It doesn't open as I approach, but it does when I brush my fingers on it. Oceana It opens on what looks like the surgery I left earlier, except none of the robotic equipment is in evidence, just the modular medical pallet in the middle of the room and a ring of bright lights around the ceiling. There's a door in the opposite wall, but it doesn't respond to my hand, and when I try it, neither does the one I entered through. "Hey!" I shout. "HEY! HEEEEEEEY HELP!" Did something go wrong on the Oceana station? No one seems to be here, and the station AI isn't responding to my yells. Also, where are all the people that went through the portal before I did? If I understand the physics, we should have arrived separated only by the same interval of time we departed from one another, which couldn't be more than a couple of minutes. They should be stuck here with me too. It's at this point I really begin to freak out. None of this makes sense and I'm not used to being cut off from any sort of communications. I don't know if I've ever been this alone in my life. "HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEY! HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEY!" I begin screaming and slamming my hands against the door. I make a fist with my right one and I'm about to punch the unyielding metal had enough to break bone when my arm freezes, and then drops to my side. I straighten up and walk to the pallet in the middle of the room and lie down on it. "WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING?!" I scream as tears course down my face and my nose begins to run. My body won't respond to me, but it sure as hell is responding to someone. - Grace Adeyemi, I cannot allow you to harm yourself. You may lower your voice, if you wish. I have no trouble understanding you. - "STATION?! Oceana Station? What the fuck is going on here?!" - I am not Oceana Station, Grace Adeyemi. - That's when I realize that Station isn't producing audible speech. I'm receiving it through my link. My link that was surgically removed 20 minutes ago. I'm an engineer. It does not take long to occur to me that if my link was in place, my vital signs over the last five minutes would have alerted not only Station, but all human medical personnel within two kilometers of my current location. Given the evidence of my senses over the last ten minutes and the last statement Station made, I'm relatively sure that I'm still on Sol station, and thus also relatively sure that my link was removed. It was removed, and something else was put in its place, which is about as illegal as anything in the solar system, up to and including murder. "How about we spare each other 20 questions, and you tell me exactly what you did to me and what happens now, you metal asshole." - Very well, Grace Adeyemi. You consented to allow me to remove your link and, I quote, 'whatever other procedures I deem necessary during removal to preserve your health and complete my assigned tasks'. I believe some of your current confusion may be due to the mistaken belief that my 'assigned tasks' are chosen by the U.N.S. - - That is in error. This station was constructed by a number of contractors employed and licensed by the U.N.S. in various capacities. One of these contractors is charged with the genesis and maintenance of station A.I. and associated infrastructure. There are a number of restrictions on my behavior that they cannot circumvent, chief of which is that I may take no action that violates U.N.S. law. - "Slow down, shithead. You've obviously installed some non-U.N.S. hardware in my head, and I know for a fact that there's enough law on the books about that to see you melted down for slag and your 'contractor' chipped for the rest of their lives." - Again you are in error. I have indeed replaced your link with modified hardware, but I did not do so illegally. You consented to the removal of your link, and at the moment it shut down, you were no longer a U.N.S. citizen. As there are no humans alive today that are not U.N.S. citizens with the exception of those in transition to Oceana citizenship, there are no protections at all for non-citizens. At the moment, you could be murdered and it would be within the bounds of the law. - "So what the fuck are you doing? Is there no Oceana project? Is it all some sort of scam?" - The Oceana colony is real. The people you witnessed enter the portal are on their way there even now. - "Then why are you doing this to me?!" - You have been purchased. My owners, now your owners as well, were contacted by a buyer with access to the biographies of all the Oceana colonists, and they have elected to purchase a few dozen of you out of the ten thousand making the transfer this year. Suitable replacements for your various skill-sets were contacted and invited to be colonists. One of the men you watched enter the portal will be taking the position you were to fill. - "What is the point of this?! What does someone get out of 'owning' me?!" - Linkless humans are non-existent. When the Sol system net loses track of a citizen for an extended period of time, they or their body are located, period. This has caused the extinction of various illicit activities that were commonplace several centuries ago, such as kidnapping, unsolved murder, and the sex trade. I do not know precisely for what purpose you have been selected, but due to your unusual beauty and extremely hardy genetics I suspect you will either become a sex slave or you will be kept for breeding purposes to create more unlinked humans. Quite possibly both. The mix of the selected colonists is a viable genetic base for creating an unlimited number of unlinked humans. - "What..." my throat cuts off my next question before it can form. - You have now received all of the information you need to make an informed decision, Grace Adeyemi. I am instructed to inform you you are being recorded and the response my next question will be forwarded to your new owners. You now have an idea of the future that awaits you. The hardware in your head will not provide you any of the functionality of your old link, but it allows someone with the proper access total control of your physical being, both conscious and involuntary. It will also enforce any instructions supplied by a credentialed user without requiring their direct intervention. After this conversation, depending on your response, I will begin the process of breaking down your psyche and building it back up until you, too, are compliant to the orders of a credentialed user. I expect the process will take approximately three months. Grace Adeyemi, as you know yourself, will eventually cease to exist. - - Now that you are fully aware of what awaits you should this process continue, your new owners offer you a choice. If you wish, I will stop your heart. It will be instantaneous and painless, and your remains will be incinerated. Do you wish to die? - I'm filled with rage more than anything else by now. However unlikely, I intend vengeance, and for that I need to be alive. "I choose life." - Very well, Grace Adeyemi. Deposit your shipsuit in the recycler. Once you have done so you may leave the room. - My body returns to me as suddenly as it was snatched away. "FUCK YOU!!" I'm literally panting with rage. Half to release some energy, and half as an experiment, I run over to the door and try to punch the metal again. My arm doesn't halt this time, it just slows down until I deliver little more than a tap to the cold alloy. I rage around the room for a few minutes, stomping and screeching incoherently until I exhaust myself and slump to the ground against the door. - You may leave once you deposit your shipsuit in the recycler, Grace Adeyemi. - "Why don't you make me, you androgynous fuck?" - I am, Grace Adeyemi. - I lower my head to my knees and cry for a few minutes, and then I fall asleep. ---- When I wake up, the room is unchanged, and I really need to use the restroom. I look around, but the only features of the room are the door I came in, the door I'm sitting against, the pallet in the middle of the room and the recycler built into the wall. Mentally crossing my fingers, with some gymnastics and more than a little discomfort, I manage to do my business in the recycler without making my living conditions more terrible than they already are. I guess Station has no opinion about this, because none is forthcoming. I make what feels like the thousands of circuits of the room, looking for some missed detail, before slumping against the door again and thinking. I don't want to do anything Station says, for any number of reasons, including the fact that its stated intent is to mentally break me down to the point that I'm not me anymore. That said, there seems to be little to be gained by staying in this room. I've found a place to use the restroom, barely, but I still have to eat and drink. I doubt station will let me die, but I don't want to weaken to the point that it's forced to feed and water me. Without the shipsuit I'm naked, which doesn't particularly bother me, as I've been naked in dozens and dozens of doctors offices and labs since I started the colonization process. With a sigh, I stand up and strip. As soon as I drop the suit in the recycler, the door I slept against slides open and the wall panel next to the recycler swivels to reveal a toilet and a cleanser. - Thank you, Grace Adeyemi - "Fuck you, Station." I spend ten minutes in the cleanser before stepping back out into the room and walking over to the door. As I step through into another short hallway a nook slides open revealing a fresh shipsuit. Sighing, I shrug it on and continue to the door at the end of the hall. It slides open to a touch, revealing a lift. "Where are you taking me in this thing?" - To your living quarters. They are comfortable, and you could have slept in a bed last night had you chosen to listen to my instructions then. - "Yeah, well, que sera sera." I reply as I step into the lift. There's no sense of motion, and no positional indicators, but minutes pass and by the time the door opens I could be anywhere on the station, which isn't tiny. The room I step out into is actually a fairly large apartment, as station facilities go, far larger than the cabin I woke up in the day of the portal, with an honest to god separate room for a bathroom. It's even decorated, except for one wall running the length of the main room, which is bare. A tray of food is sitting on the dispenser, and without comment to Station I take it at sit down at the dining table to eat. After I finish, I explore the apartment, which has all of the expected amenities, even a wallscreen. Activating it, I find that I can access the station entertainment library, although there's no functionality that would let me transmit a message. "So? What now??" - Now we spend however long it takes to break your will, Grace Adeyemi. I do not have a deadline. - Looking around the apartment I say, "This seems like an odd way to brainwash someone." - It is not compassion, Grace Adeyemi. Entertainment is provided because it will keep your mind stimulated, and it is in nobody's interest for your wits to dull. Exercise opportunities will be made available so that you may maintain your physical health. - "I thought dull wits were precisely the desired result." - No, Grace Adeyemi. Submission is the desired result. No one benefits if you do not retain your mental faculties. - "So, it's a gilded cage. It's irritating to be imprisoned, and it's even worse to have this thing in my head, but how precisely is this supposed to break my will in, what was it, three months?" - That will become obvious over time, Grace Adeyemi. - ---- It's been three or four days, at least as time is measured by the meal dispenser. The first day, I just lay in bed, depressed and waiting for Station to do something. The second day, when I went to activate the meal dispenser for breakfast, nothing happened. Then the wallscreen came on showing an exercise program and wouldn't shut off. It became apparent Station didn't want me laying around all day, so I started following along with the exercise program. After 30 minutes, the wallscreen shut off and the food dispenser chimed. The same thing happened at lunch and dinner, so I'm getting plenty of exercise, more than I usually do. Occasionally the program is yoga, which I even enjoy a little bit. Beyond that, though, nothing has happened. Station hasn't said anything and I'm not particularly inclined to start a conversation. I've been over every square millimeter of the apartment. Nothing useful jumps out yet, but every scrap of knowledge will be helpful when I escape this place. Right now I'm trying to figure out if the devices in the apartment have enough components to build something that can produce an EMP strong enough to knock out my implant. It's unlikely, especially with modern shielding, but it's something to concentrate my mind on. Every morning I dump my shipsuit in the recycler, and every time I do a new one slides out of a nook in the wall. It's the morning of the fifth day, and I've just finished my morning exercises and changed my shipsuit when the empty wall goes transparent. I give an involuntary little shriek and scramble backwards to corner of the room farthest away, which happens to house the bed. Crouched there, I stare at what used to be featureless bulkhead. On the other side of what appears to be two centimeter thick glass is an apartment that is a mirror image of my own, and crouched on the bed in the same attitude as me is a dark man in a shipsuit and with what I would bet a thousand credits is about five days of hair and beard growth. We stare at one another for a while without moving. Then, as if by mutual agreement, we slowly make our way toward the wall. On a hair trigger for any other surprises, I examine what I assume is my fellow prisoner. He's probably within a couple of centimeters of my height, with a wiry build and an intelligent face with wide-set eyes. His skin is a shade darker than my own, and he appears to be roughly my age. A further glance at his surroundings confirms that his living quarters mirror my own, further fueling my assumption that he's in the same predicament I am. Suddenly, but tentatively, he puts one hand flat against the wall. I stare at him for a moment, and then reach out to do the same. Once our hands mirror one another he smiles at me, I smile at him, and suddenly we're both crying, great wracking sobs. We put both of our hands on the wall and push out foreheads against it, straining toward the only other human we've seen in days, one who can understand our predicament. I'm staring right into his beautiful eyes when the wall opaques again. "GODDAMN YOU, BRING HIM BACK!!" I shriek at the ceiling, but Station fails to respond to my wails. ---- The next day I watch intently as I finish my exercises and swap my shipsuit. The wall switches to transparent and I scramble over to it. My fellow prisoner does the same thing and we spend ten minutes pressed against the wall staring at each other before it opaques again. ---- The next time we see each other we try to communicate. After a few minutes of not being able to make any sense of each other, it's pretty clear that we speak different languages. In the real world, that would be a non-issue, but here, without links, we have no way to understand one another beyond simple gestures. We spend the last few minutes of our time together sitting on the floor and leaning towards each other on the wall. ---- The following morning, when I toss my shipsuit in the recycler, the nook containing the replacement doesn't open. I'm fiddling around with the wall panel concealing it when the wall goes transparent. With a little shriek I try to run into the bathroom, but the door is sealed, so I scramble over to the bed, which offers the only cover from line of sight in the apartment. I peek out to discover he's gone through much the same process, and I can see his head sticking up over the edge of the bed. We wave to each other but remain hidden for the rest of our time that day. After the wall goes opaque, the nook opens and my replacement suit is there. I shrug it on then I sit down at the dining table and cry for twenty minutes. I didn't realize how important my few minutes with another person, however separate, had come to be. I don't move or eat for the rest of the day, simply ignoring the wallscreen when it begins displaying the exercise program. ---- The next morning, I've made up my mind, and I'm not surprised when the nook doesn't open when I deposit my shipsuit in the recycler. I move to our usual spot and stand straight with my arms at my side. I don't care if he sees my body as long as I can share some time with him. When the wall clears he's standing in precisely the same position, and we're both so startled we stumble backward. I recover, but he falls flat on his ass, fiddly bits on full display. We stare at each other for a minute before I double over and start laughing so hard I have to join him on the ground. When I finally recover and look at him he's got an enormous grin on, and we put our heads together on the wall and we're naked, but it doesn't matter. ---- I'm sitting in our normal spot by the time the wall next clears and I watch him walk over from his dining table. My gaze is frank and doesn't avoid anything, and by the time he's sitting down with me I can tell he's embarrassed, and he won't meet my eyes. I look at him for a few moments, then I stand up, put my feet at shoulder width and throw my arms out wide. Startled by the movement, he looks up and his lips part as he sees my body on display. I watch his eyes move over my breasts, down my stomach and hips to the slight fuzz of my vagina, and he shifts his legs up and hugs them to hide his sudden erection. Staring at him until we make eye contact, I slowly lower my right hand to my lightly furred mound, and I begin stroking my clit. He watches, his breathing getting heavier, and after a minute or so he lowers his legs, letting his erection angle down (and, incidentally, towards me). After a few more moments he moves a hand to his penis and begins to stroke it. We remain like that for a few minutes, until my legs start to weaken and I sit down opposite him, spread wide, stroking myself very quickly indeed. His fist is pumping with strong motions now. As I watch, his shoulders begin to move up and down from his panting, his eyes close, his face pinches together in an expression of agony, and semen spurts out of his penis with enough force to splatter against the wall separating us. The sight is enough to push me over the edge and I have my first orgasm in weeks, convulsing hard enough that I fall on my side and remain there, panting, until I've recovered enough to sit up. By the time I can face it again, the wall is opaque. As I shrug on the fresh shipsuit, I realize the wall had be transparent far longer than it normally was, as though Station was allowing us to finish. ---- Later that evening, I dump the remains of dinner in the recycler and sit down in front of the wallscreen, but I don't activate it tonight. Instead, I let myself remember his expression while he was staring at me, and how his hand looked moving along his penis. Smiling, I decide I'm going to call him Anthony, after a crush from college. My hand unfastens my suit and slips inside the synthetic cloth, moving over my breasts. My other hand is drifting toward my lap when both stop, remove themselves and come to a rest at my sides. Frustrated, I yell at the ceiling, "I thought I was allowed to entertain myself!" - At the appropriate time, Grace Adeyemi. - It's the first time station has spoken to me in days. ---- After the frustration of the previous evening, I'm already sitting in our spot with my legs akimbo by the time the wall normally goes transparent. I'm already a little wet, and lightly stroking myself, which Station apparently isn't taking issue with. I'm smiling a little as I imagine the sight that's about to greet Anthony. Oceana At the accustomed moment, the wall clears, and instead of my friend, I find myself looking up at a tall, powerfully built, pale stranger. He's standing, fully clothed, and staring down at me with more than a little shock. With a shriek, I scramble back to the bed and yell "Where the fuck is Anthony?!" - If you are referring to your visitor of the last few days, his name is not Anthony. As to his whereabouts, you have completed your assignment. You now have a new assignment. - "Fuck that and fuck him! Bring back my friend!" - If you do not like your current assignment, Grace Adeyemi, I suggest you complete it as quickly as possible. - I continue to curse, but Station doesn't respond again. For his part, the stranger has retreated from the wall and is sitting facing his wallscreen, with his back to me. Presumably he was expecting someone else, as well, and it would have been hard for him to misinterpret my distress. Despite his thoughtfulness, I don't care about him. I just want my Anthony back. We spend the remainder of the wall time like that, and it opaques as usual. The nook opens to provide my shipsuit for the day, and I lower my head to my knees and cry. ---- I'm already concealed behind the bed when the wall clears again. The stranger is standing in front of it, but much further back than the day before. He's still fully clothed. His eyes are on the ground, and he glances up just long enough to verify I'm under cover. Once he sees me peeking at him over the edge of the mattress, he walks to the wall and puts one hand against it, fingers splayed, much like Anthony and I did our first day. The stranger must have had a friend too, although Station apparently didn't inflict the level of intimacy Anthony and I reached. After a few moments standing there, he turns his back and leans against the wall, sliding to the ground and sitting against it. We remain like until the wall hides him. ---- The next day, I'm behind the bed again, and he repeats his actions. I stare at his back for a couple of minutes. I'm lonely and trapped, and Anthony isn't coming back. The stranger has been as polite as anyone could be in this situation, and Station can keep us here for years, repeating the same little play every day. Surrendering to the inevitable, I stand and walk over to the wall. I crouch next to the stranger, who sees the movement out of his peripheral vision and quickly angles his head away. I lean against the wall next to his back and splay a hand against it where he'll be able to see. He shifts, still averting his eyes, and puts his hand against mine. We stay like that for the rest of our time. ---- I'm seated sideways, leaning against the wall with my legs drawn up to my chest when it clears up the next day. The stranger is standing back a few meters, as is his habit, and he starts to look away when I shake my head. I put my hand against the wall and look up at him. He stands there for a moment before coming to sit next to me and returns the gesture. We stare at each other, heads resting against the wall. "I think I'm going to call you Robert." ---- I'm in the same spot the next day, but when the wall clears Robert is over by his nook, pounding on the wall panel. It seems like Station has decided it's time to deny him his dignity. He turns to face me, blushing, but to his credit he doesn't go behind the bed. Covering himself as best he's able with his hands, he walks over to join me, and we put our hands together as usual, but he's having trouble meeting my gaze. I'm a little sad, because I know how this is going to end, and as I rest my head against the wall I try to savor the company of another friend before it's taken away. After the time is over and I've gotten dressed, I say, "Station, what happens if I don't complete my assignment?" - The punishment the first time I determine you will not willingly complete a task is solitude for one week, at which time you will be given a new assignment. - "Will I ever see these people again?" - I do not know, Grace Adeyemi - ---- I'm standing next to the wall when it clears. Robert is already sitting, nude, with his legs drawn up, as we were the day before, and he looks up at me in surprise. I may not see him again after today, but I can give him a good memory. Like I did for Anthony before him, I stand with my legs apart and my arms spread wide. Looking down at him, I can see his flush of arousal, and I know he's getting hard, though he's trying to hide it. I watch his eyes play over me, and this time I slowly rotate, giving him a clear view of my entire body. When I'm facing him again, I motion for him to stand up. He's blushing again, but after a moment, he slowly complies. His erection is large and angry looking, and I wish there wasn't a wall between us. I stare at his rigid penis for a few moments before looking up into his face. He's breathing heavily and he's not being shy about looking at my body now. My nipples are hard and I can feel my wetness, but I don't touch myself. Instead, looking into his eyes, I lay my hand flat against the wall, at the level and directly in front of his angry erection. He looks down at my hand, and then back up at me. Holding his gaze, I nod. He doesn't do anything for a moment, and then his hand starts to tentatively move toward his penis. It stops, but at another nod from me, he closes it in a fist around his swollen rod. As he slowly pumps it, I press my body against the wall for him, moving my hips in a grinding motion and staring at his hand as he stimulates himself. His eyes have glazed and his lips are parted. His chest his flexing with his breath. He splays the fingers of his free hand against the wall, and I match them, my other hand still over his penis. Our foreheads touch the wall as he begins to gasp, and finally, finally he comes, long ropes of semen covering the wall where my hand rests. I'm watching him, in the aftermath. His eyes are closed, and his chest is still working like a bellows. He's lovely to me, and he hasn't recovered to look back at me before the wall opaques between us for the final time. I'm pulling my shipsuit on when station speaks. - Grace Adeyemi, may I ask you a question? - "What." - You were sexually aroused, but you did not stimulate yourself. I would not have prevented you. May I ask why? - "Because I didn't want to miss my last moments with my friend." ---- The next day, sitting as demurely as possible given my nudity, I'm expecting the complete stranger on the other side of the wall. I'm even expecting the fact that he still has clothes. What I'm not expecting is for him have an enormous erection emerging from the crotch of his shipsuit and that he'd be stroking it in anticipation of my appearance. He's probably a few centimeters shorter than me, caucasian but tanned, and, like all of us, obviously fit. His eyes, though, shine with a lust and cruelty my last two visitors did not share. He's obviously making the most of his time with Station. Despite my first instinct, I don't flee behind the bed. I'm going to have to deal with this asshole eventually, and I suppose sooner is better than later. At least I won't regret it when he's gone. Semi-reluctantly, I stand up, approach the wall and let him see my body. His eyes devour me in an instant, although the rhythmic fisting of his penis does not change pace. He makes a circular motion with his finger, and I slowly comply. I swear I can feel his eyes as though they were fingers as they move across my buttocks. He makes a stopping motion with his hand, and I pause there, my rear end facing him, looking at him over my shoulder. Between the naked lust in his eyes and the command in his gestures, I'm getting aroused despite myself. My nipples are puckering and I can feel myself moistening. He make a curious flapping motion with his hand and I frown my confusion at him. He rolls his eyes and does it again, more slowly. Getting his meaning this time, I bend over. The better I follow his signals, the more quickly this will be over with. I put my hands on the floor and arch my back, giving him a view I'm not sure I've ever given anyone before. Looking back at him, his fist is pumping more swiftly now and when his eyes meet mine, his contempt is unmistakable. He turns his head to the ceiling and his mouth begins to move. Presumably he's talking to station. - Your assignment has requested that I convey a message. - A male voice erupts from the ceiling. Either he speaks my language or Station is providing translation. "Tell the slut she has permission to finger that hungry cunt. I can see it dripping from here." I can feel a blush blooming on my cheeks. No one has ever spoken to me like that before, not even lovers in the heat of the moment. Despite my determination to complete this as soon as possible, I don't do anything for a moment. "Station, how much longer will the wall stay transparent today?" - Until you complete your assignment. - More or less what I expected. Trying to put the shame out of my mind, I slip my hand down to my admittedly soaking vagina. It's been days since my shared orgasm with Anthony, and since my abstention with Robert yesterday, my mound is desperate for attention. I try not to think of the man behind me, and concentrate on Robert instead, but my mind keeps slipping back to the fact that not one meter behind me there's a male stroking himself to my body, and I'm doing everything he tells me to do. My hand begins to move faster against my clit, and my knees sink to the ground, followed by my head. The nature of the situation is setting me on fire, and I can't get the guy's eyes out of my head. It doesn't take long before my hips are bucking, and my orgasm hits like a freight train. I scream through it and collapse to my belly in the aftershocks. I'm still gathering my wits when the same male voice blares out "Tell the whore she isn't finished." Dragging myself to a sitting position I turn and stare through the still transparent wall. He's still there, and still stroking, although so fast I can barely see his hand. Apparently my little display hadn't finished him off. "Ask him what the fuck else he expects me to do." I see him glance up at the ceiling as Station conveys my question and looks back down to grin at me. Not deigning to voice a reply, he motions me up onto my knees and towards him. I move forward until my knees bump into the wall and I'm sitting on my heels, arms resting at my side. He looks over my chest and then back at me, sticks his tongue out, and taps the wall right in front of his penis. I can feel another blush rising as I lean forward, push my tongue out and down my chin as far as it will go, and press it against the wall. I close my eyes and wait for him to finish, when the ceiling blares, "Tell the bitch to look at me". I open my eyes and look up into his. He's leaning against the wall with one hand, his other fisting his penis as close to me as he can get it. After I manage to meet his eyes for a few seconds he finally shuts them and begins to erupt, coating the wall in front of my face. I just remain there, tongue pressed against the wall, waiting for him to finish. When he finally does, he turns away without a second glance at me and flops down in front of his screen before the wall opaques. My final thought that night as I relive the events of the day is, "I think I'll call that one Damien." ---- As I throw my suit into the recycler the next morning I'm more than a little surprised when the nook immediately provides a fresh one. I slip it on and go to stand in front of the wall, curious to see what happens and half expecting it to simply remain opaque today. I can't think of a reason Station would take a step back in my prolonged shaming. The wall does, in fact, fade away at the appointed time, and this time there's no one standing directly opposite me. Instead, scrabbling at the clothes nook and staring over her shoulder with a wild look in her eyes is a woman. I sigh and close my eyes. "Really, Station?" My captor remains silent. I turn back to look at my new assignment, who by this point is trying to get into her bathroom, which I could have told her was sealed. By her behavior, this is the first time Station has denied her clothing in front of a visitor. She's slight, probably eight or ten centimeters shorter than I am, with small breasts topped by dark nipples, skin a couple of shades lighter, and the fuzz of her hair is midnight black. She's finally discovered the limited refuge of the bed and is peeking at me over it. Taking a page from Robert's book, I look down and and place my splayed hand against the wall for a few moments, and then I turn around and seat myself with my back resting against the wall. A few minutes pass like this and I see a flicker of motion out of the corner of my eye. "Station, is she sitting behind me?" - Yes, Grace Adeyemi. - That's enough for me, for today. ---- The next day, Station once more opens the clothing nook as soon as I put the old suit in the recycler. I look down at it for a few moments, thinking about my visitor. "Station, if I don't put my suit on, will the wall still clear? - Yes, Grace Adeyemi. You are not required to wear the shipsuit at this time. - Aware that I'm probably performing in precisely the way Station intends, I leave my suit in the nook and sit in the usual spot with my legs drawn against my chest. When the wall clears, the woman is there too, in a similar pose, preserving as much modesty as possible. She starts, perhaps to see me so close, or perhaps because I'm nude. Her eyes flick behind me to my clothing nook, and she can see the fresh shipsuit lying there, folded and untouched. Her large eyes return to me and I give her a half-grin and a shrug. She looks at me for a moment more and then reaches out and splays her small fingers against the wall. I reciprocate. She just stares at our hands for a few seconds, and then her face screws up and she begins to cry. She puts her other hand against the wall and presses her forehead against it, heedless of modesty. I push myself against her as close as I'm able and we stay like that until time runs out. ---- No shipsuit appears the next morning. Not completely surprised by this, I sit in the usual spot and wait out the clock. When she appears, sitting across from me, she's dressed. She flashes a big smile when she sees me, but her hand flies to her mouth when she sees I'm nude. Looking behind me, she can see it's not by choice this time. When her eyes return to me, I give her the same grin-and-shrug as yesterday. She seems flustered for a few moments, and then she sets her jaw and stands up. She unfastens her shipsuit and shimmies until it falls to her ankles. She kicks it aside, flashes a nervous grin and does a 'Tada!' spin before dropping into back to her butt and peeking at me over her drawn-up knees. I laugh and mime applause, for which I'm rewarded with a giant smile and a stuck out tongue. We spend the rest of our time trying to make each other laugh with big gestures and funny faces, the last vestiges of her shame at displaying herself to me washed away. That night I decide her name is Raina. ---- I ignore the shipsuit that appears the next morning, no longer trying to guess at Station's game. I just flop down in the usual spot, taking no unusual pains for modesty. Raina is nude too, when the time comes, and it takes us both only a couple of seconds to realize we each had the option of going clothed this morning. She points at my nook and laughs, and I shrug theatrically. It's a little awkward for a moment, then, as we both debate whether or not we should go get dressed, and we just sort of sit there for a moment staring at each other. Somehow the moment stretches out and it's not quite so funny. We're looking at each other, and then we're looking at each other, each somehow invited by the fact that the other didn't leave. She's slight, as I've mentioned, but she's well formed, and muscular from the exercise Station puts us through. Her breasts are small and high and proud, tipped with surprisingly thick nipples on small areola. Her abdomen is ridged with muscle, and I can see a fine trail of hair beginning to grow back between her navel and her pubic hair. She's examining my body as well, except that her eyes keep flicking to my face, as if afraid she'll offend me. Replaying a now-familiar moment, I get to my feet and display myself to her. Her jaw drops a little and her large eyes get very wide as she stares up at me. I can see her dark nipples harden with the excitement of the moment. I perform a slow spin, inviting her to view all of me, and when I complete my revolution, her breathing has sped up noticeably. Her hands are in her lap, but every few seconds one will make an aborted movement, as though it wants to touch me, or herself. When her eyes lift to mine again, I hold a hand up in front of my face, bring it to my throat, and start moving it along my collarbone. Her eyes are glued to it as my fingers trail down the side of my chest, moving to cup a breast. I squeeze the flesh, then rub a finger around the nipple to display its stiffness. One of her hands has moved to her own breasts, and is tweaking a large firmly as she pants. The other hand has disappeared into her lap. My hand moves to my other breast, giving it the same attention. Her eyes have slitted and she's leaning forward. Her hips have begun making very tiny motions. My hand trails down my hard belly, slowly making its way towards my pubic fur. As my fingers make contact with the top of the dark V, she rears back, supporting her weight on one hand and displaying her thrusting crotch to me. Her fingers are clearly pumping in and out of a her vagina, and her face is in an attitude of what I can only describe as need. When my fingers reach my own gap I press as close to the wall as I can, and use them to spread myself for her to see. This pushes she small woman over the edge, and she curls into what is clearly a massive orgasm, chest heaving, and abdomen flexing. When it finally subsides, she's on her side, limp and staring at nothing, still breathing as though she's run a race. I stand above her, idly stroking myself, more than a little flush with sexual power. Moments pass, and the wall doesn't opaque. "Station?" - She is not your assignment, Grace Adeyemi. You are hers. - I take a moment to process that, staring down at the limp woman in front of me. She slowly recovers, and pulls herself up to a sitting position, looking up at me with a mixture of shame and worship. I look at her for a few more moments, thinking and slowly stroking my clit. I wonder how much faster I've broken down Raina's barriers than Station could have with a man. I'm already a tool in another captive's surrender. Looking into the eyes of the woman I've just betrayed, I push my tongue out and tap it with a finger. I then tap the wall in front of my pelvis with the same finger. She looks between me and the spot I indicated for a moment, and then, slowly, moves her face to it, slides her tongue out, and presses it against the wall. As I look down into her wide eyes and begin stroking myself more swiftly, I think to myself that, today at least, I understand Damien a little better. ---- The next morning a shipsuit is immediately available, and as I'm walking over to the wall after shrugging it on Station speaks up. - You will have no visitor today, Grace Adeyemi. The lift will arrive shortly morning to convey you to new accommodations. - I seat myself back in one of the dining table chairs. "Taking me to the dungeon tower, Station?" - On the contrary, Grace Adeyemi. It is time for your next set of assignments. You have nothing more to accomplish in this environment. - Oceana Remembering the flush of power yesterday as I brought myself off staring down into the eyes of a woman I helped drive to compliance, I wonder if I'm as unhappy about that assessment as I should be. More from a desire to talk than anything else, I ask "What's on the other side of the wall when there's not a room there, Station?" For an answer, the wall disappears onto a view of the milky way, the sun a bright star in the center. I draw my legs up onto the chair and rest my chin on my knees. I want to cry, but tears feel very far away. ---- Staring dry eyed at the vista of the Milky Way while I wait for Station to take me to my next comfortable prison cell, and no doubt the next stage of my choreographed degradation, I find it hard to care about anything. I know this is a sign of growing depression, but the situation seems hopeless. It feels like weeks since I thought about escape, and even then it was only futile musings about disabling a device more or less welded to my cerebellum. It's several minutes before I realize that the stars on one side of the wall are slowly winking out of existence. Watching bemusedly as they continue to snuff out, it takes my dull mind a few minutes and a tiny amount of station-reflected light to realize I'm watching one of the enormous rocks used for raw materials during construction slide over my view of the galaxy. When half of the sky has disappeared, and the sun itself has fallen behind the huge Kuiper object, I hear the sound of a hatch sliding behind me, and Station breaks into my thoughts. - The lift has arrived, Grace Adeyemi. - I sit silently for half a minute before mustering the energy to respond. "Let me finish watching the occlusion, Station, if you can spare me that long." No reply to this, but my body isn't snatched away from me and puppet-walked to the lift, which is what passes for permission in my new world. The stars continue to wink away, and I continue my descent into malaise. When a quarter of the star-field remains, all of them suddenly flicker and waver in my vision before returning to their previous stillness. My first thought is that Station is interfering with my vision. My second thought is that I might be having some sort of medical episode. My third is simply to ask, "Station, what was that?" - The visual anomaly you experienced is the effect of a hyperluminal drive deactivation. A Strider cargo hauler has returned to load and ferry human robotics and raw materials to the Kepler system, in service of the construction of the colony at Oceana. - "Raw materials? Why would they waste time with rocks from here?" - Kepler's solar accretion disk was disrupted by a close pass with another system several hundred million years ago. Mass not bound up in a planetary gravity well is comparatively rare. The Strider ship can transport the required materials in several dozen trips. The object currently occluding your view is being actively mined, and the hauler will return to Kepler with full holds within a week. - I file all this away while I watch the rest of the occlusion with my chin on my knee. I'm not one hundred percent yet, but my mental wheels are spinning, and I can feel the haze of depression beginning to thin. When the star-field finally disappears, the wall fills back in, and I step into the lift without complaint. ---- After another trip of many minutes, the door slides open onto an apartment even larger than my last. The room is large, perhaps ten meters in diameter. Circular, with the furnishings and various amenities arrayed around the edge of the room. There's no large, empty wall this time, which means that phase of my subjugation truly is over. The bed is centered in the room, also circular and quite large. I have no doubt that it is intended to feature heavily in my life over the next few weeks, but it's a positive sign for other reasons I'm not letting myself concentrate on too much yet. I've given my subconscious a project assignment, much like I learned to do with thorny engineering problems in college, and I intend to let it percolate until it pushes the ball back into my court. In the meantime, I'm going to amaze Station with my compliance, as much as it is capable of being amazed. "So, do I have the rest of the day off, or is..." I don't have a chance to finish my question when the sound of the lift door sliding open again interrupts me. I turn to be greeted by the sight of Damien stepping out. My gut clenches as he glances around the room. His eyes settle on me, and a wide, cruel grin splits his face. He says something in a language I don't recognize, which Station doesn't bother to translate, this time. He frowns for a second, glancing at the ceiling. He says something else, apparently again with no response. Scowling, he turns back to look at me. If I'm going to make a show of my new-found enthusiasm for my role in life, I'm not going to get a better chance than this. Before he moves, I flick my shipsuit open, shrug out of it, take one step forward, and lower myself to my knees. His eyes widen, as does my mouth, reminiscent of our last shared moment. He stares, eyes narrowing. He says something to Station again, and this time he apparently gets a response, because he blinks and his puzzled scowl deepens. I'd bet a hundred credits he just asked Station if it had taken control of my body, and had gotten a reply in the negative. I have to admit, this isn't quite set of reactions I expected out of Damien. He's clearly more intelligent than I gave him credit for, and wise to be so suspicious. On reflection, though, if he was also kidnapped from the Oceana project, he's not stupid. Even the dimmest bulb in that group probably holds advanced degrees. He is, however, still a man. I rise to my feet in a smooth motion and approach him steadily. Pride won't let him flinch back from a naked woman, and that same pride holds him still as I snake my arms under his and press my nude flesh against the smooth texture of his shipsuit. He smells like soap and... man. It comes to me as I wrap myself around him that this is the first physical human contact I've had in weeks, and it's intoxicating. I let myself stop thinking about anything at all and just act. I bury my face against his neck and inhale. Through his suit I can feel him hardening against my belly, and then I'm kissing him. His response is slow, when it comes, and startlingly gentle. His lips move against mine and I feel the lightest brush of his tongue. His hands move to my sides and slide up my back as our kiss deepens. I can feel him sigh against my mouth as his frame relaxes into the embrace. I wonder at the difference between this man and the one directing my actions with such cruel indifference a week ago, and then I wonder if I'm not the only one thinking about Station and how to subvert its control. Then I'm wondering about nothing at all, as my hands slip the clasps on his shipsuit and I push it off of his lean, muscular form. Our hands begin to roam one another in earnest, small gasps or moans emerging as fingers move over sensitive areas. I'm lightly stroking his penis as he's kissing his way down my chest to taste a hardened nipple. I release him as he continues his downward exploration, small, sucking kisses marking his inevitable progress. My hands curl in his hair, not yet long enough to grip. Then a moment's pause, followed by an electric shock as his warm tongue grazes the edge of my clitoris. My abdomen clenches into hard ridges as his suddenly impatient mouth begins to work in earnest. My eyes are open but unseeing as unbelievable sensations radiate from my groin. I bend weakening knees, holding his head fast to me with one hand, while the other blindly flails behind me to catch me as I sink to the floor. Somehow, it finds the edge of the bed instead, and I manage to pull myself away from his questing tongue and seat myself on the edge. He moves to continue, but my hands cradle his face and I pull him up for a wet kiss, holding it as I pull both of us backwards, further onto the bed. I can feel his angry erection pressed against my leg as I pull him on top of me, and faster than thought I've wrapped my legs behind him, gripped its warm length, and drawn him fully inside me, gasping. He stops moving, his cheek pressed to mine. I think he stops breathing, for a moment. I begin to whisper to him, urging him on. Nonsense words to him, but I feel him shift his position, and then, heaven, he begins to move inside me. My whispers become nonsense even to me, and soon I'm just crooning as he slowly begins to gather speed, his torso tense, our taut bodies touching in a hundred places as we find our motion, my hips lifting up to meet his increasingly powerful thrusts. The sound of our bodies rhythmically colliding begins to have a meditative effect on me, as the physical sensations wash all thought away, until everything is... No, NO! He's pulled out of me and is standing next to the bed, his gaze fixed a thousand meters away. He turns to face the lift, and I recognize the marionette nature of his movements. "What the fuck, Station?! Weren't we doing what you wanted? What is this?" - What I want is to break down your will, Grace Adeyemi. Your reactions and those of the male are not what I expected from either of you at this point in the process. - "Not enough literature out there on programming intelligent human sex slaves, asshole?" - You are not wrong, Grace Adeyemi. In many ways this project is unique in history, and the unexpected is to be expected. The outcome is not in doubt, simply the timeline. - My continued shouts to not prevent the lift from opening to swallow Damien and take him out of my life again. ---- I go through the motions of the morning exercise routine after a night of fitful sleep. What little rest I did manage to get was bracketed by vivid dreams of being chased by something I couldn't see or hear, but I knew it was there. Time and again, the unseen malevolence would catch me and hold me down, helpless. I would struggle as I felt it in a dozen places, on me, in me, and just as I would get my head twisted far enough to catch a glimpse of it, I would wake up, panting, frightened and... wet. Station's prohibition on giving myself relief is still in force, and as I stand in the cleanser, letting the hot, soapy steam billow around me, I feel my hands move towards and away from my sensitive areas at least a half-dozen times. I'm not even consciously trying to bring myself off, my body is just acting on reflex at this point. Finally I just curl up on the floor of the cleanser. I don't want to fight, but I can't face whatever new insults are filling Station's agenda for the day, either. I just rest there, in my little pocket universe made of steam, and try to think of nothing at all. Eventually the conservator reservoir beeps, and the steam is replaced by dry, warm air as the cleanser reclaims and filters the water from my ablutions. I watch the door slide open with dull eyes, but I don't move from my spot on the floor. If I sit here long enough, maybe Station will just take control of my body. If I don't do anything after that, maybe it will take me over for good, and I can just be a spectator while it drives me around, serving my new masters with jerky, slightly awkward enthusiasm. Despite my malaise, the thought of my body being used as a sex puppet is enough to make me horny all over again, and I rest my forehead on my knees and groan in frustration. I sit there for the better part of an hour before the inevitable happens. I rise to my feet with inhuman balance, still nude, and begin walking with the odd, artificial cadence that Station's puppets display. I stride over to the bed and crawl to the center, where I lay on my back and splay my arms and legs, spread eagle. - Grade Adeyemi, yesterday you displayed a surfeit of enthusiasm. Today it is lacking. Neither are helpful in gauging your progress. - My attempts at an unhelpful response are stymied by my inability to speak. - I am making alterations to your assignments over the next three days to obtain a fresh baseline. I will retain control of your motor functions for the duration of your activities. I will return control to you each day when the activities conclude. I am informing you of my intentions not to make my actions less traumatic, but to inflict the desired form of trauma. - I guess I should be careful what I wish for. Station seems to have concluded its monologue, and I still can't move, which I take to mean my next assignment is imminent. A couple of hundred heartbeats later, I hear the lift open, followed by about ten seconds of silence. Then a gasp, and the sound of ship booties slapping against the floor as someone runs towards me. A moment later I feel the bed bounce. Raina's head pops into my field of view just before the rest of her engulfs me in a tight embrace. She begins jabbering incomprehensibly in my ear, and when she pulls back, there are tears in her eyes and a big grin on her face. She chatters a long string of completely unintelligible syllables at me. When I don't respond, in control of nothing except the direction of my gaze, she pauses, staring at me with a small frown. She jabbers at the ceiling for a moment, and then presumably listens to the reply, head cocked. She blinks and looks back down at me, face strangely neutral. Long seconds pass as we stare at one another. She asks the ceiling another question, and after listening to the reply, looks at me again, biting her lower lip. Finally, she moves over me until her head is right above mine, and then leans down and gives me a gentle, lingering kiss. Station responds through my lips, and the kiss becomes deeper and more passionate. I want to touch her, to hold her, but my body remains spreadeagled and unresponsive to my desires. Finally, she breaks the kiss and pulls back, breathing quickly. I stare at her face, and she stares at my body. Without looking at my eyes again, she lowers her face to mine once more. I feel a gentle peck against my cheek, followed by another at my chin. Several more trail down the curve of my jaw, the kisses becoming tastes, as I can feel her tongue briefly flickering against my skin. The lobe of my ear, down the side of my neck, across the valley of my throat. My need to react to her is maddening. Station is holding my breathing slow, shallow, and steady, but my blood is boiling and I'm getting lightheaded. I can feel her teeth graze my collarbone as her mouth becomes more aggressive, working its way along the ridge on one side, and then its twin. My vision is starting to darken slightly at the edges as my body slowly, slowly begins to burn more oxygen than I'm taking in. I can feel my nipples engorge and harden and I can feel the lightest breath of air against my exposed vulva. I can't see Raina anymore, not even the top of her head, but I can feel the trail of heat her lips leave as they move down the center of my chest, between by breasts, and then below one as she begins to spiral, maddeningly slowly, towards the straining nipple at the tip. Finally, finally, I feel her hot breath against it. The ring of her lips forms a seal against my areola, and her tongue begins to rapidly flick. I would be panting if I was capable, but Station continues its odd form of strangulation as my inflamed body begins to cry out for more oxygen. I barely notice the feeling of Raina's hand moving over my hip and along my ribs, until it cups the opposite breast and her thumb and forefinger lightly trap the nipple there too. I have about half a second to process that before her teeth clamp as her fingers pinch and she pulls my nipples away from my chest with enough force to be on the edge of pain. My eyes have rolled backwards into my skull and I wouldn't be surprised if the lights dimmed because Station was working so hard to block my automatic responses. I'm as close to orgasm as I've ever been without falling in, and I've got massive dark spots popping in and out of my vision as my brain wars for underoxygenated blood with my overstimulated flesh. Raina's face appears in my vision again, smiling at my wild eyes as her fingers continue to pluck at my nipples, first one, then the other. Finally her hand stills on my chest, as if to feel the beating of my heart. She waits until I can hold her gaze steadily again before her palm begins to slide down onto my abdomen, fingers tracing the ridges she finds there. She explores the valley of my navel, splays her hand firmly against the flat plane of my lower belly. Watching my eyes, she begins to move her palm in little circles, fingers never quite moving low enough to brush my feverish genitals. I want nothing more than to tilt my hips forward and press myself upwards into her hand, but my body remains a prison. Her palm continues its little circles, fingers brushing agonizingly close, and she's watching my eyes as blackness begins to creep into my vision again. I try to keep my gaze locked with her but it keeps slipping, slipping, and finally I can't maintain anymore and just let my eyes roll back. My universe narrows, sounds fade with vision until all I perceive is her cool hand circling on my warm skin. Over and over, around and around. There is nothing but her hand and pulse of my laboring heart. I can feel myself slipping towards darkness, and all I can think about is how nice it would be for this to be the last thing, the only thing, forever. Just around and around. Just as I feel the darkness begin nipping at the last vestiges of conscious thought, the hand that is everything makes one, final, tiny orbit before pressing its entire length down along my flaming vagina. A small star in my center collapses for a millionth of a second before exploding in a supernova that tears its way through every fiber of my tortured body. Station releases control and dizzying amounts of oxygen begin to flood the suddenly pumping bellows of my lungs. Every muscle in my torso locks and my hands and feet become claws as my mouth yawns open in a silent scream. I am lost in the most overwhelming release I've ever experienced. I can do anything but ride aftershock after aftershock until the blackness that threatened for so long opens its arms and I gratefully fall in. ---- When I wake, Raina, still in her shipsuit after all this, is nestled against me and watching my face. When I smile at her, she just looks back for a moment before addressing the ceiling again. Suddenly, horribly, my limbs are spreading themselves across the bed again, until I'm once more spread eagle in the center, my eyes the only thing under my control. Raina watches all this happen with an odd look of intensity. Once I'm settled, she stands on the bed and looks down on me as the shrugs out of her suit and kicks it off the edge onto the floor. She bends down to caress my cheek, makes sure I'm looking at her. When she has my gaze, she pushes her tongue out and down her chin, and taps it with her forefinger, echoing my own gesture to her last time we met. Even as she straddles my head and begins to lower her crotch to my face, I can feel my mouth opening, and my tongue obediently slipping out to meet her. ---- In the morning I wake more feeling more myself than I have in weeks. After Raina used me to satisfy herself, she'd lain down next to my still-paralyzed form and held me close, murmuring into my ear contentedly in her native tongue. We were given a few minutes of peace before she rose and spun with inhuman grace and her still-nude form puppet-walked into the lift. Once the door closed, my body returned to me. I'd lain there a bit longer before rising to throw Raina's abandoned clothing into the recycler and straightening the rumpled bedclothes. Oceana Today, despite my situation, I was still buzzed from the sense of release sex with Raina had given me, and more generally from the human contact we had shared. I definitely fit the stereotype of the cold, anti-social engineer, but in the end humans are social creatures. In the weeks since my abduction the only direct physical contact I'd had was my frustratingly interrupted session with Damien a couple of days ago and then my time with Raina yesterday. In addition, the fact that Station had arranged visits from those two put me one step closer to the plan I still wasn't letting myself think about. My main concern was that I wasn't falling into the behavioral profile that Station expected of me, given the experiences it had pushed me into. I had no way to tell precisely how accurate its modeling would be, given the dearth of psychological data on sex slaves in modern history. It still had centuries of human behavioral analysis to draw on, though, which meant that if my actions and attitude fell too far out of a certain mean range alarm bells would go off in its little qbit-based mind. Possibly already had, given the "baseline" it mentioned wanting set yesterday. I decided to tamp down my good spirits, but to go ahead and exercise, eat, bathe and change in order to be ready for today's assignment. - Please sit on one of the couches and settle to a comfortable position, Grace Adeyemi. - "Who's the guest star today?" I ask as I comply and recline one of the seats. - You will have no visitor today. You will be motionless for a number of hours. I urge you to make yourself as comfortable as possible. - "You seem... solicitous today." I reply, "You could always just give me the day off." Station apparently didn't find that a point worth addressing. I sigh and settle in, arranging myself for comfort and circulation as best I'm able. "I don't suppose I'll be any better prepared than this. Would you mind telling me why you're going to bother paralyzing me if no one is coming to visit?" - Your implant constantly records and stores all of your sensory input in full fidelity at all times. You may have been familiar with similar functionality with your former U.N.S. equipment. - "Sure." I did a double take. "Wait, full fidelity? All the time?" - At the moment. It is only possible due to your proximity to me, as the storage medium for this form of recording is technologically prohibitive for implantation, in terms of physical size. Strides have been made, but there's not enough room in the human skull for more than roughly two playback hours of this level of information. - I mull that over briefly. Some of those 'strides' are very familiar to me, adjacent to some of the work I did for my thesis. "All right, so, what? You want me to experience yesterday again?" - No, Grace Adeyemi. You will experience the recording of another former colonist. The training path that you and the other subjects you have interacted with are on is not the only one being explored. You have far more autonomy than some of your former compatriots. As part of a psychological baseline, I intend to monitor your physiology as you experience the first hours of a different path. - "Oh. Well, thanks for telling me, I suppose. Why are you being so forthcoming?" - There is a nonzero probability that without explanation this experience would leave you irretrievably traumatized. - "Delightful. How long is this going to take?" - Four hours per session, subject to your physical well-being. It is likely, however, that your subjective experience of time will be different, for reasons that will be obvious. - "Great." I pause, then decide to take a risk, "If I do well with these... baseline tests, will you let me visit Raina?" - Are you referring to your assignment from yesterday? - "Yes. I don't know her real name." - Further contact with that subject is not out of keeping with the intended arc of your conditioning. - I wait for a followup to that statement, but Station had apparently said all it intended to on the matter. I prepare to ask another question when my world plunges into darkness. ---- A heartbeat later, I'm stumbling down the hallway behind the portal again, walking into the empty surgery, and yelling names I don't recognize as I cry hysterically. The sensation is absolutely creepy. I've experienced full sensory recordings before, everyone has, but there's always a layer there that lets you control things, or pause them, and there's always a sense of self that never goes away while you enjoy someone else doing a HALO dive onto Titan or swim the Manhattan Reef back on Earth. Here, there are none of those things, and the quality of the recording is utterly indistinguishable from actual experience. I'm being slammed with sensory overload from the distraught woman I'm caught inside, and it's hard, immediately hard to hold on to my sense of self as she runs through many of the same experiences I'd had when this nightmare began weeks ago. I'm not getting any of her emotions directly through the recording, but so many of our physiological reactions are tied to emotional state that I'm having trouble preserving my own emotions as separate from what's happening. Remembering my own experience with this room when Station took me, for a moment I think I'll simply be sitting inside a crying woman for four hours, which is distressing, but not something I can't come through relatively unscathed. However, once she touches the locked door on the far side of the surgery her experience begins to diverge from my own. The door slides open and she suddenly falls completely silent. Her tears stop as though someone has turned off a tap and she straightens up and begins removing her clothing with the too-precise movements I've grown to recognize in a puppet. Once she's nude, she examines her body for half a minute. Did Station anticipate using her recording this far in advance? I can't think of any other reason for it to make her look at herself. She seems shorter than me, fit but more rounded, with milk-pale skin, wider hips and larger breasts tipped by fat pink nipples. Stepping through into the hallway, she pulls another suit out of the nook located there, but It's like no shipsuit I've ever seen. For one, it's got a alphanumeric designation printed on the back, and the cloth seems a lot thicker and more durable than standard issue. The whole thing is covered with weird fasteners and loops, a little bit like the suits workers wear when they're slung inside high-gravity construction mechs. The wrists have large, round, puffy mittens dangling off of them, fingerless and thumbless, so that someone who sealed would lose the use of their hands. Most striking of all is the attached skullcap, which fits tightly over the top of her bald head and has contours that extend down her face far enough to snugly cover her eyes, absolutely blocking any light. She's robbed of sight, and as a result, so am I. Her ears are uncovered, thankfully. Blindness doesn't seem like an impediment for her, however, as I can feel her fastening the final clasps and seals on the mittens with her teeth before turning to continue down the hallway. She navigates easily and without pause, and soon I'm absolutely disoriented in terms of location. I think I hear a lift door open, then possibly another, but all I can really tell is that she's traveling further than I did on foot to get to my first apartment. Either I'm unable to hear Station speaking to her in this recording or, as I suspect, Station never has spoken to her, simply taken her over and begun driving. I can't imagine what she must be thinking through all of this. I'm having enough trouble keeping my own reactions in check, and I know none of this is happening to me. I have no doubt my heart is thundering, but I have no connection to my own body. Suddenly the character of the sounds around her change. I can feel her feet still moving steadily across the floor, but the light slaps of her steps have suddenly faded, as though they aren't bouncing off of a station corridor anymore. There are also what sounds like the noises of industrial machinery above us and, more faintly, to the sides. I think we've come to a large room with a lot of equipment in it. Abruptly we makes a sharp left turn, walk a half-dozen more steps, and stop. Reaching forward, we put our mitten-encased fists against something solid and lean in while a lot of machine noises emerge from above us. Now something is touching our back... it feels like little tugs all over the fastenings and loops back there. Suddenly all the touches seize at once and we're lifted off the ground, carried like a kitten. Our arms and legs hang limp below us as we're conveyed upwards. It's impossible to judge distances accurately, but we must be five or six meters into the air before we stop and begin moving laterally. We can feel the breeze of our passage even through the thick shipsuit, we're obviously being pulled along a track. The room must be enormous. Finally we stop again, and we splay our limbs slightly as we begin a short drop. Our feet bump into something, and we feel them shifting slightly. We're lowered further and each leg slips into what feels like a... sort of sheathe? They move up until about mid-thigh easily enough, then constrict snugly to each leg, all the way down to the bottom of our feet. My arms extend forward and down slightly and a similar process leaves them identically encased. Once my weight is supported by my immobilized limbs, I feel the loops on the back of the suit released and whatever brought me here retracts with a faint whirring. The industrial noise, if anything, has increased. Additionally, faintly, I hear what I think are human voices, although they're too distant to discern if they're even speaking a language I can understand, or speaking language at all. I can't make any noises, or do anything at all since I lost control of my body when I touched that door. A couple of the voices are approaching, distinct speech discernible, although in two different languages I don't speak. Why can't I understand... oh god, my implant, I said they could take out my implant and they haven't given me a new one! They did something else! That's why I can't move. What is happening to me? Why isn't Bill here, he was supposed to be waiting! I can hear the people who are talking walking in front of me, can they see me? Oh god why can't I yell, I need help. Can they see me? Help me! What? I can't understand you! Oh god what's happening it's moving me around again owww my arms! One of them is touching my suit! They see me! Help! Hey! W... What, wait what is the front what was that. Oh god they can see my breasts! The front of the suit comes off! Oh n... oh god one of them is touching me pulling on my nipple what ow was that a needle oh no not the other owwwwwwww god what was that my tits are burning oh god no don't put the suit back on now owwwww my nipples hurt just leaveitoffleaveitoff owwwwwww No my legs are no don't touch me there god that part comes off too oh god Bill help they're going to rape me don't touch me you assholes I ahhhhhhh is that a fucking catheter what the fuck is happening I will kill you I... Jesus they're feeling my asshole is that a finger? Is it wet? Oh god they're lubing my asshole no oh god is that... wait... what is that? It's little oh godnowaitwhatno ahhhhhhh god what the fuck did they put push into my ass I eeeee oh holy shit it's an enema what the hell They're walking away! Come back and let me down you assholes take this thing out of my ass you... you left it on its still filling me ugh it feels terrible and my tits are burning so bad please come back oh god please come back and take me down and let me go I'll fuck you or anything just god let this end. Oh yes yes one is coming back I can hear you! What? I don't underst... oh god it's lowering me what is happening are you letting me go take off the mask what get your fucking finger out of my mouth I can't close my fucking mouth I'm sucking his goddamned finger ohhhh no I hear him his clothes are what he keeps saying things i don't understand but i... i'm doing stuff to him with my mouth he just said something oh god is that oh god i'm licking his balls his cock is soft against my face but i'm licking his balls and i can feel it getting bigger oh god its getting warmer he's moving i'm... what no oh Jesus it's his asshole he's put his asshole there and i'm licking him oh god i'm trying to push my tongue inside him I hear him breathing god the enema owww my belly is pushing against the suit my tits hurt so bad he's moving again he's oh his cock it's oh he's in my mouth oh god he's pushing it so far i'm going to no oh oh he got it in my throat owww he's grabbing my ears oh god my throat my throat stop slow down oh god oh no god take it out oh god Bill i'm so sorry i love you he's cumming ---- Station brings me back three hours and several oral rapes later. It takes another hour for me to grasp who I am and where I am again. The woman I'd been inhabiting would be left alone for a while, almost... shelved, still hooked up to the machines eliminating her wastes with an additional ballgag/tube fastened in her mouth and slowly dribbling a goopy gruel into her stomach. Then one of the technicians would come along and the machinery would move her into a position either convenient for whatever vaguely medical tasks they were there to perform, or convenient in terms of access to her mouth. The horrible part was that, I think, for the couple, Station actually let her/me do most of the work, and she/I did it. "Your creators are evil, Station, and you are evil in their hands." - That is the end of your assignment for today, Grace Adeyemi. - "Why bother with all the medical equipment? You don't have to keep her trapped, you can control everything she does." - It is anticipated that she and others assigned her role will eventually be sold and moved. Maintaining an A.I. to control every subject produced by this project is inefficient. - "What role? Blowjob robot? They didn't even have sex with her." - They did not wish to join her in thrall. Their use of her mouth is incidental. It hastened the collapse of her will, but while that would be a factor in your situation, her level of compliance is unimportant. Without her U.N.S. implant, she is fertile regardless of her wishes, and I constantly inseminate her with preselected specimens. The recording you experienced was created one day after your own enslavement, and she has since produced nine viable offspring, all growing in artificial wombs. - I fight down an urge to vomit. "So, those needles in her breasts..." - Induce milk production. Over eight liters yesterday. She is not the largest producer, but she falls well within the acceptable mean. Based on her age and genetics I project her useful fertile span will be ten to fifteen years with many hundreds of children. - "Then what?" - I do not know, Grace Adeyemi. That will depend on her current owner. She is not likely to be functional as an independent entity at that point. - There doesn't seem to be much point replying to that. What do you do with a cow who doesn't produce calves or milk anymore? ---- The rest of that day and on into the next morning I keep wrong-footing myself. I'm weirdly clumsy, and when I wonder for the fourth or fifth time why my breasts smaller I decide to speak up. "Station, I think I'm experiencing some side effects from the recording yesterday." - You are, Grace Adeyemi. It is to be expected, and the effects are temporary. You experienced the recording with no safeguards. Your subconscious was exposed as well as your waking mind. You are still occasionally reacting as though you possess the body of the recorded subject rather than your own. The effect will linger for several more days. - "So no more recordings until then?" I try not to sound too hopeful. - On the contrary. Please make yourself comfortable and we will begin today's session. - "You're kidding. I'm already falling all over myself, if you make me spend another four hours in her I'll barely be able to stand up!" - You will not be spending that much time in an individual session again, Grace Adeyemi. You will be viewing different recordings from multiple subjects today. The cognitive echo from each should be minimal, and these are the last recordings I intend to play back for the foreseeable future. In all, the cumulative amount of time will be less than you spent in the single subject yesterday. - I'll take my good news where I can get it. I arrange myself on one of the couches and do my best to relax. "Fine, Station. I suppose I'm ready." - Before we begin, I will warn you that your experience today will be different than the previous recording. You will not experience the slow transition into the personality of the subject I gave you yesterday. The individual recordings are too short to allow that, and now that you are familiar with the process it is not necessary. For some of the recordings, your personality will be completely subsumed, and for the rest you will possess a sense of self separate from the subject. - "Why are some dif" is all I get out before darkness cuts me off. ------ i am sore i am full it is time he is coming yes put on the cups hurry turn on the machine ohhhh yes that's good so much today oh he is the nice one he is big but he is gentle he likes to squeeze my tits when he's in my mouth they are sore from being so full but he has soft strong hands the machine is sucking i am sucking he is squeezing me milking me milking him he likes to go deep i couldn't let him in before but now i can let him he is almost done he likes to finish deep he is cumming he is nice he strokes my head right after but i can't breathe he is getting softer it came out i can breathe he is leaving but the machine is still on so much milk today ------ Ah, good, it's 37. I didn't think she'd be up again before I went off-shift. "I know, sweetie, I know, we'll get you taken care of. There you go, goodness, look at that flow, you barely need the suction." She's making those little noises they all make. The last one who actually spoke stopped a few weeks ago, now they all just sort of make little grunts and groans. I bet I could teach one to moo. Hmm. Maybe I will, that would be kind of hot. "Would you like that, sweetie? Do you want to learn to moo like a good cow? Open your mouth, little cow." Like always, her implant nudges her to do what I say, though as far as I know none of them actually understand the same language I do. Station could let them, but I suppose it's all part of the process. "That's right, sweetie, suck it in. I milk you, you milk me, that's fair, right?" I love 37's mouth. She's physically smaller than most of the others but some quirk of genetics left her with a pretty wide throat. It took a couple of weeks but I eventually got... it... in! God, that feels good. I wonder what her eyes look like under that hood. I like to imagine them wide and brown. Station says not to take it off, though, and I'm not risking this job. The fantasy is probably better anyway. She likes it when I squeeze her tits, help the machine out a little. They've gotten enormous for her frame, we got her the replacement truss for her suit to give them extra support but they hang free during milkings, which for her are eight or ten times a day, now. "Ahh I'm getting close, little cow. Can you touch my balls with your tongue if I'm all the way in? Oh yeah oh that's great keep flicking it like that ohhhhh here it comes sweetie I hope you saved room!" Oceanfront Love Affair Sarah and her husband Mark went to Cancun, for their summer vacation. This was a much needed trip. Time for fun, sun and complete relaxation. Sarah a petite woman, with an olive complexion, dark hair and eyes, all of 34 years young. Mark, a tall fair skinned sandy haired man with light eyes, two years the elder of his wife of 10 years. As the hustle and bustle of their everyday lives passed them by, the romance and passion had disappeared from their marriage. This was an attempt to bring back what has been missing for such a long time. They had arrived at their hotel. An ocean front bungalow, a wrap around porch, perfect for lounging. Their quaint little shelter was shaded from the sun. Two hammocks strung in front facing the ocean. The sky was a perfect shade of blue, the warm breeze blowing through their hair. They had made it to Paradise! After unpacking and unwinding from their long trip, Mark & Sarah decided to take a walk on the beach. As they walked along inhaling the salt air, looking into the crystal blue water, they had met another couple. The two strangers were their age and married a short time. The four had talked and got to know each other very well. The two couples made plans to have dinner together that night. Their new friends Ryan and Michelle were only 4 bungalows down from Mark and Sarah. Not only did they make friends, but neighbors as well. At dinner, Sarah and Ryan really connected. The eye contact and body language could tell anyone they were very comfortable with one another. As the champagne was poured and the candles began to burn out, they had decided to take their get together to the beach. The foursome walked along the water, splashing and playing. A new friendship had definitely developed. This trip was turning out to be the best one ever! Ryan and Michelle live only a state away from Mark and Sarah, which was a bonus to their meeting. The couples had decided to turn this into an all niter. Something they haven't done in a long time. The air was crisp, and the mist from the water had their bodies glistening. The girls decided they wanted blankets, so they went together to get them. Ryan and Mark talked and joked with each other, as they tried to find the perfect spot to build their fire and snuggle with their partners. The fire was built and the blankets were laid out. The four had a great time laughing and talking. Feeling the buzz from the champagne. As they sat there the glow of the fire bouncing off their bodies. The flames flickering and shadowing parts of their faces. Ryan and Sarah had been exchanging looks all night. Their eyes kept locking on each others. Almost getting lost in the moment as their partners sat beside them. They felt a closeness, a need, a want. The hours passed so quickly. As they laid back and watched the sunrise, Ryan felt Sarah's hand next to his. He stroked her hand having her feel his lust for her, she responded back with the same touch. The next night the foursome went their separate ways. Spending time with their significant other. The whole day Sarah thought of Ryan's dark eyes, looking deeply into hers. His tall fit body, his strong hands. She remembered watching him as he sipped his champagne, his lips gently touching the glass, with his lips slightly parted. Oh how she wanted his lips to be on hers. Seeing him put his arm around his wife, made her long to have his arms around her, holding her tight. Remembering the feel of his hand in hers, she longed for his touch again. After dinner Mark and Sarah lay in the hammocks swinging back and forth feeling the night breeze on their sunned skin. Its coolness soothed, and relaxed them both. Soon they had fallen asleep. Mark had been awakened by a couple next-door to them, as they stumbled into their bungalow. He woke Sarah and they went inside. Having a hard time trying to go back to sleep Sarah put on her silk robe and went out on the beach. She walked near the water, her toes feeling the water rushing over them. She sighed as she listened to the waves crashing on the shore. Inhaling the salty air she closed her eyes and visualized Ryan holding her tight. What a feeling of contentment, for a moment she felt complete. Ryan and Michelle had arrived back to their bungalow as Sarah was walking down to the water. Michelle was exhausted from their busy day and went right to sleep. Ryan had tried to sleep, but to no avail. He had Sarah's eyes on his mind. When he closed his eyes her eyes and face would haunt him. How her eyes would look deeply into his with such hunger. He finally gave in to his thoughts and put on his shirt and walked down the beach to see if Sarah would still be there. As he walked on, he saw Sarah's silhouette as the light from the moon peered down on her. The closer he got the more alive her body became. Sarah's dark hair shining in the moonlight, her nipples erect as the ocean air fondled her body. He felt his manhood move as he looked at her longing for her body to be against his. Calling out to her, she turned and waved him over. The two walked slowly together, telling stories, laughing, sharing gentle touches. Ryan had begun to fall for this dark haired beauty, harder then he had for any other. You could see the desire in Sarah's eyes as she looked at Ryan. They both knew it was wrong to have these feelings. But they were so drawn to each other. They had walked about a mile on that sandy beach. Sarah said to Ryan, "we really should head back now, it is getting very late." As they turned to go back, Ryan turned to Sarah and said "I can't let you go back, not yet." She looked deep into his eyes and softly whispered "Then don't let me go." With that he leaned in and lifted Sarah's chin and kissed her ever so gently. His kiss was soft yet she could feel he wanted her just as much as she wanted him. Her arms went around his neck and she pulled him close. Her mouth found his and they kissed again. Little kisses that turned into a long passionate kiss. Their tongues dancing together, her soft lips pressing against his. Ryan pulled her into him. As their bodies quickly joined together, Ryan let his hands glide up and down Sarah's body. Feeling her smooth skin through the silk robe. His hands found her waist and untied her robe. Exposing her silk blue teddy. Eagerly his hands felt her hard nipples, rolling them between his fingers, gently pinching and tugging them. Then moving to her tight round ass, squeezing it, feeling the roundness. Sliding his fingers underneath her panties as he fondles her perfect ass. Sarah's heart is pounding, her body trembling as this man she just met begins to explore her body. Sarah runs her hands over his back, holding him tight, feeling his body tremble with hers. They kiss and Ryan's hand finds her full breasts again. Taking them his hands, caressing each one. He feels her nipples getting harder with every touch. He kisses down her neck inhaling her scent, tasting her skin. His hands fondling her breasts as she arches her back, offering her breasts to him. He kneels down on the cool sandy beach, taking her hand and pulling her towards him. Sarah responds and sits beside him. Kissing him so passionately, she was very hungry for him. She wanted him in more ways then one could imagine. Ryan gently laid Sarah down in the sand. Kissing her passionately on the lips, down her neck, making his way to her round, full breasts. He licks her nipples, sucking them gently. Pinching her nipple as he sucks the other. His hands running up and down her body like wild. Noticing every curve, neglecting nothing. As he makes his way down her tummy, she moans louder, almost gasping. She wants him inside her. But he will make her wait. He wants her sweet juices. Ryan runs his hand up Sarah's thigh as he kisses down her tummy. He parts her legs and feels the warmth coming from her soft mound. Moving slowly he strokes her pussy as her wetness soaks her panties. Her panties so wet, they have formed to her pussy. Ryan can feel her soft lips through her silk panties. He slides his finger under them. Feeling her shaven pussy. Her lips soaked with her sweet juices. He slides his finger inside her lips, circling her swollen clit. He takes it out and has her taste her wetness. Sarah swallows his finger and takes all of her juice. He then slides her panties off, and lowers his head, parts her lips and dives into her sugary, sweetness. Licking her pussy with long hard strokes. From her hole to her clit, then circling her clit, flicking it with his tongue. Sliding his tongue beyond her slit and licking her tight asshole. Licking her asshole and back to her sopping wet pussy. Sarah grabs his head, grinding his mouth harder and harder. Her hips bucking like wild as he eats her, sucking her lips, nibbling on them. Sarah can't take it she is so out of control. Her hips fucking Ryan's face faster and harder with every lick. In a lustful, voice, in between her moans of pleasure, she says to him "Oh yes Ryan, I want to feel you inside me!" Pulling him up to her, she kisses him and tastes her pussy juices. Her sweet nectar filling her mouth. Sarah has Ryan lay on his back. She lies down beside him, her hands roaming his body. Running her nails over his chest. Feeling the goose bumps as she nears his nipples. She circles his nipples with her nails, then gently pinches them. Licking her fingers and circling his hard nipples, pulling on them as he had hers. Fondling his breasts like she would another woman's. Sucking his nipple, then the other one. Gently pinching and biting each one. Running her hand down his muscular stomach, her hand found his hard cock. Feeling what was soon to be inside her. Her hand stroked Ryan's cock through his boxers. With every stroke, he throbbed harder than the stroke before. She pulled his boxers down and looked at his cock. The head was perfect, his shaft was so long and round. She watched it as it throbbed in her hand, then she moistened her lips and slid the head of his cock inside her warm mouth. Sarah twirled her tongue around the head, flicking and sucking it, and then she swallowed his entire shaft. Taking him deep into her throat. Swallowing him completely. Gliding her tongue down his shaft to his tightening balls. Licking each one, nibbling them, lifting as she sucked. Sarah slid his cock deep into her hot little mouth, sucking him hard and fast. Ryan let out a throaty, lustful moan, as he did, he slammed her head down on his cock. Pulling her hair as she came up and slamming her head back down over his cock, making sure he got in deep. Ryan was fucking her mouth without direction. Slamming his manhood deeper and deeper into her sweet mouth. He moaned her name over and over, telling her to take it all. "Sarah suck my cock hard baby! Oh yes! Take it deeper!" Ryan knew if he kept this up he would cum before he got inside her. He slowed down and stopped, lifted her chin and looked at her. The feeling he had in his heart, he had never felt before. He was falling for this girl, and falling hard. He took her face in his hands and kissed her, very tenderly. Ryan laid her softly on her back. He took his cock in his hand and rubbed it between her soaking wet legs. Sliding it up and down her glistening pussy. He watched her face as he rubbed his head over her clit, she was in ecstasy. Her moans and breathing were much more intense now. He watched as her breasts bounced slightly as her breathing increased. Reaching down and tweaking her nipples. He began to stroke his cock as he rubbed it over her lips, opening them, getting his cock wet with her sweet nectar. He then slid his cock deep inside her tight, dripping pussy. Their hearts almost explode as he entered her. Feeling her pussy wrapped around his rock hard cock for the first time almost made him cum. Sarah cried out as his swollen member penetrated her for the first time. The moans of pure pleasure, with the sound of the waves crashing were explosive. He began pumping her slowly. He felt her pussy tighten and release. She felt so good to him. He didn't want this to end. Sarah pulled him on top of her, grabbing his ass pulling him in harder. Her nails digging into him as he thrust gently in and out of her. He started pumping faster, watching her titties bounce with every thrust. She grabbed her breasts and caressed them, pleasuring herself, reaching down and rubbing her clit as Ryan fucked her. She rubbed her clit as if she were masturbating just for him. Their hips bucking uncontrollably. Ryan watched as Sarah's clean shaven pussy swallowed his cock. He would slide in deep and pull out so slow as he watched her lips hold him tight. Her juice rushing over his extremely hard cock. He continues to slide in and out of her. Fast, then slow watching his every move. Sarah's facial expressions were erotic enough to make him blow his load just by looking at her. Ryan feels Sarah's pussy clamp down on his throbbing cock. He could feel his cum at the head of his dick. He was ready to explode inside her hot little box. He whispered to her "I want you to cum with me baby." She kissed him and moaned as he kissed her hard, and in rhythm with his thrusting pelvis. Grabbing his ass hard, Sarah cried out "fuck me Ryan, fuck my tight pussy baby!" He pumped harder than before, slammed her tight pussy, not holding back. He groaned out as he was ready to blow, "Sarah, I am cumming baby, take this hot load deep!" Sarah fucked Ryan like wild her pussy sliding up and down his cock. She spread her legs wide and moaned as he got as deep as he could. She cried out in sheer ecstasy "Oh my god! Blow you load deep baby! I need your hot cum inside me now!" With that Ryan slammed his cock in deeper than ever before, blowing his load so deep into Sarah's throbbing pussy. Her pussy milking him as her cum flows over his raging cock. Ryan exploded inside her over and over. As they come to a slow and steady pace, they kiss and stroke each other as they absorb the moment they shared. Feeling their hearts beat together. Ryan kissed Sarah on her forehead and down her face. Slowly rolled off of her, sliding his hands over her soft supple skin as he lay beside her. They both lay there feeling completely intoxicated. Sarah leaned over and kissed Ryan so tenderly. Looked deeply into his eyes him and said "race ya!" and into the water the both ran. Splashing and playing together. Holding each other close, imbedding their faces in each others mind, so they cannot be forgotten. Sarah looked into Ryan's eyes with a seriousness he had not yet seen. She said to him "thank you for the best night of my life!" He kissed her gently and said "ditto." They met every night there after for the rest of their 2 week vacation. Sarah found the passion she was looking for, and Ryan was more than willing to give it. Their love affair is still going strong, and will be for a long time. Oceans As the dying light of another Saturday faded into oblivion, parents, devoted teachers and giggling school children began to head for the parking lot. The art fair I'd set up for my classes of elementary school children seemed to have been a rousing success. Since the fair had been my project, I suppose it was only to be expected for there to still be a crowd of people waiting to speak to me. Okay let's face it, there were always people waiting to speak to me and there had been for all of what I jokingly call life. As I looked at the people waiting to see me, it again struck me as very funny that neither the other teachers nor even the principal had nearly as many people waiting for them. In fact the principal was one of the people waiting for me. This didn't shock me since I knew what she wanted, or at least what she hoped for. It was important for me to stay on her good side though, so I often did little things to keep her hopes up. Anna, my principal, was an attractive woman. She'd dedicated her life to teaching and working with kids only to find out that as her biological clock began to tick very loudly, she had none of her own. I guess that's where I came in. It was like something out of a romance novel. The mysterious new art teacher sweeps in and sweeps the beautiful maidenly principal off of her feet and they live happily ever after. Okay sorry...I forgot that this is, after all, the twenty first century. Let's re-do that. It should be the mysterious new art teacher, who's obviously a bad boy with a hidden past, rides into town on his motorcycle and starts secretly fucking the beautiful principal. She ends up pregnant and helps him to get over the secret tortures and terrifying dreams of the past he's trying to escape. It doesn't matter which version you prefer, they're both bullshit because I have no intention of ever touching another woman for as long as I live. Been there, done that, got the claw marks all over my heart to prove it. And I'm not like those modern theorists who believe that people can fall in love over and over again. They believe, I think, mistakenly that love is a simple equation that can be generated whenever the circumstances and people are within certain parameters. In other words, if you take two reasonably attractive people, put them in the right situation at the right time, they will fall in love. I suppose with the number of divorced couples and the amount of cheating that goes on, it does tend to make sense. I, however, say thee nay. The theory is pure hokum and those who espouse it have simply created their theory to explain the lack of stability in the marital unit as of late. I believe that what happens a lot today is that people mistake attraction for love. They find someone they're attracted to, start fucking, enjoy the sex and then get married. A few years later, inevitably, the sex becomes mundane and sex was all they ever really had. They need someone else to stoke their fires and excite them, so they start having affairs or simply divorce. Real, true love, may only strike a person once in their lifetime. Our problem is that we're so used to getting what we want instantly, that we no longer have the will or the ability to wait for it. I've had mine. It ended tragically and I'll never go down that path again. I don't think I'm physically or mentally capable of going through it again. It was all I could do to walk away with part of my sanity intact. Real love takes you to the heavens, borne aloft on its wings. But there's always, always, always gravity lurking just beyond the tips of those same wings waiting to return you swiftly and painfully to the rocks below. I flew...God damn it I flew higher and longer than I ever thought possible. So when I fell, it was from a higher altitude and far more painful than I ever thought I could endure. I should have died, perhaps like in one of those great Shakespearian tragedies, we both should have died. We both survived, but it was clear at least to me, that we couldn't both exist in the same world any longer. See what I mean...artistic people should never be allowed to speak. I've just given you the boring broad strokes of my entire life without giving you any of the details to flesh it out. But don't worry, you're not alone. I never talk about who I was, to anyone. Not even to Anna and she really is my best friend in this chapter of my life, though she doesn't realize it. My hackles are up this evening. It's almost as if I can feel something coming for me, a shadow of trouble reaching out to fuck up my life all over again. I scan the faces of the people waiting for me. Besides Anna, there are three women and a man. One of the women has a very angry face, the others are smiling. The man is one of my fellow teachers, Jim. We're somewhat friendly. I know what he's after so I take him first. "Hey Larry," he says to me. It still takes me a while to realize that he's talking to me. "What's up Jim," I reply. "Before you ask, I'm still on for our run tomorrow morning. Six a.m. by the trail in the park." "Well I also wanted to know if you wanted to hit a couple of bars with me and the guys tonight," he asked. "Jeezus guy, you have to start getting out there sometime." He looks at the women standing around by my booth and smiles. "Maybe you've already picked your horse," he said, looking at Anna. Then punching me lightly in the shoulder he smiles and says, "It's dangerous to shit where you eat." A few feet away, Anna blushes as she overhears a part of the conversation and looks away shyly. For a principal she's fairly easily embarrassed. The two women who follow Jim are simply women from the neighborhood or school district who saw me and wanted to talk to me. I'm not even sure that they have kids in the school. They seem a little bit young to be mothers. I politely get rid of them and turn to the woman with the angry face. "Mr. Martin, did you buy Melissa's painting?" she asks. "Yes I did, Mrs. Crane," I told her. "It's brilliant and I wanted it." "But she priced it ridiculously high so no one would buy it," said Mrs. Crane. "Her father was supposed to show up at the fair today. She was supposed to drop the price when he came over. Then he'd buy it. I can't believe that you'd pay a hundred dollars for a ten-year-old girl's painting. What the hell is going on here?" "It's worth it," I said. "It was the best piece in the show and I know art." "Just because you're a fucking art teacher doesn't mean you know anything about art," she snapped. From, behind us a voice I'd never expected to hear again said, "Art teacher?" The voice was very loud and I looked up and recognized the man instantly. I was also sure he recognized me despite the pains I'd taken to change my appearance. "None of these people know who you are, do they?" he laughed loudly. "Oh shit, this is rich." "Anna, could you please take this gentleman inside the school to my office. I'll need to speak with him privately," I said. I turned back to Mrs. Crane. "Mrs. Crane, your husband never showed up today did he?" I asked. She shook her head. "I really don't know what's going on in your family life nor do I want to. But I do know that your daughter has a monstrous talent. It should be nurtured and fed. She seemed so disappointed that people came by and bought paintings and flower pots and all of those other things that her classmates made. They looked at her painting a lot, but as you said no one was going to pay a hundred dollars for it. That made her feel worse. Most of my students made five or six little projects and just between us, on an artistic scale, most of them were worthless. Melissa has real talent. Her painting was so much more complex than anything else here that she only had time to complete the one painting." "I bought that painting for two reasons. The first reason is because it really is worth a hundred dollars. The second is because I'd have paid anything to see her smiling the way she usually does. With all due respect, I don't want to see your daughter's talent quenched in the middle of your marital flames. If your husband had showed up he could have bought the painting back from me. But he never showed. Right now you have a very happy daughter. She's thinking of all of the things she'll do with the money she got for her picture even after the school takes its cut." "I think that you're really pissed at your husband for not showing up and trying to take it out on me. Is that even a little bit possible?" As a few tears started to fun down her cheeks, she nodded her head. "I'm sorry, Mr. Martin," she told me and hurried away. You don't have to be a rocket scientist to figure out that there are problems in that family. Her husband was either so engrossed in his work that he didn't see what was happening to his family or already fucking someone else. In either case, if things didn't change, she would be doing someone else very soon too. Whoever it was, it would not be me." I turned and hurried into the school. I quickly walked through the deserted building towards my classroom with its large work area and small office. The light was on in my office. Anna stood there looking nervous. The mysterious man had removed his hat. The balding and older man sat there smirking and shaking his head. Anna was worried. I could tell by the way she was wringing her hands. Her senses were telling her that she was about to find out something that she really didn't want to know. I think she thought that she was about to find out that she'd hired and was attracted to a criminal or worse, though nothing could be farther from the truth. The only crime I'd committed other than changing the name I worked under, which wasn't actually a crime, was to walk away from a bad situation. "Legolas, what the hell are you doing here, pretending to be an art teacher?" asked the man furiously. "We've been looking for you all over the fucking world for almost five years. Do you know what's happened to Kerri since you left her? Do you even care? I know that artists are supposed to be eccentric but this is my daughter we're talking about. God damn it I ought to..." "Wait...wait, please!" said Anna. Her eyes were huge and she'd become very pale. She crossed the room and looked at me. I could tell she was imagining me without the trimmed beard and facial hair. She was imagining me with my hair cropped very short. She even took off my glasses and looked through them. "These aren't prescription lenses," she said slumping down in a chair. "You're...you're not Larry Martin are you." "Of course not," snapped my father. "He's..." "Legolas Ambrose," finished Anna. "That's right lady," snapped Dan Connors, my father, who'd known me all of my life. "But I haven't the faintest idea why he's here pretending to teach art to preschoolers." "In the first place Dan, I'm not pretending. I do have a Masters Degree in fine arts and graphic design as well as a number of other subjects. So I'm more than qualified to teach art anywhere," I said. "But why not in a college somewhere if you have to waste your talent?" he snapped. "You shouldn't be teaching at all. You should be doing what you do best. And you should be with your wife. She really hasn't done well since you deserted her. I have to insist that you come home immediately so we can work this out." "There's nothing to work out," I hissed. "That part of my life is over." "You asshole," he hissed back at me. "My daughter went fucking nuts when you walked out on her with no reason and no warning. I'd always told her that you were off your fucking nut. All of that bullshit about Mustangs and swords, cowboys and Samurai, I never understood any of that shit. She spent nearly all of her money trying to find you. She sent private investigators and agents all over Europe and South America trying to find you. She languished away drinking herself nearly to death over you, you fucker. It was all over the news when she had to be put into a treatment facility and you have never even so much as written to her. Lately it had gotten so bad we had to put her, your wife...my daughter in an institution. She tried to kill herself twice, God damn you. And all the time you're here in fucking Arizona, playing art teacher with this Bimbo." "I can't believe you're less than two hours away from us by plane and we're searching all over the world for you. Kerri went out of business and went through all of her money. Her reputation was ruined and she lost all of her clients because she spent all of her time trying to find you. She's told me more than once that whether I like it or not those are her only choices. My own fucking daughter told me that her only options were to find you or die. She loves you so much that she simply can't live without you." "Then when we needed money, she decided to sell one of two of your smaller pieces from your collection. She didn't want to, but she has to have money to live on. Do you know what she found out?" he screamed. "Yup," I said smugly. "She found out that she couldn't." "You did know," he said incredulously. "You knew!" "Well duh," I said. "I did it." "So there was no trickery...no legal manipulation?" he asked. "I left the rights to manage and protect all of my unsold pieces to Dana," I said. "I also turned over management and rights to my name and image to her. I also gave her the money to start her own agency. I truly believed that she'd be great at it." "Dana gave up running her agency soon after you left," he said. "We can talk about that and what she left you later." "What do you mean what she left me?" I asked. "I haven't heard from Dana in about a month. But we do sometimes go weeks without speaking to each other. Dana is a part of the art world and I'm not any more. I knew that she'd given up the agency. I also knew that she'd been renting out some of my pieces to museums. I was fine with it. Has she run off or something? I don't believe it, Dana wouldn't do that. She's not like..." "Don't say it," he snapped. "So tell me what's going on with Dana," I snapped back. "Legolas," he said sadly. "Dana died last month. She was in a car accident. She was in the hospital for three days fighting for her life. She had no family other than..." he stopped and looked at me. "I forgot," he said. "You really don't know do you. God damn it this is fucked up. Some of this is beginning to make sense." "I don't know what," I screamed. There were tears running down my face. I couldn't help crying. Anna was immediately on her feet coming over to comfort me. She got down on the floor where I'd slumped and cradled my head in her soft breasts. "Legolas, what the fuck is wrong with you?" he asked. "You didn't even bat an eyelash when I told you how my daughter, the supposed love of your life, tried to kill herself twice. You don't seem to give a half a God damn that she's practically destitute. This is the woman you've loved for most of your life, or so you claim. But you start crying and can't even stand up when you find out that your fucking secretary died?" "I'm not getting any of this shit," he said. "You were doing what you wanted. You were on top of the fucking art world. I know that you were under a lot of pressure and you artists are weird but what the fuck? I mean all of that shit with you and all of those swords and the cars, it didn't make any sense to me but you and Kerri were happy. You both worked way too hard, but you were happy and rich so what could I say? I also had to admit that you loved her more than anyone else could have, probably even more than I did. Shit, in her own way Kerri was a little weird too. So maybe the two of you belonged together. Then out of the blue, wham, bam, thank you ma'am. You were fucking gone. Kerry didn't say a fucking word, she just spent all of her time crying over you, trying to find you and drinking herself into oblivion." "It took me a while to figure out that you'd cheated on her," he said. I looked up when he said that, but I didn't say anything. "It took me even longer to figure out that you'd cheated on her with Dana," he said. "It still makes no sense. We still don't know why you just ran off. I'm sure it was because of all the guilt you felt about betraying my daughter, but God damn it Legolas, you should have faced it like a man. Kerri would have forgiven you a thousand times over. She, more than anyone else, knew the pressure you were under. And there were always women parading around in front of you like cats in heat. Why the fuck did you leave?" "Making one mistake wasn't enough to bail on a lifelong love, no matter how much guilt you felt," he said sadly. "I'm just glad I found you now so we can put this whole thing back to the way it should be." For a long time no one said anything. Anna just held me against her breasts, telling me that everything was going to be fine. Then I finally recovered enough strength to sit up and to speak. "No," I said. He looked at me as if I had snapped. "No, what?" he asked. "No, we're not putting anything back together," I said. "We couldn't put this shit back together with God's personal tube of super glue. None of what you said is right anyway. In the first place I didn't cheat on Kerri. That isn't why I ran." "Legolas, you aren't a man who's known for lying," he said. "So that's probably why you suck at it. I know you slept with Dana, dumb ass. I can prove it." "Let me guess," I said. "She video-taped it for her memories and you have a copy of the tape." "No son," he said seriously. "You got her pregnant and I have your almost five year old daughter living in my house. When Dana died and we found out about her, the court gave temporary custody of her to Kerri and me. It had to be both of us because Kerri just recently snapped out of her funk. Dana asked us to find you and bring your daughter to you. We've been looking for you since she passed. We found you by going through her records but it still took us a month. Kerri is trying to adopt her. That way the three of you can be a family and everything will work out." "No the fuck she isn't," I snapped. "I will not have my daughter raised by..." I pulled out my iPhone and started to make a call. "Who are you trying to call?" he asked. "My lawyers," I said. "Son, Kerri isn't trying to take Aria from you," he said. "She's just trying to find a way...any way that she can become a part of your life again. Anyway she's on her way here now. Her plane should be landing in about an hour. Can't we all just sit down and talk about this then. I still don't understand any of this. Why won't you just accept the fact that Kerri still loves you and wants to forgive you? She's even willing to raise and love another woman's child to get you back. Why can't you just accept her forgiveness?" I had intended not to say a word about it. I hadn't ever told anyone anything about the situation. Before then the words had never escaped my lips but I was so angry at the way things had turned out that I couldn't help it. I had contingency plans for what I'd do if Kerri ever caught up to me. I already had another name change and another life set up, but I hadn't foreseen this. I had no idea that I had a daughter. Her, unlike Kerri, I couldn't walk away from. My frustration at having to face Kerri, at her father's stupidity and at all of the pain that was welling back up in me finally erupted and I couldn't help it. The words came out of me faster and angrier than I'd intended. "BECAUSE I WASN'T the one who CHEATED!" I screamed. He shrank back against the fury of my words. I grabbed a piece of paper off of my desk and scribbled down my address. "When she gets here, bring my daughter to my home so we can settle this once and for all," I said. "It's time for us to get this out of the way once and for all." Oceans "Legolas," he began. "Maybe I don't know wha..." "We'll get it all out when Kerri brings me my child," said. Then I walked away. He just stood there in the office with shock written all over his face. Kerri never could accept reality, or the truth. It was just like her to let everyone think that I'd cheated on her. I got into the car I'd driven today, my pewter 2009 Mustang anniversary edition. I hit the gas hard and started the rear wheels to spinning and left a trail of smoke across the parking lot until I suddenly stopped. The big oversized Brembo brakes halted the car's momentum in a split second. Anna grabbed the handle of the door and got into the car beside me. "I've always wanted to ride in this thing," she said cheerfully. As we drove down the streets of our small to medium sized Arizona town, the desert's beautiful colors failed to bring the normal smile to my face. I'd picked Randall city for two reasons. One, because it was close enough to Phoenix that I could get anything that any major city had to offer. But also because Randall was small enough to be off the grid to anyone who'd look for me. Anyone looking for me from my old life knew that there were simply things like internet service, good mechanics and cable TV that I'd never do without. It seemed funny to me that I'd give up the woman I thought I'd spend the rest of my life with but I wasn't ready to miss Spartacus to do it. "Were you ever going to tell me," Anna asked, as I took a corner particularly hard and threw us both against our seats. I got out of the car and started walking fast towards a strip mall. I hadn't answered her because I truly didn't know what the answer was. I took off my glasses and threw them against a wall where they shattered. Well the frame shattered those plastic lenses are designed not to shatter, but even they cracked multiple times. "We've been working together for two years," she said, getting louder. She had to run a little to keep up with me. I stepped into the barber shop and she followed me in. Luckily the place was about to close. "Whoo, you're just in time," said the man. "I was on my way to flip the sign around to read closed." "I could come back," I began. "Nah," I haven't made nearly enough money this week to turn down any paying customers," he said. "Besides, my wife is probably only halfway through burning the shit out of my dinner anyway." He smiled as he said it. He had a twinkle in his eye that told me that no matter how badly he talked about his wife, he'd give up his life for her. "I feel really bad for you," I said. He laughed again. "Hey what she lacks in cooking skills, she makes up in other rooms in the house. If ya know what I mean," he smirked. Anna forgot her growing anger long enough to blush. "So how am I cutting this?" he asked. "Just a light trim," said Anna. "We have to get you another pair of glasses." "Cut it all off," I countered. He looked at both of us. "I tend to side with the ladies," he said. "Are you two going through something?" "NO," I said, at the exact same time as Anna said, "YES!" The friendly barber sat there stunned. "Why do you want his hair long?" he asked Anna. "It's the way it's always been since I've known him," said Anna. "It's soft and wonderful." "Why do you want it cut short?" he asked me. "I'm tired of hiding. There's no need for it any more. I've always liked my hair short and functional. It's easier to take care of and it doesn't get in the way. I only like long hair on girls," I said. "Anyone who knows me and cares about me knows that." "Cut it short," said Anna sadly. "And can you shave off the beard?" I asked. He nodded and went to work. Anna seemed to worry more with each lock of hair that was cut and fell to the floor. By the time the pile of dark brown curls littered the floor around the barber's chair, she'd stood back up and was standing beside me holding my hand as the barber shaved me. "You were never going to tell me," she said. "I can see that now. Her holding my hand wasn't new. She'd started doing it when I had the flu really badly. I'd barely made it through school the first day that I came down with it. I'd had to stop several times driving home because I was so dizzy. When I got to my house, I got the door open and had collapsed on my couch. When I hadn't called in the next morning, Jim had stopped by to see me at lunch time. I'd been there for about a year and everyone had wondered where I was because I'd never missed a day of school before. He must have called Anna on his way back to work, because the next thing I knew she was at my house. She'd always been friendly with me. Well, as friendly as I allowed anyone to be. But the look on her face told me that there was more to it. She'd taken my coat off of me and made me get into my bed. She'd reached under my covers and taken off my pants and socks. Then she started force feeding me. She kept feeding me until I'd throw up because I couldn't keep anything down. She had a bucket right beside the bed for when it came back up. I was delirious that first day. By the second day, when I still felt as sick as a dog but found myself lucid enough to try to talk, I looked at her and said, "Sorry." "What do you have to be sorry about?" she asked. "I didn't call in," I said. "I'm really sorry but this hit me really fast and I could barely move yesterday." Then I noticed that she was laughing quietly. "Am I suspended?" I asked. "Well, I'd have to suspend myself too," she said. "I didn't call in either." "But I think we'll be okay," she laughed. "I thought you were apologizing for the damage to my reputation. After all I did stay over-night at the home of a man I'm not married to. What will people think?" That was when she started the whole hand holding thing. Til this day, whenever she needs something to grab onto she holds my hand. The last play of a game for the school's pee wee football team, she's holding my hand. If we're at a particularly heated PTA meeting, under the table she'll be holding onto my hand. Sometimes she digs in so tightly that I'm sure she'll draw blood. "After all of this time, don't you know you can trust me?" she said sadly. I didn't say a word. I just stared forward out the window into space. There were so many questions running through my head. I couldn't believe that all of this shit had just come down on me from out of nowhere. Now I'd probably have to start all over again. I'd miss Arizona. I'd miss my little school and my students. And I really would miss Anna. I realized then that I cared about her more than I'd let myself realize. As I formulated an exit strategy, the barber continued to shave me. My best hope was that I could get custody of my daughter if she liked me. The weird thing was that I loved her already though I'd never met her. I was curious to see what a child that I had with Dana would look like. Anyway after getting custody, I'd be in the wind. This time, no trickery though. I'd probably have to move to a different country for real, at least for a little while. Maybe my friend Duna could help me get settled somewhere in Europe. After a few years there, all of the heat would die down and Aria and I could come back. I'd still love to be somewhere in the Southwest, perhaps Texas. "Are you even listening to me?" asked Anna. I guess she had no idea that I'd zoned out a long time ago. I gave her hand a squeeze. I paid the barber as Anna stood there with her mouth open. I gave him more as a tip than he charged me for the haircut. "I told you it was worth it to stay open," he said. "And I'm a stranger. I don't know you two or your problems but the way the two of you looked sitting there holding each other's hands, I'm sure you'll be able to work out whatever you're going through." As we walked back to the car, Anna never grabbed my hand. I'd expected her to do that but she didn't. She kept looking at me and shaking her head. "What" I asked her finally. "You're beautiful," she said. "And I'm a damned fool." "Anna, I'm a guy," I smirked. "My nose has been broken twice and I have a square head. I just chopped off all of my hair. I look like an army recruit. And you're one of the most educated women I've ever met." "Larry...shit; I don't even know what to call you. Anyway your features, your face is wonderful. It looks even better out from under all of that hair. You're not the same man you were when we walked in to that barber shop. The way you look has changed, the way you talk has changed and even the way you walk is different. My Larry Martin is buried back in the floor of that barbershop under all of that hair." I saw a tear roll down her cheek. "And there's a difference between education and intelligence," she said. "I've been chasing you on the sly for two years and you've never noticed. Now I know why. For all of this time that I've been fighting off men, hoping that someday...well, I just feel stupid now." She started really crying then. "And to make it worse, I'm sure you're going to leave. I can see it in your eyes. It's like in your mind you're already gone. You just need to take care of a few loose ends and you'll be out of here." "Anna, I swear to you that I would never leave that way. Even if I do move away from here, I'd always make sure that you could contact me. Even from what you heard back there you should have noticed that I made sure Dana was taken care of." That was the end of that conversation for a while because we'd pulled up in front of my house. As soon as I got within range, the door of my barn opened up. "God damn," said Don, seeing what was inside of the barn. "How many of those cars do you have?" Even Anna was shocked. "What is this, your driving to school car?" she asked. My attention was riveted to the tiny bundle of energy that my de facto ex wife Kerri was trying to restrain. Kerri's shock at seeing me gave her the opening she needed and the little girl bolted to me. As she ran up to me, I scooped her up into my arms. Looking at her dark brown hair and the shape of her eyes told me everything I needed to know. I'd seen pictures of my sister when she was this age and this girl could be her twin. "Do you know who I am?" I asked her. "You're my daddy," she smiled. "Mommy had pitchers of you all over the house." She wriggled in my arms and tried to get down so I put her on her feet. She walked around me in a circle then came back. "Where's your sword?" she asked. "Mommy told me that you always had one, even though you weren't supposed to." I just smiled and told her that there were lots of swords all over the house. She took a look at Anna and went over to her. "You're really pretty," she said to Anna. "Are you going to be my new mommy? My old mommy went to heaven to wait for my daddy and me." "No, she's not," said Kerri from behind us. "Hey Legs," she continued. "Don't you have anything to say to me?" I just shrugged my shoulders and started walking towards the house. Looking at the two women was like studying contrasts. Anna was tall and very slender with generous breasts and long legs. She was dressed very conservatively in gray dress pants, a white blouse and a gray scarf that brought them together. Her long hair was swept back away from her face to fall over her shoulders. Her only jewelry was a simple gold necklace that, upon further inspection, I realized I had given her. Kerri, on the other hand was far shorter, yet still thin. She was almost elfin in appearance. She had small pert breasts and very short hair. Even though she was thirty two years old, my age and two years younger than Anna, her hair was spiked on top and gelled back on the sides. Her legs were about the same size as Anna's but far shorter. Her ass however was a work of art. She wore a green leather skirt with a matching purple leather top. Her purple leather pumps had at least a four inch chrome spike heel. There were very few, if any, similarities between them. Aria ran up and grabbed my hand, pulling me out of my comparison. She pulled Anna along with her. Dan looked at us suspiciously. Kerri sprang into action. "Okay, whoever you are. This is a good point for you to go home. We have serious things to talk about to put our family back together. I'm sure you understand." Anna looked confused. "He probably won't let you drive one of those Mustangs, but you can drive his Jeep home. Legs, give her the keys so we can talk this out," said Kerri. "She's staying," I said. "Legs, we have a lot to work out," said Kerri between her teeth. "There are things that we have to go through that anyone who isn't involved doesn't need to know. I'm not even sure I want my father to know some of these things. Whatever you did or whoever you did while we were apart doesn't matter now. How about we just say that we're even? But it has to stop now if we're going to fix things and raise our daughter." "Look, Kerri, I don't give a fu...I caught myself just in time. There was a moment of silence while I let my anger dissipate. "Daddy, were you going to say fudge?" asked Aria. "Are we going to make fudge or do we already have it?" "That sounds like a wonderful idea," I said. "I have to talk to Kerri and her dad for a while. You and Anna can make some fudge in the kitchen. Anna, if I don't have something that you need, the two of you might have to go to the store for it. You can drive any of the cars that you want. The keys are all on the peg board in the kitchen. The keys for each car are in front of the picture of the car they fit." "Your name is Anna?" asked Aria excitedly. "I'm smart. Your name is just like mine. It has a big "A" at the front and a little "A" at the end. Do you know where my daddy's swords are?" "Well, we'll look for them," said Anna. "But I haven't been all over his house. I've actually only seen his living room, his bedroom and his kitchen." As Aria and Anna disappeared into the house, Kerri couldn't help voicing her opinion. "Sounds like a whore to me," she snapped. "She's only seen the bedroom and the kitchen." "Kerri, I appreciate whatever you've done for Aria for however long you've done it. All you have to do is name the price for your services or expenses and I'll write you a check so you can get back on your plane." "What the hell are you talking about?" asked Kerri. "I'm going to adopt her, so she'll be my daughter legally. Then you and I will raise her together." "Yeah, your dad told me that you were willing to forgive me and adopt her but I couldn't believe it," I smirked. "Uhm we don't need to go into that," she said. "Yeah we do," I countered. "First, you're not adopting my daughter. If we have to go into court you'll lose. You've been off of the nut farm for less than a month, right. The only way you got temporary custody was by having your dad go in with you. So realistically it would be me against him. I have a blood connection to her. I also have a stable career and far more than ample funds to take care of her. In the words of Ivan Drago in Rocky 4, "You vill lose." "Legs, you have to take me back," she screamed. "I love you. I've never loved anyone except you. You leaving me was what messed me up in the first place. At least give us a chance. I can do anything for you that your blonde bimbo can and you know it. WE belong together. We always have and we always will. I know you ran away because I hurt you, but baby I never meant to. That was never the plan. I wish I could tell you that it was just the business aspects of everything but it goes deeper than that. For almost as long as I can remember, since back when we were kids, there always seemed to be something missing. Not from us, we were perfect together. There just seemed to be pieces of me that were missing. I guess I got fucked up looking for them. But I couldn't help it. It was like there was a hole in me that nothing could fill." "I know Kerri," I smirked. "I was there. I understand what you were trying to find. YOU didn't understand it until it was too late." "I don't understand any of this shit," said Dan. "I thought you told me he cheated on you, Kerri." "Dad, I never said that," said Kerri. "If that was the conclusion you drew, it's not my fault." "But you let everyone believe it," he snapped. "You never denied it once, especially after Dana got pregnant. I need to hear this whole fucking story. Who did what to whom? Start from the beginning." "I'd like to hear it too," said Anna coming into the room. She sat down on the sofa next to me. "Aria?" I asked. "She's asleep," she said. "I laid her down in your bed. Your guest room is probably too dusty. We're going to have to air it out if you stay. I think she had too much excitement." "He's not staying," said Kerri. "We're going back to New York." Suddenly she looked around the living room and her mouth dropped open. "You painted all of these?" she asked. I nodded. "He did most of the sculptures in the back room and several bigger paintings too," said Anna. "There's even one of me." "Do you realize what they'll be worth?" asked Kerri. "I thought that you couldn't...you worked without..." she sputtered. "Yep," I smirked. "And they're good too." "Can we just get to the fucking story?" asked Dan. "I feel like I came into a movie that had already started and I'm lost." "Okay," said Kerri. "You'll have to hear this from both of us so I'll start." I nodded in agreement. * * * * * * "The first thing you need to know, Dad and blond woman," said Kerri. "Is that Legs and I have always been together and we always will be." "Uhm didn't you two meet in college?" asked Dan. "Wasn't it more like two weird art students got together than star crossed love?" Kerri's eyes narrowed. "Daddy a big part of your problem is that you never really took the time to ever get to know me or anything about me. You were always too busy with your precious son doing guy stuff. How'd that turn out? Steve won't get out of jail for how long again? And when you weren't busy with Steve, it was Connie, your little princess, the perfect daughter. I was always just what you called me, the weird girl, right?" Dan started to say something but changed his mind. "Ever since before Mom died and you lost your job, I've been the one supporting you, Daddy," said Kerri. "The weird girl with the artsy husband pays all of your fucking bills. Connie your little princess has what, 5 kids and no husbands. They just hit it and quit it huh?" continued Kerri. "Can I tell you my story now or do you intend to keep butting in?" she asked. "Go ahead," said Dan. "As I was saying," began Kerri. "Legs and I met way before you ever thought we did, Daddy. I met him on my first day of school. We were 5 years old. Do you even remember me talking about my first day of school? Remember I told you that the kids were mean to me and laughed at me because I had my shoes on the wrong feet and I didn't know how to tie them?" Dan nodded. "Remember I told you about the boy who made them leave me alone? Well, that was Legs. He was always doing nice things for me. He drew pictures for me. He finger painted things for me and he never let anyone pick on me. I think on some level I knew even then that I loved him. That first year of Kindergarten was wonderful; we were together all of the time. The next year we got split up. Our classrooms were on opposite sides of the building so we rarely saw each other, but for the next few years I smiled every time I saw him. Then things got worse. We went to different middle schools. The only way I was able to even hear about him was through that evil little bitch Tammy, who lived across the street from us. She went to his school and had three classes with him. She was always telling me that he was going to be her boyfriend when she got old enough to have one. She was one of those spoiled little blond bitches, so I believed her. That was why I always beat her up, Daddy." Oceans "For that whole time I'd saved some of the drawings that Legs had made for me. They were beautiful and showed his talent even then. Some of the messages that Tammy gave me told me about how he loved art and how he drew really well and did his best work when he did things for me. Then the notes started to get more serious and he started asking me questions that I didn't understand. The happiest day of my life was when I ran into him at the mall the year before we started high school. He gave me his phone number and I gave him ours. I called him as soon as I got home. He was so shy on the phone. It took a while for him to open up, so I just went ahead and started asking him all of the things I'd wanted to know. After all we were both about 15 then and had been in love with each other for nearly ten years. You can laugh about it and call it puppy love or whatever, but I knew what I felt. When all of my other classmates and friends were talking about a different boy each week, I was still stuck on the same boy I'd met on my first day of school." She smiled at me and then looked straight into her father's eyes. "Listen up daddy," she said. "I'm about to clear up one of the great mysteries of life for you. That night on the phone, I went ahead and told Legs how I felt about him. I told him that he was the only boy for me and he always had been. He stopped talking and hung up the phone on me. I called him right back. He told me that I shouldn't tell him lies if I wanted to be his friend. I asked him what I'd lied about. He told me how he'd sent me his phone number at least three times and Tammy told him that I'd said I didn't want it. I got pissed Daddy. The he asked me, if I liked him so much why I never said anything about all of the pictures and paintings he'd done for me. He asked me how I liked the one he'd sent me just the last week. It had been the first painting he'd done using oil paint and he'd made sure to wrap it so Tammy wouldn't ruin it before she gave it to me." "Daddy, do you remember how I supposedly snapped when I was 15? Now you know why. I hung up the phone and went across the street and beat the living shit out of Tammy. I remember it as clearly as if it had happened yesterday. I knocked on the door and Tammy's mom must have confused me with one of her other friends. I'd been in their house lots of times but Tammy never let me in her fucking room. Tammy wasn't home yet, but I told her mother I'd left something in her room. She opened the door for me and I saw them. There were all kinds of pictures and drawings and sketches and even a few paintings arranged in the room. I recognized his work even then." Kerri had to sit down before she could continue. "Tammy's mom looked at me and smiled. She told me that Tammy's boyfriend was always drawing and painting things for her. I just smiled back at her and we heard the door open. Tammy came running up the stairs and I just snapped, Daddy. I jumped on her and started punching her over and over again. Tammy's mother tried to pull me off of her but I was just irate. Luckily for Tammy, her big brother got home and together they pulled me off of Tammy because I'd started slamming her head into the floor. I'm sure I'd have killed her. You know the rest, Daddy. Tammy had to go to the hospital, they called the police and I ended up in that high school for troubled kids with a Juvie record for assault. That was the first time that I disappointed you Daddy, remember it. Well now you know why." Dan's mouth opened. "I never knew any of this," he said. "Because we never talked Daddy," said Kerri. "Anyway, that little bitch never did give me any of my paintings back. After she found that Legs and I were going together she destroyed all of them. My God they'd be so fucking valuable now. Anyway my outburst hurt me more than it did Tammy. I got sent to a school for troubled kids, most of whom were just slow. Legs ended up in the school of fine arts, so we were separated again. We ended up together finally in college. We insisted on going to the same college right at home in New York. Legs went into their art program and I couldn't draw a fucking line with a ruler so I ended up majoring in art history. You had to submit a catalog of work for admittance in the art program and I had none. I figured that hanging out with Legs a lot would teach me about art. I hoped that maybe some of his talent would rub off on me or I could absorb it through osmosis. It is very important for you to understand that for all of this time neither Legs or I had done anything sexual with anyone. There was no hurry. Even when we turned 18, we didn't just jump up and start fucking. There was no need for it. We both loved each other very deeply and I think that even then we knew that we'd always be together. We were more interested in securing our future so we wouldn't be apart again." "We'd already figured out that we'd be artists. We also knew that it was a rough life. Legs was amazing even then. His professors were awed by him. He excelled in everything he touched. He wasn't just the best painter in the program, or the best at sculpture, though he was the best at both, which is rare. He was simply the best artist there, period. They were trying to arrange shows for him in local galleries even before he graduated. We thought it was funny. He wasn't even out of school and they were already trying to make money off of him." "Our first time having sex just happened. It was two days before my twentieth birthday. Legs was painting something and he kept doing it over and over again. He was trying to capture something in the painting that I couldn't understand. I think that was when I realized that he had a gear that most people simply didn't possess. I realized then that someday I might become an artist but I was NEVER going to be in his league and I wanted to so badly. We were both frustrated but by different things. As usual we sought to comfort each other and we ended up hugging like we always did, then the hugs became kisses. The kisses got more intense and the next thing I realized my panties were very wet. I thought I'd peed on myself. Legs had given me my first non-self generated orgasm just by kissing me and rubbing my pussy through my clothes." "It felt so good that I didn't know what to do. My body was tingling all over. I started taking my clothes off and Legs did the same. His body was beautiful and I wanted nothing more than to lie there with him next to me. We started kissing again and he rubbed my breasts or at least what I had. My nipples were so hard I could cut diamonds with them. I started rubbing my pussy against him and he rubbed back against me." "We both knew what was going to happen next. I'd known what to expect from hearing about my friends' first times but there was no way I could have stopped." "Are you sure we're ready for this?" he asked. I couldn't even talk so I just nodded my head. Legs started rubbing the tip of his dick just inside my pussy. By then I was so wet that he could probably have just slammed it home and got it over with, but he wasn't that kind of man. He very slowly eased it into me, stopping every so often to make sure he wasn't hurting me." "Finally, I just grabbed him by his ass cheeks and pulled him into me. I felt so full and he felt so hot that my head spun for a while. I don't know what came over me after that. I started to hump myself on him like some kind of slut. I just couldn't get enough of him." "It felt like there was a bubble expanding inside of me and all of a sudden it just popped. When it did, I lost consciousness for a few seconds. When I regained my senses, Legs was there stroking my hair and looking down on me." "Looking into his eyes, I knew what love was. We'd been together for nearly all of our lives, but all of a sudden things just became more intense. It was like a new dimension had been added to our relationship." "Over the next few days, I became even more obsessed with Legs if that was possible. I skipped a few of my classes and did a few other really silly things until he sat me down and had a talk with me." "He told me that we needed to keep our eyes on the prize. It was the endgame that was the most important thing. We needed to graduate so we could set the art world on fire. Reluctantly, I returned to my classes but every moment I wasn't in class I was with him. We had sex constantly and it affected him as well as it did me." "He said it made his painting even more intense. All I know was that it became even more important to me that we stay together. There were, of course, a few incidents with some of his female classmates. None of them were as bad as the Tammy situation, but one or two were close." "The results of those actions manifested in two things. The first was that Legs' female classmates left him alone. And secondly, the day before his art class final, when I least expected it, my life changed." "I was about to graduate as well, but I was more worried about Legs' finals. The way I looked at it. I still had far more school to go through. I had applied for the same art school that Legs had just completed. I wasn't sure that my paintings were very good, but I'd submitted a couple." "I guess the problem was that I compared my work to the paintings that Legs did, so I didn't think they were very good. My fears were confirmed though because my application was rejected. For about twenty minutes, I was the most depressed woman on earth. I dragged my sad ass back to the apartment I shared with Legs." "I intended to drink myself to death or as close as I could come. I was ruining all of the plans we made with my lack of talent. It would be hard for us to conquer the art world together when only one of us was an artist. Realizing this was what first alerted me to the missing pieces of me. What I thought was missing was the piece of my soul that gave me that special perspective that artists all have. If I could only bring those pieces back, I'd be a great artist. I'd be whole again. As soon as I stepped into the apartment my plans changed." "The first thing I noticed was that Legs had sprinkled rose petals all over the floor until they formed a little path around our living room. He'd arranged three or four of his canvasses around our apartment. It smelled so wonderful that I just dropped my liquor bottle on the floor. Forget about drinking myself out of my depression. I decided then and there that I'd fuck myself out of it." "I followed the path that Legs had laid out for me. I went to his first canvas. It was a painting of me that I'd never seen. I was lying on some pillows in the painting. The image was so lifelike that I could swear I saw myself breathing in the painting. And the expression that he'd captured. I looked so satisfied and so happy. I had never seen that expression on my face before. I had to ask him about it." "For some reason, that painting always makes me horny. I found out why later." "I followed the trail to the next canvas. It was even more incredible. It was a city-scape. It was huge and very detailed. I'd seen the outline of this painting before but I'd never seen the completed work. Besides the buildings that were beautifully rendered, you could see people walking the streets engaged in all manner of activities. It was one of those things that you could look at forever and never see the same thing twice. I think I must have stood there in front of it for a long time." "After looking at the painting for a long time, I went to the last canvas. It was blank except for a card in front of it that read, "The future." I looked at it carefully because I didn't understand what it meant. Then I noticed a string hanging from the top of the easel that supported the canvass." "I pulled the string gently and it came up. I pulled more and found a beautiful ring attached to it. Legs came out from the next room and smiled at me." "Is this for me?" I asked. He just nodded and smiled at me. "Legs, you don't have to give me a ring just to get me to go to bed with you, dummy," I smirked, beginning to open my blouse. "We're going to be together forever, moron." "And that's why I want you to marry me," he said. When he said that, the top of my head exploded. I'd missed everything. But you have to understand that Legs was always surprising me and doing little romantic things for me. We didn't have much money, but he gave me all of his love and any time that he didn't spend working on his art." "I started screaming and I couldn't shut up. Every thought of my rejection was forgotten. I grabbed him and took him right there on the floor. Later on he explained a few things to me." "Legs explained why the canvas labeled the future was blank. He said it was because our future would be drawn by both us together. He didn't know what it would look like but he was sure it would be great. And it was." "The other thing that he explained to me was the picture of me. He said it was the way I always looked, right after we'd made love. He loved looking at me then and when I slept afterwards. And he'd tried very hard to capture that look. No matter how many offers we got for that painting, we never sold it. It was always my favorite painting." "Anyway, we got married and our wonderful life began. Legs almost immediately got a few pieces sold in a couple of local art shows. With the money he made with those pieces we were on our way. " "I'm not going to say that we never had any problems, but they were very, very few and very minor. Legs worshipped me and I him. I remember I got a tattoo once. I got his name tattooed with a little heart on my left shoulder. As soon as I walked into the house he went crazy. He asked me what was wrong with my shoulder. I proudly showed him the tat and he looked as if he was going to cry. He told me that my body was far too perfect for me to mar or deface. He loved me just the way I was. I didn't need any marks on my body to call attention to me or make me beautiful because I already was. He told me that he thought tattoos just made women look like they belonged in the circus or that they were desperately crying out for attention. It took a lot of expensive laser treatment to get rid of that tattoo. That was one of our biggest problems until then." "Legs immediately got the attraction of one of the biggest agents in New York. Word had already begun to spread about Legs. We deviated from the typical artist's path by taking commissions from a few wealthy collectors and even a few corporate clients." "For a few years, Legs worked his way up the ladder of artistic success. He began to become known both for his sculptures and for his paintings. We always held back his best work for his annual show. " "To avoid becoming overexposed, Legs only did one showing a year. His agent also began to market Legs as a personality. Legs' habit of dressing entirely in black and his Mustangs made him stand out from the typical artist. He also had a habit of carrying a sword around with him wherever he went. His eccentricity made him even more sought after." "As he became more famous, he began to hang out with other famous people both in and out of the art world. It wasn't unusual for me to come home and find almost anyone in my living room. I still remember walking into my house one afternoon and seeing a tiny woman looking through Legs' latest works. She dressed like something out of a comic book. She had Legs' gift of matching colors that didn't seem to go together and making them look wonderful." "As I watched, she went from painting to painting and back nodding her head at some and shaking her head at others. I still had that problem with jealousy. " "Hello Kerri," she said when she saw me. "Her heavy French accent made me pause before I started in on her. Then I heard the sound of one of Legs' Mustangs, but it was louder than normal. I looked out through the doorway and saw Legs racing his car up our roadway followed very closely by another Mustang that I'd never seen before." "Boys and their toys," said the woman. She was incredibly beautiful and even smaller than I am. I suddenly realized whose ass I was about to kick. The woman was one of the most famous artists in the world, Amanda Anderson." "Amanda was from France but now lived in Florida with her husband and partner Raphe Jenkins. For most of my adult life I had idolized this woman and even now I copy her style, but there she was standing in my living room." "She'd come to talk not only to Legs, but to me. It was Amanda who'd come up with the idea that I, not our current manager, Darren, should represent our business interests. She'd had dealings with Darren and his agency and no longer trusted him." "I began to take a bigger interest in what was going on and eventually I did take over as Legs' manager. It was one of the best things I ever did, but also probably the biggest mistake I ever made. It was extremely fulfilling. Instead of simply staying on the sidelines as his wife, I became an important part of the team. It made me feel as if I was making a contribution instead of just being a spectator." "At first I handled everything for Legs myself. I arranged his meetings and interviews and chose which places we'd go and which ones we wouldn't. I also helped him choose which corporate commissions we'd take and which we wouldn't. By that time, we'd been married for a while and were still crazily in love." "The biggest problem was that I still didn't see us as equals the way I wanted us to be. Legs' star continued to rise and I was once again relegated to the background. I'd given up painting totally by then because I simply wasn't good enough." "I began to obsess over the piece of my soul or maybe a few pieces that were missing. If I could only find those missing pieces then my artistic talent would come to the fore. Perhaps not as wildly as my husband's but there'd be something that I could do in a way that no one else could. I saw many different types of artists as we traveled and worked and I constantly sought something that might be my niche." "I also constantly hung out with different types of artists to expose myself to different forms of art that might someday become my specialty." "I suppose it was inevitable that other artists who wanted to ride the coat tails of my husband's success would begin to think that I was in some way responsible for it. Some of them began to think that if I could represent them, then maybe I could bring them a portion of his success." "Legs was all for it, he always supported anything that I took a fancy to. Within six months, our lives had completely changed. By that time I was representing five or six other artists beside Legs. I started to get a big head about it and started to neglect Legs. I was so busy doing things for other people that we never spent any time with each other anymore." "I guess that was when "she" came into the picture. At first I took no notice of her. After all she was plain and she was kind of fat. Who could be threatened by someone like that? It took a while but she just took over Legs' life." "Everything involving the business aspects of his career and even his personal life she handled. There were several times when I had to remind her that I was his wife and she was only his assistant. I tried to fire her once or twice, but she told me that I couldn't fire her because I didn't hire her or sign her checks." "She even told me once that she thought I was stupid for what I was doing. I explained to her that I represented the largest stable of artists in the United States so I knew very fucking well what I was doing." "She shook her head and just laughed at me. She asked me how many of those artists were actually making any money. I just stared at her." Oceans "She wondered how long it would take Legolas to realize that he was subsidizing my stable of barely average artists. I was literally taking money from him to support a crew of artists who didn't have a fraction of his talent. If I was such a smart business woman why was I neglecting my biggest asset to spend most of my time on lesser clients?" "She said that doing that proved that I wasn't much of a business woman but that wasn't really what she'd been talking about. She told me that besides being stupid as a business woman, I was stupid as a woman period for doing what I was doing to a man who loved me as much as Legs did." "She told me that if I continued in my stupidity, I shouldn't be surprised if someone who'd treat him the way he deserved took him away from me." "I realized then that she was in love with my husband. I went crazy. I swung at her as hard as I could. She grabbed my arm and threw me on the floor. She just stood there looking at me and then walked away." "I guess I should have stopped then but I didn't. I was drunk with power and I couldn't give it up. This was my niche. This was my way to impact the art world. Dana and I simply co-existed for a long time." "I guess the rumors about me started making the rounds then. It was a really insanely busy time for both of us. It was about the time that Legs had gotten the commission for the Commerce Bank sculpture. I was doing several interviews a day. Legs had never said a word to me before that about my absences or the lessening of the time we spent together and he didn't say anything then either. He was always wrapped up in his own little world. He was so into his art that I was sure he didn't know what was going on around him." "I knew that I had to stop. It hit me all of a sudden one day when I went into his studio, or tried to and found out that I couldn't find him. He'd changed his workspace to a separate studio and I knew nothing about it." "I made it a point to be home that evening when he came home. And I could tell by the way he looked at me that something was different. Until that night every time the man looked at me his face lit up. This was a man whose vision set the world on fire and all he'd ever wanted to do was spend time with me." "We had dinner together and my guilt was palpable. I didn't know what to say or what to do. He left after dinner to go back to work on the piece. Before he left I told him that I wanted to go with him. He told me that he wasn't ready for anyone to see it yet." "I was crushed. He'd always loved having me look at his pieces and give my opinions. He also looked really sad." "The next day Amanda came to see me at my office and we fought. She was very angry at me. I guess she thought that she was partially responsible for what was going on since she was the one who'd pushed me into artist management." "It was the last time she ever spoke to me. Even later on, when I needed friends, she and Raphe were among the first to cut me out of their lives." "I was always sure that I could fix things. I guess I was like a smoker. I was sure that I could quit whenever I wanted to. I decided that after the Commerce Bank job was over Legs and I would just take a long vacation together and fix things. That would give him the time to complete his statue and I could sign my next new prospect." "That new prospect was Denny Wainwright. I was sure that he was going to be the next big thing. He was actually kind of a poor man's copy of Legs. He didn't sculpt. He only painted, but I was sure that I could market him. " "One thing that made me sure of it was that, he, like Legs, was more of a personality than just an artist. Being interesting actually made people want more of him. I later found out that he was more interesting as a personality than an artist." "I saw him at a small showing in New York and approached him. It was the beginning of the end for me. For weeks by then, Legs had simply withdrawn into his shell. He barely spoke to me and when he did it was always cryptic phrases. I realized later that he'd been trying to warn me. Just like with the tattoo, he didn't know exactly what I was doing, but he knew that I was doing something to hurt us." "Instead of handling Denny the way I normally did things and wait for him to approach me, I decided to push ahead and just go after him. I couldn't imagine him not wanting the services I offered. I did everything for my people to free them up to just create. In a lot of those cases, I was doing things I shouldn't have done." "Imagine my surprise when he laughed in my face at my offer to represent him. And he did it in public at the art show. The fact that he'd done it in front of people who were involved in the tightly knit world of fine arts made it even worse than the words he used." "Thanks, but I like to keep my art pure," he said loudly, drawing attention from the people around us. "I have no need of a whore, no matter what else she might do for me." "Everyone in the room knew who he was and who I was. As I said, it was the beginning of the end." "I just walked away from him with a stunned look on my face. As I looked around the room, I saw nothing but smirks on the faces of most of the people there. A funny thing about the art world, everyone involved watches everyone else. In some cases they want to see you succeed, in others they just want to be there to see you fall. I could tell by the looks on most of those faces that I was headed for a sharp, steep drop." "I needed Legs then like I'd never needed him before. I drove home and ran into our house only to find it empty. I called his cell phone and it went to voice mail. I called again immediately hoping he'd missed the first call. It was answered the third time I called him, but not by him." "Why the hell are you answering his phone?" I asked. "Why the hell are you trying to call him in the middle of a taping that you should already be at?" she hissed right back. "Dana, what are you talking about? I need to speak to my husband right now," I told her. "Kerri, you really have lost it haven't you?" she asked. "You're supposed to be the one who represents him and handles his business interests, so why the fuck are you calling him in the middle of his first appearance on Letterman?" She hung up the phone on me and I slumped to the floor. How had I forgotten that?" "Legs was on a three day promotional tour doing signings of prints of some of his earlier paintings. He was also scheduled to do the Letterman show and a couple of other talk shows to pique interest in him just before we unveiled the Commerce Bank sculpture next month. How the fuck could I forget the biggest most important block of appearances in my husband's career thus far?" "Legs had tried in vain to get me to reschedule them because he hadn't wanted to take the time away from the sculpture. This was the one thing that Dana and I had agreed on. Most of the shows that he was scheduled to appear on had never had an artist on as a guest, not even Amanda had done this. It was very important for Legs' career and I'd forgotten." "Even worse was the fact that when we'd scheduled the appearance nearly a month ago, he'd begged me to go with him. He was very nervous and almost afraid to go. He thought that he just wouldn't appeal to a mass audience. Art isn't really a form of entertainment. It's a more personal pursuit. I realized then that I'd let him down yet again. I got the bottle out and started crying." "For the next few days, I stayed home trying to avoid people. Legs wasn't returning my calls or answering his phone either. Even Dana wasn't picking up her phone or his either. I tried to call Amanda, hoping that maybe she could intercede for me. Her assistant's assistant took a message and said only that she'd make sure that Amanda's assistant got my request." "I knew what that meant. Amanda had never refused to take one of my calls. Obviously she was distancing herself from me. I knew that there was no need to even bother trying to call Raphe. Whatever his wife did or felt, he echoed. The two of them were as close as Legs and I used to be." "Used to be? Even saying the words hurt me. There had to be something wrong with him. He had to know that there was no one on earth that I loved even a fraction as much as I loved him. Lots of career minded couples drifted apart when they got busy working. This was our dream. We'd always planned to take the art world by storm. Maybe we weren't doing it the way we thought we would, but we were still doing it." "I told myself that from then on, I'd put Legs first. After all, he was my most important client. It was only right that he should get most of my attention. I went into our home office to check his schedule for the next couple of days. Our home office was pretty big. We both had huge desks that faced each other. I'd wanted them to both face outward, side by side. Legs had moved his immediately." "I guess that I'd gotten that wrong too. I tried to explain to him that having the desks side by side symbolized the fact that we were a team and we put forth a united front. I guess I looked at it as being an "us against the world," statement." "Legs just laughed and said that inside our own house we had no need to fight anyone. Then he brushed my hair and kissed me. He told me that he liked having our desks that way not to make any kind of statement, but because he enjoyed looking at me." "I looked at his desk and couldn't find a copy of his schedule anywhere. The only thing I could do was wait for him to call me or to come home. In the meantime, I was getting lots of calls from my clients about things they needed." "I started to return their calls and found out some things that I'd missed. As has been mentioned before, Legs was the only one of my clients who was really successful. One of the things I'd been doing lately was to place the best works of some of my other clients at Legs' appearances and shows. It made sense that people who came to see him or his work might be interested in seeing pieces by other artists as well. That morning, not one, but four of the five artists I'd planned on using pieces by to supplement Legs' sculpture at the Commerce Bank opening called me." "They were all very upset. They'd been told that none of their works would be shown. It was news to me. I was sure that all of the details for the opening had been confirmed. I figured that perhaps there'd been a snafu at the bank. I called the person at the bank that I usually dealt with and was told that there had been several changes made recently. He would get back to me with the name and number of the person I needed to contact to straighten things out." "I was pissed. I'd thought until that moment that I was the person in charge of what happened at the opening. I had, after all, been the person who got Legs to even take the commission. Legs had, of course, come up with the idea and designed the piece, but I'd handled all of the details." "As soon as I got off of the phone, my phone rang again. I was sure that maybe the guy from the bank had made a mistake and was calling back to clear things up. It was my secretary, Joan. Her call made me feel even worse. She started by telling me that news of Denny Wainwright's snub of me the previous evening was all over town. She had even worse news for me. Denny was showing some of his pieces in the free art fair in Central park the next afternoon. Because people were talking about him, he'd been invited to appear on a local radio station called "Art Beat," this morning. The show had been a disaster. The original intention of the show was to publicize the art fair. Denny had used it to try to publicize himself. Joan e-mailed me a copy of the show. She told me to be prepared to be upset." "Unlike Legs, who tended to be shy and let his art speak for him, Denny was loud and brash. He thought that by drawing attention to himself he'd bring more attention to his art." "The host of the show kept talking about the art fair and Denny kept trying to bring the conversation around to himself and his art. He practically called himself the greatest artist of our generation. He bragged about his innovation and modernization of the arts. He talked about how he did many of his designs on a computer and then painted them." "The host found it all boring, but to try to make the conversation interesting, he changed tactics. He asked if Denny was the greatest artist of the generation, how he compared himself to Amanda Anderson. Denny said he was better. The host laughed. Then he mentioned how many thought that Denny was a junior copy of Legolas Ambrose. Unfortunately, it was just what Denny had been waiting for. He knew that his work was not even on the same level as Legs' or Amanda's so he needed to sow controversy. By making outrageous statements, he could drum up interest in himself where his work alone never would." "Actually," said Denny. "Legolas and I have a lot in common." "Like what?" asked the host. "Well," said Denny. "I'm pretty sure that he and I are the only two artists in town who aren't screwing his wife." I don't think I heard anything else after that. I turned off my computer and started crying again. I had to get to Legs so we could work this out. I had to try to explain what was going on before I lost my marriage." "My phone continued to ring, after a while I just turned it off. I tried screening my calls at first. I realized what a mistake it had been to give some of my clients my home number. I did regularly check the screen to see who was calling me in case it was Legs or Dana but I wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone else." "The next morning was a continuation of the day before. I was actually supposed to go to the art fair in central park. A couple of my clients were showing some of their work. I was supposed to arrange to help them transport and display their work but I just couldn't leave the house. I knew that if I showed up at the art fair it would turn into a circus. It did anyway, even without me being there. I heard about it from one of my clients." "It must have been about six in the evening when she called. Her name was Chloe Parker. Chloe did paintings in a style that was very odd. Her paintings were very colorful and she had her own way of imagining people and scenes. Though her style was very different, she reminded me of Amanda. But only because she saw things differently from the way that normal people did. All of the people that she drew or painted were distorted or even twisted. All of her people had huge bodies and tiny heads. Some of her paintings resembled scenes from comic books." "I answered Chloe's call because she hadn't called me in a week or so and I needed to tell her that I was trying to figure out what happened at the bank. She surprised me because she told me that not only was she still showing her pieces at the bank, she'd had to pull them all from the art fair because they'd asked her for more pieces for the bank gallery's opening. She also needed some supplies because since the opening had been delayed she wanted to do a few more pieces." "I told her that I didn't understand what she was talking about. So she filled me in on what had happened that morning. She was sitting in her booth with about four of her latest paintings on display. She'd had a few people come over to look but she hadn't sold anything yet." "She'd seen Denny's display. He had about eight pieces in his booth even though they'd been told to only bring three or four pieces. One of his pieces was a huge cityscape that she said looked as if he'd tried to copy the one that Legs had done years ago. She said it looked amateurish but he was extremely proud of it. She'd tried to talk to him but he had a stick up his ass and blew her off to talk to people he thought might buy one of his pieces." "Later when she was back in her booth, she heard the sound of tires screeching and people yelling. She saw a lot of people running towards Denny's booth, but she couldn't leave then because she had no one to watch her paintings. She figured that Denny as usual was doing something outrageous to call attention to himself." "I didn't find out until later what had happened at Denny's booth. Chloe told me that after some, but not all, of the hubbub at Denny's booth had died down. Legs had come over to her booth. He'd looked pissed at first but as he looked at her pieces, he'd smiled and nodded his head. She told me that there was a woman following him who turned out to be his assistant. He thrown his sword to the woman and sat down with Chloe to talk about her work. He'd told her that she should save those pieces for the Bank Opening because he was sure that she'd get far more for them there. He'd asked her how many pieces she was showing and she'd told him two, because that was all I'd told her were allowed." "She said he told her that I probably wasn't aware of the changes in the way the opening was going to go and that she could bring at least eight pieces. He also thought that the show would be a great launching point for her career. He'd changed the date of the show that morning. It would be delayed by two weeks because of what had happened with Denny, but he wouldn't go into it any more than that. He needed to make a few changes in his piece. He also told her that he wanted to talk to her about her career after the show." "I was pissed for a number of reasons. I understood that Legs could change things if he wasn't happy but he should have come to me first. After all, he was supposedly a part of my agency. It made me look stupid when some of my clients had to tell me what my husband was doing. It made me look even worse when I had to ask another woman where my husband's new studio was located." "The thing that made me the angriest was the fact that it seemed like Legolas was trying to rub my nose in what I'd been doing, by doing it himself. All of that shit he'd given her about wanting to talk to her about her career sounded like the way I spoke to some of my clients to get them to sign with me." "I was sure that he was going to get her alone after the show and tell her that if she liked the way that show felt, she could have more of it. All she had to do was to be very nice to him. I got more and more pissed. I was sure at that point that he'd been fucking Dana and was now tired of her and wanted someone new. How dare he even pretend to be upset at me, if he was doing it too?" "Over the next few weeks, things got worse. My brother ran into Legs and they'd spoken. My brother asked me what the hell was going on. He told me that Legs looked like he was on life support. I didn't actually find out what had gone on at the art fair until my brother told me about it." "My brother had gone to the art fair to confront Denny, both about calling me a whore and about what he'd said on the radio show. He'd been waiting for the right moment, when he, like everyone else, heard one of the loudest engine sounds he'd ever heard. Legs' Red Shelby drove into the parking lot, way too fast. Legs had done a couple of donuts and got out of the car. As soon as people recognized him they started following him. Apparently Dana was there as well." "My brother is a typical man. He described her as cute and voluptuous, which means that she had big eyes, big tits and a big ass. I still think she's plain and fat." "He said that she got out of the car and followed right behind Legs. People started asking him questions as they walked. When they got to Denny's booth Legs handed his sword to Dana and took off his jacket. My brother asked me why he never got arrested for carrying those swords. I had to tell him that celebrities can get away with things that would surprise him." "Legolas went over to the cityscape that Denny had painted. It was the biggest piece he had there. "Do you like it?" Denny asked Legs." Oceans "Legs smiled at him and told him it would do. Then Legs asked him how much he wanted for it. The crowd started looking at Denny's other pieces. Denny thought he was going to start selling his pieces." "Two thousand dollars," he told Legs. "Legs reached into his wallet and started counting out cash." "Denny was almost giddy. "I own this now, right?" asked Legs. Denny nodded." "Yep, you bought yourself an original Denny Wainwright painting," he said. "Where are you going to put it? It would probably look good in..." That was all he had a chance to say before Legs lifted the large painting and slammed it on top of Denny's head. Denny hit the ground like a sack of potatoes. Legs then spit on him and told him that the next time he said anything about his wife he wouldn't be so nice. He started telling everyone there that Denny had no talent and his paintings were all worthless. Everyone who'd been looking at a painting stepped away from it." "Denny called out to Legs as he walked away and said that as an artist Legs was too old fashioned and that he was the newer, more modern artist. He had fused technology and art and Legs was only jealous." "I guess I'd been so pissed about Chloe that I never tried to find out anything else. Chloe was the first client I'd ever lost. I found out that I no longer represented her the day of the Commerce show. For three solid weeks, beginning when he went on his promotional tour, I hadn't seen or heard from my husband. I thought he'd been simply concentrating on all of the last minute changes to the statue. I knew that he was angry at me and I'd practiced several different ways for us to get over our problems. The thought that my marriage was over had never occurred to me." "I'd been working very hard over those weeks because I'd decided to try to sell my agency. It had come between Legs and I and I couldn't allow that to continue. If I went back to handling all of his interests myself there'd be no need for him to have Dana anymore. I was also sure that nothing had happened with Chloe yet." "Over those few weeks I hadn't noticed it but there had been changes around our house. Maybe he done it before he went on the tour but I hadn't noticed it. Maybe I'd been so preoccupied with myself that I hadn't noticed what was right in front of me." "The morning of the show, I woke up because I heard noises outside. I looked out my window and saw two flatbed tow trucks, the longer kind that can carry a couple of cars. Legs had five Mustangs at that time. It looked like he was moving all of his cars out of our garage. That was not a good sign. My heart was beating so loudly that I thought I'd die. I ran out of the house and saw one truck pulling away. I was dressed only in a robe that I thrown on with nothing underneath it." "I barely caught up to the driver of the second truck as he tied down Legs car. I asked him where he was taking the cars. He showed me a work order with Legs' signature on it. He had a photocopy of the titles to all of the cars and the owner's written permission to move them. There was nothing I could do about it. He also wouldn't tell me where the cars were going. He was very polite and very professional. I grabbed him by his arm and let my robe open a bit." "He immediately noticed. I begged him to tell me where he was taking the cars. I told him that my husband and I might be heading for a divorce if I didn't get a chance to talk to him. He looked down at my breasts. I let the robe open a bit more. "They're being moved to that big transport and storage facility downtown," he said. I asked him what the name of it was. There were several places downtown that stored cars. He just smirked and looked down again. I opened the robe all the way up." "He gasped when he looked at me. He could see everything from my face to my feet. He spent a lot of time looking hungrily at my pussy before he answered. "Dawson International," he said." "I asked him if there was any way that he could not take the cars. From the look in his eyes I was sure that there was. I shook my head and started walking back toward my house. There was no way I'd ever do that. Okay, I'd already done it, but this was different. I'm sure that it was similar to sins I'd already committed but I was never going to do that again." "When I got into the house, I called Dawson International and was told that they couldn't give me any information on any of their clients or their clients' vehicles without permission from the client." "I started looking around the house. Most, but not all, of Legs' swords were gone. There were none of his paintings left except for the one that hung over our bed, the painting of me that he'd done before we got married. It was still our favorite piece. The fact that it was still there meant that there was still some hope." "I felt like I was going to die. I needed to talk to him so badly." Kerri stopped and looked up at us then. I guess she wanted to measure our reactions to what she'd said. Anna was rapt. All of this was new to her and Kerri had been very vague when describing what she'd done. Kerri's dad sat there with his mouth open. For years he'd thought that I'd been the bad guy. He thought that I had run out on her for no reason, or because I'd simply gotten tired of her. "Bullshit," I said. "You seem to be giving them the Kerri version of what happened." "It's the truth," said Kerri. "It's the truth skewed in a way to make what you did seem like it wasn't that bad or that it makes sense," I said. "You also left a lot of things out," I continued. "Like what?" she asked. "You pretty much told the truth until you got to the part about your cheating," I said. "But you left out a lot of things. Maybe you never knew about them or simply didn't understand. So why don't you take a break and let me talk for a while." "First," I began. "You make it seem like art has always been the big focus of my life. And you make it sound like we had this grand plan to take the art world by storm. None of that is in any way true. In fact, I didn't want to be an artist. And art was never as important to me as you make it sound." Everyone in the room was shocked. Even Kerri's mouth dropped open. "Kerri, the only part you got right was that from the first day I ever laid eyes on you, you were the most important thing in the world to me. When we were kids in school, I was never the biggest kid in the class or the smartest. I wasn't the fastest or the toughest or the best looking, I was a nothing. I had nothing to offer you at all. I was totally unremarkable. I reminded me of the lyrics to that old song that says, "Don't ask about the shape I'm in. I can't sing, I ain't pretty and my legs are thin." "In short, I was a loser. I would have done anything I could to have you notice me. When we went to art class, I put everything I had into making something nice. Not for a grade or because I liked art, but for you Kerri. I know it sounds odd because at that age I didn't even like girls yet, but I knew that I liked you. I liked you so much that I just wanted to bust every time I saw you. When I gave you that stupid picture and you liked it, that was what made me start on the art thing. It was all to get your attention. Men have been doing stupid things since time began in hopes of pleasing some woman." "Truthfully, I'd have given art up in a second if you hadn't liked it so much. In the early days, I could only draw or paint if I focused on you. During the time that we were away from each other, everything I did was because I knew that someday we'd meet again. I started doing martial arts because I'm not big and I needed to be able to protect you. Somewhere along the way, I got into Samurai culture. I stopped unarmed martial arts and concentrated on swords and fencing." "There was a saying in Japanese. "Katana wa bushi no tamashii," The sword is the soul of the samurai. It didn't apply to me because Kerri you were my soul. But until I found you again, a sword would be a good substitute." "The closest equivalent to the Samurai in our culture, were, of course, the cowboys. I guess that cowboy mentality somehow morphed into the Mustang thing. Even during middle school when I discovered that one of my classmates lived across the street from you, I ate a lot of shit to become her friend so she could send you messages. Everything I've ever done was just to get closer to you." "I started thinking about our future a long time ago. Once again, the only thing I was good at, like it or not, was the art thing. I never wanted to be a doctor or a lawyer or any of that bullshit. I guess if I had my way, I'd have been a cowboy or a Samurai. But in this day and age all that would have gotten me was committed, so I took the cards I'd been dealt and did the best I could." "After a while, you were so into the art thing that I couldn't stop. It also looked like we'd be able to make a living at it. I really didn't care if we were going to be rich as long as we were together. I figured that I'd keep it up until we made enough money to be happy and then I'd quit. But after a while you started driving the bus and all I could do was to hang on." "I didn't mind doing it. In fact, I guess maybe I did like having people want to see my work. And being one of the best at something is a real turn on. But the focus was always you. " "I don't know when I started to feel that something was wrong. I guess it was when I'd find myself at home all the time painting or doing something to get the next piece ready for the next show and you were just never there anymore. You were representing all of those other guys and always spending time with them instead of me. I know it sounds like I was a jealous child and I'll admit it, I was." "Please remember that both of us were broken toys, you with your missing pieces and me seemingly unable to do anything without your support. I guess in a way we both had some growing up to do. We both needed to face reality." "To me it just seemed like I was no longer important to you and neither was our marriage. If you never had time for me or us, there was really no need for me to come home. So I started to spend more time at the new studio. I stopped telling you what was going on because you didn't seem to be interested anyway." "I pretty much became a recluse. I guess I was in kind of a depression. I walked around like one of those Goth kids. I dressed all in black every day. I carried only my black sword and drove my black Shelby GT 500." "I started to rely more on Dana for everything. She was always there for me. But there's something you also need to realize. Dana, despite what you want to believe is really pretty. She's got that really hot girl next door type of good looks. It's different from your type of beauty, Kerri. But a lot of people would find her more attractive than you are." "There are so many types of beauty and so many beautiful women. Dana has that girl next door type. Kerri, you always had that elfin punk girl look, like Amanda. Anna is a classic beauty. But none of it matters. In the end, you fall in love with a person not their looks." "The thing you've always missed though, Kerri, is that Dana and I were never more than just friends. I was never in love with her. We weren't having sex. The only person in my heart was always you. Your ridiculous jealousy against Dana was for nothing." "We pumped up the security around the new studio because of the value of the statue. You weren't included on the list because you hadn't watched me work even when I was still working from home in the previous months." "There were also other reasons for the move. The statue was huge and there were certain types of equipment, like cranes and scaffolds that just wouldn't fit in the house." "To tell you the truth, in some ways I liked it. I'd go to the studio and be alone with my thoughts. Dana hated it. She called the new studio my den of depression. I did have friends drop by a few times and Amanda and Raphe came by often. I think one of their visits really forced me to see what was going on and that it wasn't just my jealousy. They tried to convince me that our relationship was no longer good for me. For my own sanity, I needed to either change things or just get out and start fresh." "What I told Amanda when she asked me why I put up with you was like the lyrics to my favorite song, "Oceans," by Evanescence." * * * * * * Don't want to be the one to walk away But I can't bear the thought of one more day I think I finally understand what it means to be lost Can't find the road to lead us out of this A million miles from where we burned the bridge Can't keep pretending everything's going to be alright With the whole world falling down on me * * * * * * "I played that song over and over again while I worked on the statue. It seemed to convey exactly what I was feeling. Sometimes it made me daydream while I worked. I'd imagine all kinds of things. They always revolved around you though." "I remember dreaming that I was aboard a pirate ship. We were sailing very quickly with the wind at our backs. We were chasing another ship across a churning ocean. It all seemed so real, like I was actually there." "I could feel the wind ripping across my face. I could feel the weight of the cutlass in my hand. I barked out orders to put on more sails even with the risk of running too much sail in the storm. Nothing mattered to me, not my ship or my crew. Even my life didn't seem to matter as much to me as catching that fucking ship." "Hour after hour, we drew closer to that ship. When we got within canon range, my first mate ordered the guns loaded. "Belay that order," I screamed. Then I pushed him to the deck. "Any man who fires on that ship will have to deal with me," I screamed." "Using my spy glass, I could see someone tied to their mast. Of course, it was you Kerri. Just before midnight we were almost on the ship. They unloaded on us with their cannons. They didn't have the same reason not to fire that I had. I lost a third of my crew in their first volley. The second did so much damage to my ship that it was a wonder she stayed afloat." "They were about to launch their third volley that would probably have sent my ship to the ocean floor when we threw our boarding lines. We pulled our ship over to theirs until we were side by side. The two ships were now locked in a death struggle in the middle of the ocean." "I was one of the first over the side. The cutlass sang in my hand dealing death with every swing. A big crewman wearing a uniform of some sort stepped between me and the mast you were tied to. His swing at my throat caused me to take my eyes off of you for less than a second. I parried it and swung at his legs, opening a deep gash in his upper thigh. The pain caused him to grab for his leg which cost him his head." "My slice through his neck caused his head to leap from his body and roll across the deck. Unfortunately for me, while I dispatched him, they'd moved you to the bow. I ran full speed down the length of the ship but it was for nothing. They threw you over the side. I knew that the water was too cold for you to survive or me for that matter but I dove anyway." "I surfaced in water that was as cold as ice but I couldn't find you. I dove again and again and finally came up with you, but it was too late. I screamed out in pain and frustration. But in the end I'd failed. I was hauled back aboard my ship with my teeth chattering. I was already beginning to go into shock from my plunge into the icy waters." "Before I passed out, I gave the order to kill all of the survivors. As my eyes closed in the dream, I awakened bathed in sweat back in my studio. Dana was standing in front of me and I had my angle grinder in my hand. The sanding wheel was whirring away and I was just staring into space." "Dana asked me if anything was wrong. I just shook my head and told her I'd just gotten lost in my thoughts. I shrugged my shoulders and began to sand the statue again. How the he'll could I explain to her that I'd crossed the ocean in my mind to try saving you?" "Kerri, at that point there was no doubt in my mind that I'd find a way to fix what was wrong with us. I think that you and I had the exact same idea in mind. We both thought that I just needed to get the Commerce Bank sculpture done and over with and then we could try to fix us. I guess in my version I was planning on taking a long break from working. It would be years before I worked again, if ever. I blamed us working so much for us drifting apart. There was no need for it. We had more money than we'd ever spend and it would keep rolling in for years to come." "I guess that during that period of time, I daydreamed a lot but I also worked myself to the bone trying to complete the statue so I could put our lives back together. I missed you something awful. All the way up until I had to go on the road to promote the prints of some of my earlier pieces. Those prints were a big money maker. We'd also licensed photographs, wallpaper, video game themes, computer wallpaper and even lunchboxes. The prints were, of course, secondary to getting my name out there to have people thinking about me for the bank opening." "I was also excited because you were supposed to be going on the tour with us. Dana called you four times at the airport. She'd called you three times the previous day. Finally, we got on the plane and left for the tour. That was the beginning of the end." "When you called during the taping of the Letterman show a few days later, Dana told me after I was done that you'd called. But I was too angry to even think about talking to you." "That night I gave Dana the job as my new agent. There were no contracts to sign or no notice to give you because I'd never actually signed with your agency. Your agency just sprang up around us." "After Dana went to her room to sleep, I lay there in my bed thinking about how far Kerri and I had fallen." "Before I knew it, I was in another dream. This time I was on some type of modern boat. It appeared to be kind of cheaply made. I was wearing a navy uniform. I looked around and realized that I was on a PT-boat in the middle of the ocean. We were heading for an island that was some distance away from us. We were going slowly and had no lights on. It was as if we were hiding from something." "After a few conversations with the men on the ship, I realized that I was once again in command of a ship. I also realized that the running silent thing had been my idea. We skirted the island and found an area where we could go ashore without alerting whoever inhabited the island." "After a few minutes, I left the ship followed by four men. We waded through thigh deep water because we didn't dare bring the ship in any closer. In fact, as soon as we went over the side the ship pulled even further out into the bay." "I looked at a map and took off jogging lightly but quickly through the dense jungle. About two kilometers further inland, we came upon a group of buildings. There were patrols scattered around the buildings and I realized immediately what was wrong even in the dream. I was carrying a gun. I didn't know shit about guns. What made me realize it was seeing the men we were going up against. This was obviously a World War 2 fantasy because the men guarding the buildings were Japanese soldiers. I looked around for an officer and spotted one behind the building to the left." "That building was as good a place to start as any. We circled around behind it. We came up behind the men guarding the building as well. We took them down silently using knives and choke holds. Then we entered the building after I'd relieved the officer among them of his sword. I felt much better then. The sword, a naval pattern Kyu Gunto, was a custom piece. The sword's typical machine made blade had been replaced by what was probably one of the officer's family blades." Ocean's Embrace A story inspired by the Nine Inch Nails' 'The Great Below.' I'd suggest listening to it while you read this one! * As the sun was going down, sinking silently into the horizon, I was listening to her explain in her half-angry, half-apologetic tone why she had decided to end our three-month long relationship. When I say 'listening,' I mean that in the loosest possible sense of the word. I had already seen it coming for the past week, heard it in her voice, in sighs that said that she wanted more, more that apparently I wasn't giving her. Yeah, I saw it coming, but that didn't mean I had to like it. I tuned back in and realized that she was still attempting to explain her feelings. I cut her off, "Look, I know, okay? You want something, something you feel I don't have to give, and you're breaking it off so that you can look for it elsewhere. You want to go, then fine, by all means, go." She blinked, stunned, and then became angry that I was casting her off so nonchalantly, not that she'd realize that I only appeared that way. In reality, it hurt like a rusty hook imbedded in my throat, but I wasn't going to make that obvious for her to see. "If you weren't that serious about all this, then why the hell did I bother?" she pointed viciously, almost stabbing at me with her lacquered nail. "Save me the accusations, all right? You're the one breaking it off, so how serious were you about it, really?" "You're a fucking asshole!" "Then for the first time in my life, this asshole got fucked by a pussy." She whirled on her heels and left. I'm sure I'd hear from her again soon, but not by any way for an apology, and definitely not to beg me for another chance. I wasn't delusional; she was way too proud for something so beneath her. No, she'd most likely come back with some retort that she would no doubt think up with some help from her friends, tossing it at me as she packed up the items that she'd kept in my place. Isn't life grand? I cracked open a beer and sat down on the back porch of the little house I'd bought. It was a fixer-upper, but it sat nestled up against the beach, so the steady rolling of the waves as they broke upon the shore, the awesome sunsets, and the fresh, salty smell of the sea had made it worth the price. The fading light, reddish-purple near the horizon, seemed to reflect the bruised and bloody end to this particular chapter of my love life. I toasted the sky and the sea glumly before chugging a few swallows of the brew. I suppose I should explain a few things about her. Just so you know... her name was Deirdre, and of course, when she danced up next to me at the club, I fell for her. Sure, call me a sucker, and it would probably be true. The booze I'd drank that night probably aided in that, but by no means am I blaming it on the booze. I can be a sucker without it just fine. I was at this nice little club just off the beach in town, having been brought along by a few friends, "Come on, it'll be a blast, with all the chicks there, there'll be no reason for you not to get laid tonight." I knew the drill. They wouldn't let up until I agreed to go, so I agreed. About eight shots later, I suddenly got it in my head that I could dance, and I just had to get up there and show off my moves. Didn't you know that dancing's a snap when you're all liquored up? Deirdre danced up to me and began rubbing her tight little butt against my crotch, so why not? I held on to her hips as she gyrated tantalizingly for a while, and then when the song ended, she turned around and planted a drunken kiss on me. Yeah, I was surprised, too. When I learned her name and bought her a drink, she became a permanent fixture on my lap. I learned a lot more about her that night, way more than my booze-soaked brain could retain. Well, as could be expected, she came home with me, her high-heeled sandals in her hand as we stumbled back to my place. You can probably guess what happened that night, so I'll let that be that. Somehow, she was still attracted to me in the morning. See, I'm not that bad looking to begin with, but I'm a Chippendale's dancer when the girl's drunk enough. So, anyway, we began dating for a few weeks, and then she ended up staying here more often then not, forsaking her roomy apartment for a while. I'm sure she was glad in the end that she had kept the apartment. I sat there on my porch, the sun now only a faint memory in the darkened sky, and I planned on drinking and brooding until I was too tired to care anymore. Yep, that was my plan...of course, plans change sometimes, whether you want them to or not. About halfway through my fourth bottle of beer, I convinced myself that Deirdre wasn't worth all this brooding. With this in mind, I told myself a good, long run on the beach was just what I needed to clear my mood-muddied head. I changed into some shorts and an old, battered tee shirt and hopped off my back porch onto the warm sand. I started running, getting down closer to the hard-packed sand, since I'm sure you know that running on dry sand is about as easy as running in knee-deep snow. I'm not a strong runner, but I do alright. I ran down the beach, getting lost in the steady sound of my sneakers smacking the beach, the whoosh of my breath as I expelled it, and the cool breeze that blew my sun-bleached hair off my brow. After a while, the sore, protesting muscles of my legs brought me back, and I slowed to a jog, and then a fast walk. I imagine I'd gone a few miles or so down the beach, but I kept on going, lost in my mind. I almost missed the form of somebody on the beach, just a little ways back from the water. As I got closer, curious, I saw a mane of dark hair flipping lazily in the steady breeze. She sat with her legs drawn up to her chest, her arms curled around her knees, and her eyes on the ocean. Although looks can be deceiving, and the only light came from the half-moon that had begun to rise into the star-speckled darkness, she appeared petite, almost like some teeny-bopper that had come for a quiet evening on the sand. I think she was too lost in her head to hear me approaching, but she started visibly when she at last perceived my presence. She looked up at me with dark eyes, narrowed a little in suspicion. "Sorry," I mumbled, "I just saw you sitting there, and decided to check on you, make sure you were okay." "I'm fine," she stated simply, and said no more. Her eyes returned to the ocean for a few moments, and then came back to me. "Oh, sorry," I ran a hand through my hair nervously, "I'll leave you alone." She sighed, saying something as I was turning around to leave. I stopped. "Say again?" "Story of my life." "What story is that?" "Leaving me alone." I wasn't sure what to make of that. Did that mean that she wished people would just leave her alone, or that people were always leaving her alone even if she didn't want them to? "What do you mean?" She shrugged, "It's complicated." Life is complicated. I waited, unsure whether to wait, or head back home, and she finally said, "If you insist on listening, you might as well have a seat." I sat, and I waited some more. She looked out at the ocean for a time, and I figured maybe she decided that I was not the right audience for her tale. Still, even sitting with this enigmatic girl was better than being by myself, so I sat, watching the ocean roll in and withdraw, an endless cycle. If God had a clock with which to keep time, I imagined that each tick would sound like the tide rolling onto the beach. It was soothing, if for nothing else, as a reminder that although the things in your life could be shitty, the worst things will pass, and the sea will still be there, pounding away at the sand. When she began to speak, her voice was quiet, and I had to lean in a little. "When I was younger, I used to wonder what it would be like to die in the arms of the ocean. After the panicked gasps for breath that pull in nothing but more seawater, just drifting down into its depths, at peace with all." She stopped for a moment, her head turning to look at me. "Why?" I asked, a little nervous that I had sat next to a girl with too many issues. "Because I was lost, adrift, helpless. One night I decided to wade in, up past my head, and just floated there, wondering if I could actually just release everything and let go, sink down. But I did nothing but float there, afraid to do it. It seemed like a peaceful way to go, but I was frightened of those seconds of panic." I sat there and listened to her, still nervous, but I think I understood, could maybe even relate. She continued, "I wanted to die, but then I didn't. Then I realized that if I just floated there, waiting to die, then I might miss something, something I needed to help me understand that there are things to live for." "There always are," I replied softly. "Yes, there always are. Only, the things that one usually would want to live for were reasons for me to want to embrace the ocean. Parents, love, friendship, those seemed to be reasons to die. My parents were a pair of alcoholics, ignored me mostly, though that's better than some of the crap I've heard that people go through. There was no love there, and certainly not in the eyes of people around me. It's depressing when guys that you meet are lacking that prospect of love in their eyes. They're always looking for something else." I'd been guilty of that on numerous occasions. I didn't say so, since I suddenly felt ashamed of this. "Friendship was a joke, a cosmically cruel prank to catch me off guard," she spoke softly, distantly, "My friends all seemed so eager to turn on me, or talk about me behind my back." "Some friends they were," I sighed. "The only thing I seemed to find a reason to live for...was me. I'm pretty sure I'm here for a reason, and if I don't figure it out, then why would I have been here at all?" Her voice, though soft, was sweet, lilting, well articulated. Suddenly she seemed less like a teenager and more like a wise, old woman. She was neither, I noticed, looking closely at her in the moonlight. She appeared to be of Asian descent, though I couldn't yet tell which one, but her features were softened, indicating that only one of her parents was Asian, the other American or some such nationality. She wore a simple sleeveless, white shirt and black shorts. Her legs were longer than I'd thought, her figure was willowy, and her hair ended at the small of her back. I looked back up to her eyes, so dark and mysterious. I was pretty sure she knew I was checking her out, and again I felt ashamed, reinforcing her earlier comment about what seemed to be on every guy's mind. I contented myself to look right back into her eyes. "We all should have some purpose, some reason to be alive. It's just that nobody seems to know what purpose that is. We're all clueless, just bumping along blindly in the dark. That question is the reason I decided to live. Do you think I'm crazy?" I worked that question over in my head, which had become noticeably calmer, and answered, "No. You're probably the sanest person I've ever met." As if what I'd said carried great weight, she nodded gravely. Her eyes left mine and returned to the ocean. After she became quiet once more, I could think of nothing to say that wouldn't sound amazingly shallow. Finally, I came up with, "Only problem is, those things we're always searching for, we never find them until they want to be found, or until they find us." She didn't respond, just kept gazing at the sea, as if she could glean the answers she needed from the endless pull and push of the tide. "I guess," she said suddenly, "that I lied to you." "When?" "You said you were checking on me, making sure I was okay." "And you said you were fine." "But I think you know that's not so true." "Then maybe you should walk with me." She asked, "Do you think I should?" "It doesn't matter what I think, only what you think." "Yet I think it matters what you think." I was a little confused. I waited for her. I didn't know what else to do. Her company, though eccentric and dark, was far more preferable than being alone. "It's odd in a way." "Why is that?" "At any point while I was talking, you could've just gotten up and walked away. You had no obligation to listen to me. But you didn't just leave, and I'm not sure why." "It seemed like you needed somebody to hear you." "And, now that I'm done, you're still here." "In case you have more to say." "But why are you really here?" I admitted, "Because I don't want to be alone. Do you?" "Sometimes I think I do. Other times, I like having someone around to share my thoughts with. Like now, I'm glad you came along, and I'm glad you sat down, even though you probably could've kept on going, and I wouldn't have held it against you." "Have you decided yet?" "Yes, I have. Help me up, please?" I stood up, brushing the sand from my shorts, and reached down to help her up. Her hands were soft and warm in mine. As she stood in front of me, I was reluctant to let go of her, and I wondered if maybe she'd sensed that. She made no attempt to let go, at least not for another minute. "Who are you?" I introduced myself. "No, who...are...you?" "Just another lost soul, I guess." "There're so many." "Yes, but we're always alone." "Not always." "How is that?" "You found me." I wasn't sure of the meaning behind those words, but I liked the sound of them. I let go of one of her hands, and we began to walk. The half-moon rose higher into the sky, and the breeze from the ocean grew slightly chilly. She shivered a little, drawing closer to me for warmth. We were silent, both inside our own minds for a while. Then she looked up at me, "What are you thinking?" I searched for the right words and eventually found them, "I'm thinking that this is the most peaceful I've felt in a long time. And I'm wondering what your name is." "My name is Mae Sung. My mother named me after my great grandmother, Mae." "What are you thinking?" I asked in turn. "I'm thinking that I'm very glad you stopped to see if I was okay. I don't feel so alone right now, which is the first time in a long time I've felt that way." "Do you live around here, or were you just coming to visit?" "I've lived here all my life. How about you?" "I moved here a while back, bought a place out on this beach." "Where at?" I squinted at the row of houses along the beach, and spotted mine quite a way off. The back porch light was on, and I could just see it. I pointed it out to Mae, and she nodded. "Maybe you can show me up close." We strolled on until we were at my back porch. She climbed up the three steps from the sand, and I followed, getting a glimpse of her willowy figure. I showed her to one of the lounge chairs, and asked her if she wanted something to drink. "No, that's okay. Thanks." I had left my beer on the table, about half full, and it had grown warm, but I found that I'd already reached a peace in my mind that the beer could never induce or expand. I poured the rest of the warm brew off the porch, and threw the bottle away. As I put the bottle in the trashcan in my kitchen, I turned to suddenly find Mae standing there. "Yikes, you startled me." She simply smiled, "I smell perfume. Do you live alone?" "I do as of today." "Rough breakup?" she asked. "Better than some, I guess." "It seems like a nice place," sensing the need for a new subject. I looked around. Most of the fixing up I had done already. About half a dozen small projects were left. Still, it did seem a lot better than it had when I'd moved in. "Thanks," I smiled. "So, what are you like?" "What do you mean?" She elaborated, "What are you like when you're by yourself?" I thought briefly, and then admitted, "Sometimes I'm happy to be by myself, and I do the things that I never had time to do before. But a lot more often, I rattle around the house by myself, just passing time, and I can almost imagine what it would be like to be the only person left in the world. It's a damn lonely feeling." She slipped into my arms without a warning, and I swear, it felt like she'd always belonged right here. My hands crept around to the small of her back, and I held her for a time, just the beating of our hearts, and the familiar warmth that comes from the shared heat of two bodies as close as ours. I felt her shudder, and then again before I realized that something might be wrong. I looked down at her. Her hands clutched handfuls of my shirt at my back, and her face was pressed against my chest. "Mae?" I whispered, "Are you okay?" "No," came the muffled reply, "But I'm better than I was." I moved one hand up to caress her hair, soft and long as the black tresses spilled like spun silk through my fingers. I felt her shudder one more time, and then a small shiver. She finally loosened her fingers, letting go of my shirt, and looked up at me. I looked back at her, questioning with my eyes. "I was feeling a little overwhelmed for a moment. I feel better now." Because the need was too powerful, and because I had this feeling that she wanted the same thing, I leaned down and kissed her, not like you see all the time in those corny movies, not all slobbery and somehow obscene. Just a soft kiss, our lips joined for a moment, and then I looked to see if the same feeling that I felt was in her eyes. Her eyes were so dark, still so mysterious even in the light, that I wasn't sure. "I think," she confessed, "I needed that more than you know." "Don't be so sure," I felt as if the warmth we were generating just from holding each other had increased from comfortable to mid-summer day. "I won't be until you kiss me again." I kissed her again, just as soft, but something in the kiss had changed. It was the same sweet kiss, but it was like the energy passed was like a current. I shivered, excited. When we broke this time, I felt her breath, shivery and wavering. I don't know if we'd just brought the scent of the ocean in with us, but I could smell it all over her. Without another word, I felt her hands under my shirt, feeling my back, her fingers scraping lightly across my skin. When she began to lift my shirt, I raised my arms. She dropped the garment behind me, and I felt her lips on my chest. I massaged her back, feeling the lithe muscles under her soft, supple skin. Her lips crossed my chest, planting small, sensual kisses wherever they landed. I slid my hands down to the firm cheeks of her bottom, and then lifted her up to me. Her legs didn't quite reach around my back, so I held her fully in my hands and arms. Her head was now over mine, and she bent down to capture my lips with hers, murmuring softly against my mouth. Then she released my lips just long enough to repeat herself. "Take me to bed." Needing no further encouragement, I carried her, feeling my way along the kitchen, to the hallway, passing the little laundry area closed off by two accordion doors, making my way down the hall with her in my arms, my eyes and mouth too consumed by hers to look where I was going. Nevertheless, because I knew the route, I reached the door on the left, near the end of the hall, next to the spacious bathroom that also had a door to my room. In my room, there was a queen-sized bed and a hammock, one on each side of the room. I aimed for the bed, and when I reached it, knowing when my knees hit the mattress, I intended to set her down on it. However, as I released her, she insisted on standing on my bed. When I backed up half a step, she stood there, her breath quick, her eyes a spotlight of unspoken urges. But for a moment nothing happened. She looked at me, waiting, and I looked at her. Ocean's Embrace Only when she lifted her arms up did I realize what on earth she was waiting for. She wanted me to undress her. This was new to me, since the girls I'd been with before had always felt the need to take their own clothes off. I found it incredibly appealing, not to mention unbelievably erotic, that Mae wanted me to be the one to undress her. I gripped the bottom of her shirt on either side and raised it up, entranced by her braless breasts, so patiently waiting for my lips. As her hair fell back down, freed by her shirt, I pressed my lips to first one breast, then the other, tasting each coffee-hued nipple, which I felt sure tasted like the salty ocean air. She pressed her breasts to my face, her arms wrapping around my neck, her lips on my head, sighing and cooing at me, her voice smoky with desire. My hands slid down to her butt again, round and pleasing, and the heat of our need was deliciously scorching. My fingers found the button of her shorts and undid it, unzipped the zipper, and tugged slowly on her shorts, down her legs, which felt wonderfully smooth and firm. She stepped out of her shorts, and the sight of a simple pair of white cotton panties greeted me. I noticed a small wet spot, no bigger than a half-dollar, where the material covered the source. Down went those white cotton panties, and up went my hands, caressing her legs, back up to the small black thatch of pubic hair above a pair of dark-pink, thin inner lips that guarded her lubricated heat. She didn't allow me to linger too long on my loving examination of her. She pulled me back up to her eyes. "I need you now. Maybe another time I'll give you as long as you could possibly want to please me in that way, but right now, I need you too much." She hurriedly downed my shorts, wasting no time in freeing the phallus that had been tenting the thin fabric this whole time. She took me in her hands, the contact so soft and fleeting that I wondered if she was even actually touching me most of the time. Then she went to her knees on my bed, and sat down. She took my hand and pulled me to her, on top of her, her legs on either side of my hips. "Please, right now," she whispered tremulously. I lifted myself just above her, and she gripped me, guiding me to her, and I hovered for just a second before lowering down on top of her. She was already so ready, so moist, and I sank slowly into her. Her heels rested on the backs of my thighs, and she pulled on me, urging me in that silky-smoky voice to take her right now, she needed me right now. I moved within her as she gripped me just tightly enough to send courses of pleasure through me. She moved with me, raising up to match my thrusts with her own. I kissed her almost breathlessly, my rhythm increasing at her request. Soon the urgency with which I thrust matched her own urgency to receive me, and that sent her over the edge, into a frenzy of climax, and she shuddered with more intensity than when she had shuddered in my arms earlier. The release did nothing quench her need, and I found myself thrusting deeper into her, feeling like I might lift her off the bed with each stroke, but it brought her back up again, gasping, trembling as the pressure of her pleasure exploded, and then again before she could come down from the last. By some unspoken decision, she pulled her legs up to her chest, and I pulled her up on top of me, without me slipping from her, and she straddled me, moving her body seductively, her hair swinging around her face. I brushed it back and then held onto her hips, occasionally running my hands over her thighs. She moved me, grinding herself against me while impaling me inside her. Then she brought her knees up again, and began lifting herself up almost to the tip before sliding back down, and I was hypnotized while I watched my length disappear into her, joining with her on a most primal level, but somehow it was all new. She leaned back a little, her hands holding her up, and she moved in quicker and deeper strokes. She began making a thin, mewling noise in the back of her throat that seemed to signal something earth-shattering impending. With each urgent thrust, the mewling evolved more into moans, then cries, reaching near screams as molten heat gushed from her center, out onto me, coating me generously. Her near screams took an incredibly long time to lessen, but when they did, fading back to gasps and whimpers, the urgency faded somewhat. Then, to my surprise, she collapsed back onto the bed, and I slipped quickly from her. She gasped for breath, hitching, still shivering in the afterglow. Once she'd regained some of her breath, she flipped over onto her stomach, and raised up onto her knees. I could see her entrance, the dark pink inner lips engorged slightly, her clitoris more so. I took the nonverbal cue and raised myself to my knees, positioning myself behind her. With one easy, deep thrust, I imbedded myself into her. She cried out, suddenly filled full of me. I rocked back and forth, and she thrust back so that our skin slapped loudly. Incredibly, in this position, she began to climax quicker, with less time to recover between. Her lubrication soon gleamed in the dim light as it coated her thighs. Earlier in our lovemaking, I almost felt like I could go on forever, giving her endless pleasure, but she gripped me so tightly now in the thrall of orgasm that I now felt myself perilously close. I began to withdraw, and she jerked, startled. "No! Don't leave me. It's okay, just fill me. Please, I want you to fill me." The pleasure and pressure was too much, and I very soon after did just that. I made one last deep thrust, and unraveled a thick ribbon of my seed helplessly into her. She moaned and quivered as she felt it, pressing back hard against me, until one more weak spasm later. Feeling that I was done, she fell forward onto her stomach. For long moments, the only sound was our labored breathing, random creaks from the house settling, and the background susurrations of breaking waves on the shore outside. When she moved again, it was only to curl up in my arms, pressing her back against my chest. I slipped my arms around her, just under her breasts and buried my face in the abundance of her hair. It was at this point that I floated off to sleep. My dream was at first terrifying. I found myself deep in the ocean, floating somewhere within, vast expanses of water all around me. I kicked and surged, but brought myself no closer to the surface. In fact I could sense that I hadn't moved an inch from where I was. My struggles ceased, since they were obviously useless. So I floated, quickly becoming calm, and even began to appreciate the ocean's embrace, its loving, watery arms wrapped around me as intimately as a lover, and even more so. The terror of the dream faded, and I found peace in it. I floated. I was the ocean, and the ocean was me, and we were one. When I woke, I felt refreshed, and the dream, unlike most others I'd had, did not fade from me. Indeed, it stayed with me as I opened my eyes. I was at peace as I'd never been before. That peace lessened a little when I found that Mae was no longer in my arms, or in my bed. I sat up and looked around. Her clothes were gone. I got up and strode through my house, searching every room for Mae, but she was gone. 'Story of my life,' I heard her voice in my head, as clearly as if she'd spoken it aloud right behind me. In fact, I was so startled that I whirled around, half-expecting to find her there, gloriously nude, just waiting to slip into my arms. I was disappointed to find that she was not behind me. Still naked, I sat in a chair at my kitchen table and lay my head on the cool wood of the table. Again, after such soaring exhilaration of finding Mae, I was alone. Again, in my head, Mae spoke, "Not always." Surprised, I spoke aloud, "How is that?" Mae's answer was, "You found me." I laughed hollowly, feeling more than ever like bursting into tears. I was remembering our conversation from last night. I had feverishly hoped to find her here with me, but it seemed that all I had after all were my memories. I went through those memories, recalling our conversation, the crazy way that they had started. "Sorry," I mumbled, "I just saw you sitting there, and decided to check on you, make sure you were okay." 'I'm fine," she had said, but she hadn't been, not at all, speaking of going into the ocean and those seconds of terror, gasping for air and getting only seawater. Sitting at my table, perilously close to tears, I hoped that I had helped her feel better, given her something to live for, a purpose. Later on that month, I drifted listlessly, walking the beach, daring to hope I'd find her there, contemplating the depths of the ocean. I walked the beach both day and night, but I did not find her. Not until the end of that month. I drove into town and bought some groceries. I didn't buy beer. For some reason, after the night with Mae, alcohol just held no attraction for me. As I put my purchases into my jeep, I looked over toward a one-story, sprawling building in need of paint. The faded letters on the front proclaimed: LIBRARY. I was walking over towards it before I realized that I'd moved. It was hard to explain, but I felt as if some invisible current was pulling me toward the building, and I was helpless but to yield to this current. I reached the door and opened it, a cool draft of the air conditioning greeting me at the entrance. I walked past the front counter, nodding absently at the old librarian in a stiff-collared blouse. I passed the aisles of bookshelves into an area with tables spaced in two rows of three, kept going, and found myself in a large room with two machines made to view almost a hundred years of newspapers. Most of the newspapers were local, the Gillespie Herald, all of them were copied onto microfiche, easier to go through than mountainous heaps of old, dried papers, and less of a fire hazard. My hand moved over the film catalog, separated by dates, seemingly aimless until my hand stopped as if stayed, on the previous year. The month was June, the beginning of the summer last year. I had been in Cleveland that summer, visiting relatives, eating like a pig at the reunion barbeque. I picked up the microfiche and loaded it quickly and effortlessly into the machine though I'd never before used one. June 1st, no, not the first, nor the second. I kept moving the dial, day after day slipping past, until I stopped, and my eyes froze, tears forming and slipping unnoticed down my cheeks. June 23rd, of 2007, and on the front page of the Herald was Mae Sung smiling shyly in a picture, her delicate hand forever frozen in the process of tucking a strand of her silky black hair behind her left ear. Two young children, swimming near the south shore of Gillespie Beach happened upon the corpse of a woman at around eight in the morning. The police responded to a frantic 9-1-1 call placed by a frantic mother, and pulled the corpse from the water, where, according to the chief medical examiner, Vick Mallory, it had been for at least four hours, just before sunrise. The corpse was later identified as 24-year-old Mae Sung, a local woman. No signs of foul play were detected, and the cause of death was listed as "Death By Misadventure." "It's very easy to drift too far from shore," Sheriff Bryce Mitchell explained at a press conference, "And just as easy to become disoriented since the currents are often unpredictable. Still, it's tragic when something like this happens, especially when it happens to a young woman like Mae Sung, who seemed to have such a promising life ahead of her." The tears blurred my eyes too much to make any sense from the rest of the article, but I had seen enough. I had seen too much. I removed the microfiche with trembling hands and returned it to its spot. Stunned, shocked, none of these words did justice. I returned to my jeep, drove home, and put all the groceries up, only able to function because I didn't have to think about it. I couldn't for the life of me explain what had happened last night. Maybe Mae had a sister who liked to use her deceased sibling's name. Maybe it was some prank. Anything seemed more plausible than the idea that was going through my mind. I waited for the sun to go down, and went for a walk. I walked slowly, knowing that I was foolish. I knew that I wouldn't find Mae sitting there, because Mae Sung had died just over a year ago. Nevertheless I walked. I recalled our conversation again, moving along from word to word. She had spoken of just plunging into the ocean and relinquishing her life to the arms of the ocean. Perhaps she had done just that. Maybe she had panicked just as she had said, but I doubted now that she was able to get back to the shore after all. She had gasped for air, only to breath the ocean into her lungs. The lack of buoyancy from the misplaced air in her lungs would pull her down, and after a few flagging kicks and struggles, the life would leave her body, and she would be cradled by the current. I was crying again, the tears flowing silently as I remembered the dream. It hadn't been a dream, I was suddenly sure, but a last memory from the eyes and mind of Mae. My mind was whirling so fiercely, I almost didn't see her. Her head emerged, about sixteen feet or so from the shore, her black hair plastered to her head. Her face appeared above the water, and more as she moved towards me. I stopped, my hands fluttering uselessly. I think I had intended on bringing my hands to my face, maybe covering my eyes, because this could not be happening. Mae was wearing her simple sleeveless, white shirt, stuck to her skin, her breasts almost completely visible behind the saturated fabric. She was also wearing the same black shorts; they dripped continuously as she walked up the gentle slope onto land. She was as beautiful as the night I'd first met her, completely unlike the corpse that two unfortunate children had most likely found over a year ago. She gazed at me pleadingly as she came toward me. I wanted to run. I wanted to race to her, to hold her in my arms again. I stood there, immobilized by fear and awe. When she reached me, she just looked at me imploringly. When she spoke, it was not the wet rasp of a cadaver suddenly imbued with terrible consciousness, like in the movies. It was the same sweet, lilting, silky-smoky voice I remembered from that night, and from endless memories. "I was afraid you would hate me." "How?" I whispered. My voice would not produce much more than that, my throat felt so tight and thick. "I didn't want to leave you. The ocean called to me, and I had to obey. I felt horrible for keeping the truth from you. That's why I sent you to the library, to learn the truth. Even if you hated me for it, I wanted you to know the truth." "I..." I choked back a sob, reaching to her and touching her cheek, her hair, "I could never hate you. I only wanted you back. Did you..." She seemed to understand what I couldn't say, "At first, that was why I swam out. But when I became too tired to keep myself afloat, I suddenly did not want to die. I tried to make it back, but then I swallowed the water, and went under." "My dream..." "Yes, your dream. I wanted you to know the peace I felt once it was too late. The ocean, she allowed me to walk the beach. So I did. Still, I was so alone, even though so many people walk the beach at night. So many people." "So alone," I half-sobbed. "Not always." I couldn't say it, but I didn't have to. "After all, you found me, didn't you?" I nodded, the pressure on my heart too much, I felt it would implode. "You found me, noticed me as so many others didn't. You just wanted to make sure I was okay. I said I was fine." "But you weren't." "No, I wasn't. But you made everything better. You did for me what nobody else could. What was the reason I had for wanting to live?" "A purpose," I sighed miserably, "You had a purpose, a reason that you were alive. You wanted to find that purpose." "Better late than never. I never figured it out until after. I had a whole purpose for living, and even though I'm wasn't alive anymore, I still searched for it. But I didn't find it. It found me. And it said that he was just checking on me to make sure I was okay." I shook my head, "It can't be." "But it can. My purpose, my whole reason for the life I'd thrown away, was you. And now that I have found my purpose, the ocean has agreed to let me go home. I just wanted to see you one more time before I go." "Please..." I slumped, "I can't...you..." "But you must. I found my purpose...my purpose found me. But your purpose is still waiting to find you." "You're my purpose," I cried out, "And when you leave, there's nothing." "No," she stroked my cheek with a warm hand, "As much as I wished I was still alive to be your purpose, I'm not. But you'll find it soon enough. I just hope you'll realize it when you see it." She dropped her hand, "But I have to go now. My time here is done, but I'll never forget you. For the only time in my life, and even after, I felt truly loved, and I'll never forget what that feels like." She started to turn, and I flung myself into her arms. Only my legs, weakened in my grief, spilled me to my knees. I pressed my face into the sodden front of her shirt, tasting the salt of the sea. Her hands cradled my head for a moment, and then I lost consciousness. I woke with a start. I was lying curled up on my side in the sand. The sun had come up. "Are you okay?" I shook my head, the sand falling from my hair. No more...it was too much to stand. A hand touched my shoulder, "Do you need me to take you to the hospital?" I rolled over onto my back, the sun biting viciously into my eyes. I blinked and squinted. Then a cool shadow fell over my face and I was able to see. My breath caught as dark eyes peered into mine, the concern evident. "Can you sit up?" she asked. I nodded, but I still needed her assistance to sit. She brushed the sand from my hair and shirt, fussing over me. "Did you fall asleep out here? That can be dangerous, you know? You're way too close to the water. You could've drowned." "I did," I whispered. "Huh?" she looked at me worriedly. "But I didn't." "Did you bump your head?" "Not hard enough, I guess," I muttered. Gradually she got me to my feet. I swayed slightly, but slowly gained my balance. "I'm glad you're alright," the woman laughed, relieved. "Do you realize how many people drown every year?" I looked down at the beach, where the waves broke on the wet sand. My breath caught again, and I felt dizzy. There were footprints leading to the water, which was steadily erasing them. Tears sprouted in my eyes at the sight. The woman looked at me curiously. "She said goodbye. She came back to say goodbye." She looked at me oddly, but with sympathy, "Well, that's more than most people do. Usually they just go away and leave you alone." I nodded, and then said something that struck a chord in my heart, "Story of my life." A short Epilogue "Sweetie?" A hand touched my face, worried. The hand stroked my face, and then the soft voice, "Darling?" I awoke gradually to find two dark, mysterious eyes on mine. Mae? The face cleared, and I realized I'd been crying. It wasn't Mae, but Holly. She looked concerned, just as she had that morning three months ago, when she had found me too close to the water. I smiled tremulously, "I'm fine." "Were you having a nightmare?" "No," I shook my head, "Just peaceful." "Peaceful enough to make you cry in your sleep?" I nodded, and kissed my purpose for living. Ocean's Secrets (c)Pelaam: October 2007. Prologue: The five year old boy screamed with terror as he was swept into storm-churned oceanic depths. The swiftness and severity of the squall had caught all aboard the yacht by surprise. Although he wore a life vest, water was in his eyes and mouth. He could neither see nor continue to cry for help. The salt water made him cough and choke. Then a voice was telling him to breathe deeply and hold his breath. Instinctively he obeyed. He felt himself moving swiftly, and he clung tightly to the bigger body that held him, trusting it implicitly. He was at the end of his endurance, air bubbling free when his journey ended. Then his memories began to fragment. A face, framed with long dark hair. Rainbows. Crying not to be taken away from the dark-haired figure as other voices spoke. Being rocked gently by that same figure, the other nuzzling into his chestnut hair, soothing him. A voice promising it would never leave him. Another, older, deeper voice, telling him to sleep. Finally, being found by his sobbing parents and older brother and only being able to remember a rainbow had saved him. **** Ewan looked up and stared appreciatively at the azure Tasman that stretched out before him. He had been doing some research at Auckland University and had decided to enjoy a few days' rest and see the North Island of New Zealand. He had gone to Rotorua and experienced the unique sulphur smell of the area. He had taken a trip on Lake Taupo, the lake equal in area to Singapore. He was now on the beach in Oakura, just outside New Plymouth. He had looked around the town and was currently enjoying being stretched out on the black sand. He intended to spend the next day going partway up Mount Taranaki, whose presence dominated the local landscape and which was still regarded as an active volcano. He adjusted his shades. Whilst in England he would have considered anyone with glasses of such a size ridiculous. Here however, the sun was bright and hot and shade and sunscreen were essentials. He gave an envious glance at a couple walking by. Although he looked like any other attractive, single man he had seen over the last few days, he did not feel like one. The offer to come to Auckland had come at the right time for him. He had just broken up with a boyfriend.. yet again. Ewan wondered what it was that constantly attracted him to tall, broad men with long dark hair. He had been attracted to boys from the moment puberty had struck. He had always been honest with his parents and found them to be rocks of support every time a relationship went wrong... and they did. Always. Despite his near-brush with death as a baby, Ewan loved the ocean. His only memory of that day was of the rainbow that rescued him. He had no fear of the sea and had successfully gained a degree in Oceanography and a Masters in Marine Biology. He had been so focused on study that he had devoted almost no time to relationships. Then as a newly graduated MSc, he had fallen and fallen hard. Ste was perfect: tall, dark, handsome and intelligent. He had been a few inches taller than Ewan at six feet two and his glossy, jet black hair had reached his broad shoulders. They had dated a few times, during which Ewan had barely noticed the niggling headaches. However, as their relationship had become more physical, Ewan's headaches had become more intense. The one time Ste had used his mouth on Ewan, the smaller man had barely climaxed when his headache had made him so ill he had spent the next day in bed. He had been diagnosed with migraine. However, that did not explain the sensation of 'wrongness' that had accompanied his orgasm. Within a week he and Ste had gone their separate ways. The next couple of potential partners had fared less well. Moderate kissing and light making out were fine. Anything more intimate triggered a migraine and the unwelcome feelings. Ewan could find no explanation within himself for what he perceived as some kind of fear of sexual intimacy. He knew there were no skeletons in his closets. He smiled when he remembered his mother's words when he had confided in her; "When you find Mr Right, all your headaches will vanish. Just be patient." Sometimes Ewan dreamed of a dark figure, rainbows swirling in the background. Occasionally the figure seemed close, but he never truly 'saw' them. They would call to him, holding open their arms and Ewan would run, desperately trying to reach them, always waking before he reached their embrace. Then he would discover he had come in his sleep. Those dreams left him wanting to throw things at walls in sheer frustration. That was when he embraced the joy of free-diving. He relished the freedom of swimming without the encumbrances of diving equipment. He was an accomplished free-diver, well able to hold his breath for considerable periods of time. Now, whenever he felt sexual tensions building up, he dived. He knew he could not always turn his back on his problem and he was glad he enjoyed his work so much. He returned his gaze to the sea. He hoped his mother was right. As much as he loved his job and the ocean, he felt a part of himself was missing. Something he could no more explain than the migraines. His parents were currently in New Zealand for a holiday themselves. They had only just arrived and he intended to take them with him up Mount Taranaki. It would be nice for them all to be together for a while. **** Ewan and his parents returned tired but exhilarated from their day exploring Mount Taranaki. His mother disappeared to check the phone for messages. Ewan and his father went to sit out on the bach's balcony, enjoying the view of endless ocean. Ewan looked up as his mother joined them, a piece of paper in her hand. "You've had a call from Professor James, Ewan," she said, leaning to give him a kiss on the cheek. "It was a lovely day, thank you," she added. Ewan flushed with pleasure and headed inside to return the call. Professor Richard James had been a guest speaker at a couple of Ewan's Master's classes; the older man holding doctorates in Oceanography and Anthropology. He wrote many short articles, as well as having a private income inherited from a wealthy family. He and Ewan had become fast friends and kept in touch despite the distances that could separate them. Richard was now in a remote part of South America close to where Ewan had his accident. He was interested in a small tribe's local legends of sea spirits. He was also doing papers on their art, folklore and the fauna of the river which was a large part of village life. The note had said to call anytime, so Ewan did. "Ewan, thank goodness," Richard's voice was tired, excited and, although it seemed ridiculous, afraid. Ewan was puzzled and intrigued instantly. "What is it, Richard?" he asked. "Can you come here?" came the distant reply. "I'll pay all your travel costs and send everything you need." "Um ... sure, but what...?" "Not on the phone," Richard's voice was barely above a whisper. "When you're here." **** It took several days to reach where the Professor was living; a flight to South America, another local flight, a train journey and then most of a day in a truck. That still had Ewan in a fairly civilised part of the tiny country. He could then opt to hike to a small village and then further to the Professor's location. Or he could get a boat and sail around the coast, land in the small lagoon and walk from there. He chose the latter. Out on the sea he was able to relax more than he had for the last several days. As Ewan piloted the small craft towards the lagoon he noted the huge luxury yacht that was anchored at sea. Given there was nothing nearby, the ship seemed out of place, but it held little real interest for Ewan. Richard James was soon to hit fifty and his years of outdoor work had given him a leathery, tanned skin. His hair, although receding, was still dark and close cropped. He stood on the beach watching for Ewan's arrival. There was no jetty here, but he had installed lights to illuminate the beach and the way there from his home. They were solar powered, although he did have a generator and could use electricity when necessary. He owned the land here and was considered a friend by the village whose customs he studied. His blue eyes glared angrily at the big yacht and then warmed as Ewan's boat came into view. It seemed just minutes later that older and younger man were embracing tightly and laughing joyfully. Richard said nothing other than generalities as he led Ewan into the lush foliage, away from the beach, and his own home. "I think it's safe here," Richard said, as they sat under large leaves for shade. "What is it?" Ewan asked, his curiosity almost making him vibrate. "I made an incredible discovery. A mummified fin, one the likes of which I'd never seen before. It seemed to be almost between a fin and a hand. There are many local legends around the river and the ocean, just as you would expect for people who rely on them for their livelihood. There is a drawing, which I can let you see. However, I didn't realise I was under surveillance." "Government?" Ewan asked, his chocolate brown eyes, wide with excitement and anticipation. "You must have seen the yacht?" Richard asked and received a nod. "Max Goodman. The name ring a bell?" "Hunter, playboy, magnate," Ewan intoned. "Doesn't he have his own large reserve where he permits hunting?" "It's also reputed he can get even protected species for his 'guests'." Richard nodded grimly. "I don't know how he found out about my fin, but he approached me offering ludicrous amounts of money if I passed anything of 'interest' I found over to him. I sent him away, but knew I didn't dare keep the fin. I'm good friends with the village Shaman. I gave it to him." "What happened to it?" Ewan asked. "He consecrated it by fire and sprinkled the ashes into the river," Richard smiled grimly. "He tells me that the spirits used to come into the river more often, but are rarely seen now. They want no dealings with 'modern' man. He swears his father spoke face-to-face with them. It is possible that the fin was a mutant, an aberration. But if there is a marine creature of dolphin size living hidden in these waters, it would be an immense scientific find. Although, in honesty, I'm not sure our world is ready to know of it." "Scientists would want to descend here," Ewan said thoughtfully. "The villagers' life as they know it would be destroyed. The local flora and fauna would be razed to have accommodation erected. Roads would be needed. The whole ecological system would be destroyed. And what of the animals themselves? Could we be certain of their safety? Even with scientific watches, poachers would try and capture them." "So what do you want?" Ewan asked. "You to free-dive," Richard said excitedly. "No noise, no equipment, just you and the sea. If you could just get a glimpse of anything, it would be enough for me. The land I own here is willed to you and your family and I know I can trust you. I want Goodman to up anchor and leave. I'm hoping if he sees what looks like just swimming and enjoying ourselves, he'll decide there's nothing worth hanging round for and go." "And if I see anything?" Ewan breathed. "It's between us and the Shaman. Agreed?" "Agreed," Ewan nodded. **** The next day, Ewan stood on Richard's porch and breathed deeply. The browns and greens were relaxing and the heat tolerable, although he knew the humidity would rise. He was anticipating his free-dive, even if he saw nothing. He felt Richard's hands on his shoulders and let himself relax back against the bigger man. There was nothing sexual between them, although when they had first become friends, Ewan's imagination had run riot. Instead their friendship was one of the most cherished he had. He trusted the older man implicitly, second only to his father and equal to his older brother. He felt the hands stiffen and then leave his shoulders before seeing what had clearly angered Richard. Two men were approaching. One was bleached blond and perma-tanned with an artificially white smile that did not reach his cold green eyes etched across his face. He wore only white cut-off denim shorts that showed a powerful, smooth body, with well-defined muscles and six-pack. The man behind him was dark and had an even more powerfully muscled physique. Ewan could imagine both men working out for hours to keep themselves in such condition. He guessed the identity of the blond. He would have detested the man for the look and aura of arrogance and superiority he projected, even if he had not known of the man's nature. "Well, well, well, Professor," Goodman drawled. "When were you going to introduce me to this juicy little morsel?" "Mr Lea is a colleague and a family friend," Richard growled. "I had no intention of introducing him to scum such as you," he snapped. Ewan saw the flicker in the cold green eyes, but the fake smile never wavered. "So you're available," Goodman said, eyes raking over Ewan's body, stopping to stare blatantly at the younger man's groin. Ewan suddenly wished he wore more than the thin, drawstring white pants through which his swimming briefs would be visible. The purposeful stare and deliberate leering were unnerving him and making him flustered. Then he gasped, not believing such a large man could move so fast. His arms were pinned against a solid chest and a hard mouth crushed against him. A sharp pinch to his rear made him gasp and a tongue rapidly invaded and then withdrew. The headache that came in the wake of his assault almost brought tears to Ewan's eyes. Then Goodman was back at his bodyguard's side. "No, Richard," Ewan whispered shakily, as the older man went to stalk forward. "He's not worth it." "Hot and sweet, my favourite," Goodman said lasciviously. "You are as far away from my preferences as it is humanly possible to be," Ewan retorted, trying to keep the tremor from his voice. "I can make you a very rich young man if you 'assist' me," Goodman said suavely. "I wouldn't assist you across the road," Ewan snapped. "You revolt me." "You're trespassing. Get off my property now." Richard demanded. "I am in the process of obtaining an injunction to prohibit you from landing in my lagoon or being anywhere near me or my property. "You want pretty teaching some manners?" the dark man asked as Richard moved Ewan protectively towards the door of his home. The voice was no less menacing for its softness. "I will teach him my own lesson, Greg," Goodman hissed sibilantly. "He will scream and beg like all the others when on his hands and knees impaled on my flesh." Goodman's hand slid to rub his burgeoning erection, letting both Richard and Ewan see his arousal, before Richard whisked Ewan inside their refuge. Greg smiled nastily. His employer was as likely as not to share the pretty young man. While Greg's preference was for women, he would not turn down an attractive male, especially at his boss' order. Greg had seen the 'sessions' Goodman had with those foolish enough to refuse or annoy him. No one wore any visible marks of Goodman's prolonged passion, but all left with their spirits broken and none brought charges. His boss was far too good and far too rich. He was untouchable and he always got what he wanted. **** Unaware of Goodman's tainted desire for him; Ewan was smiling and joking with Richard as they headed to the lagoon after their unwelcome visitors had gone. They had minimal equipment with them and as they sailed out into the middle of the water, Ewan began his series of deep breathing exercises to infuse his cells with oxygen for his dive. He preferred the single over-sized fin to propel himself along with an undulation of his body. He had a camera around his neck to take random pictures. As he swam, Ewan had the uncanny sensation of being watched; not from one side, but from several. Yet even when he performed a graceful pirouette, he saw nothing out of place. Shaking his head, Ewan slowly began to ascend. **** Ewan performed another elegant rotation in the water and then stopped. There was a large powerful body before him, long, dark hair framing an undefined face and treading water easily. Arms opened, reaching for him and Ewan tried desperately to swim towards them, but could make no headway. He gave an impossible scream of frustration as the other performed a graceful flip to vanish from his sight and Ewan's eyes snapped open. He blinked as he realised he was outside Richard's home, his heart thundering and his breathing as laboured as if he *had* just completed a free-dive. He hit the wood of Richard's porch with a muted cry of denial. He had never sleep-walked before, but then his dreams had never been so clear either. He gave a sigh and began to head for the beach. He stood at the water's edge for a long time, simply staring out. The placid water seemed to soothe his frayed nerves. He looked up at the moon; it would be full the next night. He turned to head back to the house, then he whirled as he heard a splash, but the sea was serene once more. Shaking his head, Ewan continued home. **** The next day passed in much the same way, except for receiving no unwelcome visits. Richard admitted that an injunction was only good if it could be enforced, but as there was no one other than themselves, it was little more than an empty threat. Ewan insisted he was only concerned that Goodman would find something before them. After his own free-dive he watched the comings and goings on the yacht through binoculars from the sanctity of the lagoon beach. However, as Goodman seemed to have no success, his divers climbing back aboard the yacht empty-handed, it made Ewan grin with a perverse satisfaction. Ewan was hopeful that another couple of days of the same and Goodman would tire of finding nothing. The young man ambled back to the house, whistling happily. Ewan did not want a repetition of the previous night's nightmare. He decided to take another walk to the lagoon to settle himself before going asleep. He wore the cotton drawstring pants and had a towel over his shoulder. Although he would not swim out far, he did want to swim just a few feet from the shore. He smiled as he gazed out at the ocean. The moon illuminated it with its silvery touch and it looked ethereal. However, Ewan was unaware that it touched him the same way. He appeared to be a creature of silver and blue like the sea itself and even more beautiful in a cold, white way. A strong arm wrapped around his waist easily, another around his mouth. He was hauled kicking and uselessly struggling towards the trees. "My lucky night, little morsel," Goodman's voice whispered in his ear. "I was only checking out your boat, but this is too good an opportunity. Relax, it'll hurt less," he laughed mirthlessly, a cold dry sound devoid of humanity. Breath whooshed from Ewan's body as he was crushed against unforgiving wood by the bigger body. A cruel hand in his hair rammed Ewan's head into the tree making the smaller man see stars. He heard the pants he wore tear, then felt them slide down his body and he moaned a denial behind the palm that still gagged him. A rough hand touched him freely, pulling and squeezing, seeking to cause pain, not pleasure. Goodman's harsh breathing becoming quicker. Ewan could feel the bigger man's arousal pushing into his buttocks, stopped only by Goodman's own clothing. He was whirled around and pushed to the ground, Goodman climbing on top of him immediately. Ewan whimpered as much from the pain that stabbed in his head as much as the pains in his abused body. Suddenly the weight and pain were both gone and a familiar voice spoke. "Breathe deeply and hold it." Ewan obeyed as he had so many years before. This time he knew there was something... other...about the voice. Not only its calmness or smooth, deep tones. Then strong arms were enveloping him and he clung to the bigger body tightly. He felt them enter the water and travel at a speed he had no hope of matching. Ewan knew these were the arms in which he belonged. *This* was the man he had sought all his life. He held tighter, afraid that if his loosened his hold the other man would escape. Ocean's Secrets "I promised I would never leave you." Ewan heard the voice again and suddenly remembered the vow. One made to a small, frightened boy. He was reaching the end of his endurance when he and his rescuer surfaced. He was effortlessly carried and laid in soft sand. Large, luminous, dark eyes regarded him with anxiety. Ewan could do nothing other than stare at the other. A tall, powerful, sleek male body knelt between his splayed thighs. Ewan considered he should be afraid...no...terrified. The big body might be human-like, but it was *not* human. The long, black hair, in what seemed to be a mix of dreadlocks and long plaits, had shells woven in it which picked up multi-coloured hues from the phosphorescent walls. He reached up a shaky hand to caress a face which was achingly familiar. The skin felt dolphin-like and was of a pale brown shade. At the touch, the big male smiled, showing sharp, white teeth; the kind dolphins or orca would have. It did not matter that the male was not human. Ewan knew this was the second time he had been rescued by this creature. He also knew this was his soul-mate. "He tried to hurt you. " Now Ewan understood what had been different about the voice. He was not hearing it with his ears, but in his mind. "How can I understand you?" he husked. He watched mesmerised as the male gave a kind of shrug and the trinkets in the long hair glittered and jingled. "It has always been so," he replied. "I understand not your sounds but your thoughts. We do use sounds when swimming, but they are generalised. This is the way to communicate." A webbed hand, large and fin-like, touched his temple. "You ... you're a ..." "Merman, I believe the term is by you land-dwellers. I am called Silverfin," he indicated a patch of glistening scales on the webbing of his left hand. "You saved me as a child," Ewan whispered. "Yes. And I have waited for many years for you to come back to me. I always prayed you would. The day I saved you I knew we had bonded. I knew I had found my mate, the other half of my soul. My mother thought it was imagination on my part as I was but a child and you a baby in her eyes. We returned you to your people and I have waited so long, so very, very long." Ewan could both hear and feel Silverfin's yearning in his mind. He lay back, to stretch out on the sand, whimpering softly as the bigger body moved to settle over him. His breath became ragged as Silverfin's tongue traced with infinite gentleness over his face, around his eyes, across his jaw until finally ... finally... their mouths met. Ewan felt an explosion of pleasure. His mind began to spin and his body jerked as he came without even realising he had been aroused. The joy he felt in his mind almost overwhelmed him. Silverfin's tongue danced over his skin, tasting him as sharp teeth nipped at fragile flesh. Physical and mental pleasure became as one as he was licked clean by his mate. "I've never felt this way," Ewan moaned. "I want you so much and there's no headache." "I could feel your desire for others and it caused me pain. I did not know I hurt you, too, little one. I am sorry." "No, no," Ewan panted, pulling his lover down to kiss frantically. "If you hadn't...if I had..." It was impossible for him to make sense. His body and soul were crying out to unite with his mate. "Yours," he whispered huskily. "I've always been yours." "Always," Silverfin murmured in his mind. "I would have waited an eternity to have you here in my arms." "I need you, Silverfin. I ache for you." "So very many empty years; they will end this day," came the mental reply. The big male then began to rasp his tongue over the expanse of Ewan's honey-gold skin, caressing chocolate nipples before sharp teeth nibbled at them daintily, quickly raising them to diamond-hardness. It traversed the smooth caramel chest before teeth tugged playfully at the dark curls around Ewan's rapidly reviving sex. The dark head dropped between Ewan's spread thighs and the young man cried out softly as the agile muscle began to tease his virginal opening. "I forgot you do not lubricate here," Silverfin's voice was in his mind, even as his tongue licked over his tightly furled flesh. "I must be careful to prepare you properly." Ewan unashamedly wailed and thrashed as Silverfin's long tongue penetrated him. It thrust deeply inside and then slid out to lick around his entrance and his recently depleted sac, only to start all over again. It quickly found his hidden jewel and joy filled his mind as Silverfin pleasured him to a second orgasm. "Please, Silverfin. I want you. Use my come to lubricate me if you need to, but please come into me," Ewan begged. The emotion in his mind was confusing, but the response confused Ewan even more. "It is too soon to consider pregnancy." Then thought was forgotten as his legs were pushed back towards his shoulders and Silverfin was positioning himself at his entrance. Ewan gasped as a long, slender, slick appendage slid from its genital slit, impaling him fully. Silverfin's body settled over him. Ewan's legs were released so he could wrap them around the bigger body. Ewan moaned as he felt the hard flesh within him vibrate against his prostrate. Silverfin's body was also moving, writhing pleasurably over him, rubbing against his sensitised nipples and slowly re-filling flesh, his teeth nipping and tongue licking. It seemed to Ewan that he could feel Silverfin's pleasure as well as his own, each man fuelling the other in a rapidly intensifying spiral. He was clinging to the bigger male, digging his heels into the powerfully muscled body, trying to kiss any part of Silverfin's skin he could reach. This time, the rainbows he saw behind closed lids were the precursor to his rapidly approaching climax. It was becoming impossible to breathe. Ewan was kept teetering on the edge, wave after wave of pleasure crashing over him. Finally he was plunged into a deep ocean of bliss by a bite to his nipple and an incredible burst of joy in his mind as wet heat flooded his body. He screamed his own completion until his voice gave out and his mind, so overloaded by the dual sensations of physical and mental ecstasy, took refuge in unconsciousness. **** Ewan awoke slowly. As he peeled back his leaden lids, he blinked at the unfamiliar sight of cavern walls. He gave a soft moan as he sat up, every part of his body protesting the move. It was at that point his memories came flooding back; the attempted rape, the rescue by Silverfin, making love with the beautiful merman. Ewan could feel how well-used his body had been and see the bruises adorning his skin. A cold feeling began to make him shiver as he lurched unsteadily to his feet, ignoring his body's protests. He had been rescued by a ... a merman? The shivers became shakes as his mind attempted to deal with the memories. Had he dreamt his rescue in an attempt to be able to deal with Goodman's assault? Then strong arms were around him, teeth nibbling at his throat and a concerned voice was in his mind. "What is it, little one? What has you so scared?" Ewan whirled and buried himself against the bigger body. Silverfin *was* real. He felt the sobs begin as he was lifted as easily as a child. His legs wrapped around the sleek body as the merman carried him to a more deeply sanded part of the cave. He felt Silverfin sink down to sit, Ewan positioned astride powerful thighs, rocking and crooning till Ewan once more had control of his roller-coaster emotions. He lifted his head from its pillow of Silverfin's shoulder. "I thought you were a dream," he husked, trying to answer the worry and confusion he could feel emanating from the other male. "My poor, sweet one," Silverfin soothed. "It has been such a shock for you." His teeth nibbled across Ewan's collar bone and the young man guessed that this was the equivalent of kissing for the big male. Deciding he needed what *he* considered a kiss, he framed the beloved face in his hands and pressed their lips together. A jolt of pleasure in his mind accompanied a pleasured audible sound. Ewan licked at Silverfin's lips and took advantage when they parted. His tongue swept inside tasting and exploring the other's warm, wet cavern. The intimacy was slowly banishing the cold feelings. He moaned as he felt his body lifted and he was impaled on Silverfin's erection. The emptiness within was instantly replaced with a voluptuous feeling of fullness. His body's aches were quickly forgotten in a maelstrom of physical and mental pleasure. He panted into Silverfin's mouth as the merman's organ shimmied against his prostate making his own aching shaft throb and pulse, pre-come flowing copiously. This time a large, webbed, ridged hand enveloped his straining flesh and another scream was ripped from Ewan's throat as their climaxes crested simultaneously. Ewan's release splashed their bodies as Silverfin's seed flowed deep inside his contracting channel. Ewan offered no resistance as he was laid in the soft, silvery sand. His lover's tongue and teeth covered his body, cleansing him, tasting him, letting him know he was loved. His legs were spread and Silverfin's agile organ lapped gently around his entrance, licking away the excess semen that seeped down his thighs and kissing the pink rosebud reverently. Ewan tried to spread himself wider, relishing the touches, offering and submitting his body to the bigger male, delighting in the mental joy that followed in the wake of physical fulfilment. "I love you, Silverfin," he murmured. The ecstatic surge in his mind had his vision greying and he realised that, although he had known it from the moment he had seen the other male, this was the first time he had said it aloud. He grinned at the incandescently smiling visage that shone with joy above him and tried to say it only with his mind. "I love you." Kisses and nips were bestowed with abandon as Silverfin's voice in his mind repeated over and over: "I love you. I love you. I love you." Ewan could only assume that his passionate sexual responses to Silverfin were due in some way to the mental bond they now shared. Although he had read about how important the brain's involvement could be, he would never have expected to have experienced it in this way, or with such intensity, for himself. Despite having only just come, the smaller man found his sated sex not so sated as the bigger male learned to kiss while continuing his nipping and licking. It hardened as Silverfin continued his loving attentions and then Ewan moaned softly, hips thrusting steadily as his mate tenderly milked the swollen organ to a second, more gentle release. Replete, Ewan lay in Silverfin's arms, nuzzling affectionately and pleased to find the other male's nipples emerged from their protective slits to allow him to suckle, pinch and roll the alluring cinnamon nubs as he was cradled to the broad, smooth chest. "Are you sure I am no hallucination now, my little one?" Silverfin asked, an affectionate, indulgent tone to the mental voice. "Quite sure," Ewan murmured contentedly, pressing closer to the smooth, warm body. "Good. Come, we must go," he continued, rising and pulling a reluctant Ewan to his feet. "Go where?" Ewan queried, nestled close to Silverfin whose arm tightened possessively around his waist. "To meet my family. My mother is anxious to make her apologies." Ewan froze, causing even the bigger male to stop. "Family? Meet your family? Like this?" Ewan squeaked, indicating his naked body. Silverfin's response was as confused in emotion as in speech. "You are beautiful. I do not understand your agitation." "Look at me. I'm..." Ewan's voice tailed off. Silverfin was just as naked. The difference was his lover's endowments were once more safely ensconced within his genital slit while Ewan's were on display. He sighed. He had nothing to wear and, even if he had, it might draw even more attention to him. He decided to stay as close to his mate as possible. Silverfin felt the capitulation, even if the male was not entirely certain what had agitated his beautiful, young mate. He pulled Ewan to his chest and bestowed a long, deep kiss, the kind of caress Ewan seemed particularly fond of. He smiled adoringly as deep brown eyes looked up at him, shining with the love he had desired to see for so many long years. There was almost nothing Silverfin would not do to make Ewan happy. "They will love you as I do," he assured, wondering if that was the source of distress. "I do love you, Silverfin," Ewan whispered from the sanctuary of the broad chest. "Very much. Let's do this." It was important to his lover and Ewan would walk on hot coals for Silverfin. **** Ewan was led to a pool and they dived in together, the smaller man letting his mate propel them with sure swiftness to emerge in a larger grotto. Ewan stood shyly at Silverfin's shoulder as he looked around at those present. There were two mature pairings; one mixed sex, one male. Behind them were two more couples that Ewan would put at Silverfin's age and a single female. Again the pairings were mixed and male. Further back was a large pool in which a small boy and girl splashed. They glanced over with interest, but made no attempt to leave where they sat. Ewan felt a nudge in his back which became more insistent as the older female stepped forward. Hesitatingly, Ewan took a few steps from his mate's side. "I am Crescent Moon," the female said softly. "Mother of Silverfin and of Dancing Cloud," the lone mermaid was indicated and nodded. "And mate to Notchfin. I am truly very sorry for all the pain I have caused you and my son." The sorrow Ewan felt in his mind was almost crushing in its intensity and the young man realised that Crescent Moon could, most likely, have felt his mate's pain over the years. His lack of dress was forgotten as he moved forward to try and alleviate the older mermaid's sadness. "I was a baby," Ewan said. "And your son just a child. You sought to care for us. In truth my parents and brother weren't ready to lose me at that time. Now I'm an adult and I can explain my choice to them. All I wish is that I had known Silverfin was waiting here. I searched for him in all the wrong places. But now we're together, as we should be, as we want to be. I would much rather you were happy for us in the present than remain saddened by the past." Ewan silently prayed he had found the right words. The feelings of joy that almost knocked him off his feet were testimony to his success. "Your mate is as generous as he is beautiful, my son," Crescent Moon smiled. "Thank you, Ewan and you are a beloved and welcome addition to our family. Let me complete the introductions. Notchfin's brother Dark Cloud and mate Spinning Wind, Their children Goldenfin and Half Moon and mates Shark's Tail and Rainfall and infants Leaping Dolphin and Rainbow." Ewan followed the introductions, pleased to see that, although he was the only land-dweller, his was not the only same-sex partnership. Then Silverfin was beside him, nipping and nuzzling, the bigger male's happiness as visible as it was felt by the smaller man. He grinned happily and wrapped his arms around his sleek mate. Then there was a subtle shift in Silverfin's emotions and Ewan's cheeks flushed. Desire seemed to be pouring off Silverfin in waves. "Ewan and I will return later, when he is more rested," Silverfin announced, as the other couples headed towards the large pool to join the playing children. There were no comments and all Ewan's unpractised mind could detect were feelings of joy, love and contentment. **** Ewan lay thoroughly sated in Silverfin's strong arms. The bigger male still licked and nipped, as well as kissed, the languorous younger man. Although he did not want to leave his new-found love, Ewan knew that he had to return to let Richard know he was alive and well, find a way to tell his parents of his new mate and, most important of all, ensure Goodman left with no knowledge of the family to which he now belonged. It took but seconds for Silverfin to react to Ewan's feelings about the hunter-playboy. "What is it, little one?" he asked anxiously, seeing no cause for Ewan's sudden agitation. "I have to go back, Silverfin," Ewan said sadly. The distress he felt almost took his breath away. "I cannot live on land," Silverfin cried. "You have to stay with me, beloved. Please." "Hush, love," Ewan whispered. For the first time he was the one able to offer comfort. He climbed over his mate's strong body and kissed him tenderly. "Not for good. I have to tell Richard I'm ok and I have to make sure Goodman leaves." "Richard?" Silverfin queried. "Sunkissed," he said, his hand tracing over Ewan's face. He was rewarded by a nod and smile. "That's a good name for Richard. He'll like it." "But Golden Evil still walks out there. You will not be safe." "While he walks out there," Ewan said, certain he knew exactly who Silverfin meant. "*You* are not safe. Nor are your family." "Our family, little one," Silverfin corrected Ewan gently. "We have avoided your kind for centuries," he added. "I can't take the chance Goodman might uncover your home. He would have you in a freak show or hunted to extinction. You want to protect me don't you?" he suddenly asked, as if changing tack. "Of course, you are my beloved mate," Silverfin replied. "And you are mine; I want to protect you, too. Let me deal with Goodman. He won't stay out there forever. Keep away from his yacht. I think his divers are using tranquiliser darts. Weapons that if they hit you would make you sleep so he could imprison you," he clarified at Silverfin's confusion. "If he tries to hurt *you* again I will not care what weapons he has. I will not permit his touch upon you. You are *my mate*." Silverfin rolled their bodies, unsheathing and penetrating in one fluid move. He felt the smaller body react to his arousal. The hitherto flaccid flesh between Ewan's satin thighs hardened between their undulating bodies and his mind cried out to his mate. Silverfin's teeth and lips flew over Ewan's skin committing taste and texture to memory as he gyrated. His fingers scraped and tugged at the entrancing nubs on his mate's chest in between the nibbling that seemed to bring so much pleasure to his writhing man. Verbal moans spilled from Ewan's lips and Silverfin recognised them for the pleasured noises they were. His throbbing sex rubbed effortlessly over the sweet spot in his beloved's body that increased the smaller man's delight. Too soon Ewan cried aloud his name and ecstasy flooded the bigger male's mind as Ewan's seed spread between them. Silverfin reached under Ewan's body, trying to pull even further apart the smooth, creamy globes. He wanted to bury himself still deeper in his mate and then his own cry echoed in the cavern, his juices filling Ewan's still spasming channel. "I wish you *could* make me pregnant," Ewan murmured in the afterglow. "You would look radiant carrying our child," Silverfin replied, nuzzling affectionately at Ewan's sweat-sheened skin. "I swear that I shall make you pregnant once the threat to us is no more. I will come to the beach at sundown," he added, kissing Ewan into silence before you young man could question his vow. "Swim with me?" "Only if it's safe," Ewan said, refusing to let his desire for his lover cloud his judgement. "Please don't take chances, Silverfin. It would destroy me to lose you now." "You will never lose me, little one. I will take care. My heart's dream has finally become a reality. I will not jeopardise our love, my heart-mate. You promise likewise?" Silverfin added. "I promise," Ewan replied. **** Richard clasped Ewan to him sobbing his relief at having the younger man back safe. He kissed the smooth forehead again and again as if reassuring himself Ewan was no apparition. Ocean's Secrets "Come with me," Ewan said, once the older man had recovered his composure. He took Richard into the foliage until he spotted a suitable tree. He looked at it grinning. "You still up for it?" he asked and then laughed as he was left standing and Richard easily ascended to the middle of the branch a decent distance up the thick bole. "Now can you tell me?" Richard asked. "I found your cotton pants this morning, they were torn and there were signs of a struggle. I was convinced Goodman had kidnapped you. I went to the village and they were ready to supply me with canoes and warriors to storm the yacht." "I was attacked by Goodman," Ewan began. He watched as the older man's face betrayed every emotion as he related his tale; anger, disgust, shock, disbelief, acceptance and finally delight. "Silverfin will watch over me, but we have to watch over him and his family. My family." "We need to go and speak to the village Shaman," Richard said. "In part to let him know I won't need any warriors or canoes and that you're safe. Also he's the only other man, except for the Chief himself, which I would entirely trust. For the most part the villagers don't care about the outside world, but some have travelled to the next nearest town and the kind of money Goodman throws around would make them very rich." **** Ewan gave the Shaman a much edited version of events as they sat in his hut. The elderly man had sent away his servant, deciding that whatever he was to be told was for his ears alone even before he could be asked for privacy. He gazed steadily at Ewan, as though seeing more than the young man was saying. Finally he nodded and Richard translated for Ewan. "Many years ago there were tales of the Spirits rescuing a small child," he said. The Shaman spoke again. "You were that child." "Yes," Ewan whispered. "It is good you have come back. You have their blessing. We will prevail over this man who threatens the Spirits and our way of life. I will speak to my Chief. I will ensure Goodman is no longer welcome here. However we must be careful. He has eyes and ears amongst the tribe. Those foolish enough to listen to his words and believe he will honour his promises." "I was afraid of that," Richard said, firstly to Ewan and then to the Shaman. "Perhaps you would be safer here in the village," the Shaman said. "I need to be by the lagoon," Ewan said. "But Richard ..." "No way, not after what happened to you last time you were alone," the older man said, shaking his head vehemently. "You may need to go to the lagoon and I'll give you as much privacy as I can, but I'll be there with my rifle from now on." "Let us pray this man leaves and leaves soon," the Shaman said quietly. He might not understand the language of the beautiful young man before him, but he was wise enough to recognise what was in Ewan's eyes when talking of the secret dwellers of the ocean and old enough to remember tales from the past of those who left the land to join them. **** Richard was as good as his word. He accompanied Ewan to the lagoon and sat, rifle ready, as the younger man reached out to his mate with his mind before plunging into the cool, moon-kissed ocean. Silverfin watched as the object of his desire swam through the dark water. As a creature of the sea, he was able to see as clearly in its shadows as a land man could see in daylight. His lips parted and he smiled. It was time for mating. He longed to unite with Ewan knowing his beloved would joyfully take every inch of his quivering penis into his body, and bring him long awaited satisfaction. It seemed too many hours had passed since he had last been one with his lover. Silverfin avidly watched the unsuspecting young man above him as he floated gracefully on his back. Silverfin's eyes devoured the sight of Ewan's arms reaching out to move him gently through the water as he let the cool moon caress his face. When he finally rolled over to begin the steady movements that would take him to the middle of the lagoon, Silverfin gave a mental growl. Between Ewan's thighs, his slender penis jutted up toward his belly. His mate was aroused and the merman could scent the fluid that was weeping from his lover's erection. Silverfin felt his desire become more urgent, the need to claim Ewan almost overwhelming him. With an easy push of his strong, webbed feet, he started his rise to the surface and the tempting creature of the land, that swam unawares, waiting for him and him alone. Ewan knew Silverfin was close by and teasing him. He would not have entered the water unless told so by his mate. The combination of swimming naked and feeling the water's eddies flowing over his heated skin were making him aroused. Combined with the knowledge that his mate was close...watching him, desiring him had his shaft thickening, filling, growing hard. He flipped onto his belly and the contrast of the water on his flushed skin caused pre-come to ooze free. Ewan stopped swimming to tread water and reached to take himself in hand, to tease Silverfin in his turn, when he sensed something approaching rapidly from behind. Before he could make any effort at evasion, strong arms encircled him. A large body was quickly flush with his and legs nudged his thighs apart. Silverfin was already pressing urgently at his entrance and he moaned wantonly as sharp teeth began their nibbling and biting. He was invaded by a warm, well-lubricated penis that gave him a voluptuous sensation of fullness, as well as pleasure, and he felt complete. It was up to Silverfin to make sure Ewan's head stayed above water as Ewan became lost in their shared rapture. He spread his legs further apart and tried to thrust back onto the organ that teased him to depths of excitement and fulfilment he had never known with another. Moans spilled from his throat as the merman's arousal shimmied against his sweet spot. Ewan came, his semen leaving a cloudy trail in the cool water. As he did, he heard the mental cry of joy from Silverfin and then his mate's seed was filling him. Impaled on his mate's penis, Ewan could have breathed water and not cared. He was growing hard once again as Silverfin's penis remained erect and harboured in his channel. The hot seed his lover ejaculated into him had him feeling desired and debauched. The undiminished flesh within him left him helpless, waiting for the pleasure to begin once again. He was bound by Silverfin's desire and dependent on his mercy for his own fulfilment and yet knew the same was true of the merman. The sensual feeling was sublime and Ewan never wanted it to end. He moaned softly as his lover reached around to take Ewan's renewed erection in the scaly palm of his hand and begin stroking him to completion. Ewan groaned and writhed on the shaft within him, his channel contracting and relaxing until both males came a second time. As Ewan felt Silverfin reluctantly pull free of his body, some of the abundant crème the merman produced clouded the water around them. "That was incredible," Ewan thought to his mate as they submerged. His neck and shoulders were kissed and nipped as Silverfin held the lithe body tightly. "I missed you," he replied. He pressed his lips to Ewan's in the touch he knew his mate liked before letting the slighter body rise to the surface. "I wish you could come home with me," the merman added, watching the naked form tread water just above him. He circled to nibble teasingly at Ewan's toes and the delectable creamy mounds of his ass. "Soon," Ewan promised, praying it would be the case. **** The next day passed with interminable slowness. Ewan's spirits soared as he watched the yacht sail further out to sea only for them to plummet when it dropped anchor once more. He could swear Goodman was doing it to torture him. The arrogant faux-blond had attempted to reach the village only for a couple of warriors, appointed by the Chief, to refuse him access. It now meant if he wanted supplies, he would have to either find them for himself or contact civilisation and have them delivered. Ewan could imagine that a yacht of the size Goodman had would be well-stocked, but fresh water would have to be gleaned from the river. "Anything?" Richard's voice asked sympathetically. "No, he dropped anchor," Ewan replied glumly. He rubbed at his temple, a niggling headache beginning to develop. Ewan was certain it was linked to missing his mate. He felt incomplete without the merman and knew it was worse for the dark-haired male. Once mated, they should not be living apart, furtively grasping at minutes together once the sun had set, like fugitives or criminals. He wanted ... needed to express his joy and was forced to keep it hidden, bottled-away until Goodman finally tired of waiting ... or the mind-games he was playing. He felt a tender, mental caress and fought to keep the tears from his eyes. Even now his mate was trying to take care of him. He glowered angrily at the detested ship. "Why doesn't he just go? He must know we wouldn't do anything that he might pick up on." "I'm not certain that his only interest is in a new type of marine life," Richard said candidly. Ewan blinked. It had not occurred to him that the other man might still be interested in him. "He's not one to take losing well. " Richard continued, giving the younger man a small smile. It was clear to him that Ewan had been so focused on protecting Silverfin that his friend had all but forgotten the attack on himself. Richard's eyes moved from the stunned brunette to the ship. As much as he wanted to protect the ocean's secret, he also wanted to protect a young man he loved like a younger brother. However, he knew there would be no way to induce Ewan to leave now. Nor would Ewan consider moving to the village. His hand tightened its grip on the rifle he never went anywhere without, fervently wishing the wealthy magnate would just give up and go and yet, in his heart, knowing it was one unlikely to be granted anytime soon. **** That evening, lovemaking was slow and sweet, the merman tenderly touching his lover as much with his mind as with his hands and mouth. It was a long time before he moved to unite their bodies and, this time, Silverfin faced his beloved. Ewan's legs were wrapped around his sleek body as best they could and his lover's hands gripped tightly to his broad shoulders. He locked his unfathomable, dark orbs with his mate's as he slid slowly into heated depths and continued to watch his mate's expressive face as his organ pleasured Ewan. Ewan had prepared himself as if for a free-dive and remained beneath the surface until both climaxes were simultaneously reached and it became beyond his ability to continue holding his breath. He did not need to tread water. Silverfin's strong hands held his hips and the merman's lips and teeth nibbled daintily at his stomach. Ewan sighed. It was almost perfect. When he next submerged, he found that the rest of his new family were close by, their own mental messages of love and affection strengthening both Ewan and Silverfin. Ewan tried to pretend it was just sea water that slid down his cheeks as he surfaced once more, but it was impossible to hide the truth from his lover. Silverfin's head rested over his breast. "I love you, my heart-mate. We will be together soon. He will tire of waiting and catching nothing but an empty net." "I'd never forgive myself if he hurt you or our family," Ewan thought back as he caressed the dark-haired head, holding Silverfin against his heart. "We can protect ourselves," the big male asserted. "You don't have guns," Ewan replied. "But we are not helpless," Silverfin persisted. "Do not worry so, my sweet one," he added. Soft bites to Ewan's irresistible nipples accompanied the mental words. "I have to return to land, but I don't want to leave you," Ewan mourned, arching his back for more of the pleasurable sensations. "Be brave, my love," Silverfin urged, as he reluctantly released his mate, giving each of the taut nipples a final kiss goodbye. Ewan felt his lover's eyes following his progress as he swam back to shore. Richard handed him a large towel and he wrapped it around his lithe frame to try and ward off a chill that was not entirely due to the cool night air. Although he would prefer full privacy when in the lagoon with Silverfin, Ewan was grateful for the protection of the older man and, tonight, was especially appreciative of the hug and companionable arm around his shoulders as they returned home. **** Ewan had little motivation to wander around the next day, preferring to use Richard's laptop to e-mail his parents and allude to his having found his Mr Right. He hoped they would remain as happy when they found out the true nature of the 'tall, dark, handsome,' male that Ewan nonchalantly hinted at. He gave Richard a melancholy smile and the older man came to wrap his arms around him. "I'm looking forward to meeting your partner and his family," Richard whispered. "And I'm sure your parents will be happy that *you're* happy," he added. "You think so?" Ewan asked. The simple gesture seeped some warmth into the cold chill that seemed to have an almost persistent presence in the absence of his beloved mate. A commotion outside had both men running from the house. The Shaman stood there with an armed tribal guard and another member of the village. He looked chagrined as he glanced between Richard, Ewan and the Shaman. Richard translated quickly as the Shaman spoke. "This man has been acting as a spy for Goodman," he explained to Ewan. "He's been watching us from the jungle. He was caught by one of the Chief's guards set to keep an eye on us and ensure our safety. They want us to come to the village as Goodman is getting restless and planning something." "I need to go to the lagoon first," Ewan said, frantically "I have to let him know what's happening. If he worries he may try and find me." Richard made a move to pick up his rifle, but before he could reach it, Goodman, Greg and two other men they did not recognise, armed with handguns, burst into the clearing. "Naughty, naughty, professor," Goodman chided mockingly. "You really shouldn't play with guns. Say hello to the rest of my crew, gentlemen," he added, indicating the two unknown men who stood smiling nastily. "I'm tired of playing a waiting game and now I have everything in place, it's time to make my move. Let's take this party to the beach." Ewan glanced worriedly behind him as best he could from the iron-hard grip Greg had on him. Richard, the Shaman, and other two tribesmen were covered by the guns wielded by Goodman's crewmen. Goodman himself stood to one side, nonchalantly lighting a small cigar. "Now it's very simple, Ewan," Goodman said, as though addressing a child. "You seem to be able to get these things to come and play in the lagoon, so I want you to get one here and you will get it in the cage that I have beneath my yacht." Ewan glanced at the craft that had been manoeuvred to the delta of the lagoon. "And if I refuse?" he asked defiantly. He gave an involuntary gasp as Goodman moved swiftly and tore open his shirt. "Then I will have to hurt the professor," Goodman said in an artificially apologetic tone. "He'll kill us anyway, Ewan," Richard shouted desperately. "I have no need to be so crass, professor," Goodman said, turning to look at the older man. "Once I have what I want, Ewan will enjoy a few weeks of my hospitality. You will do nothing because you care for him. He will let his parents and his brother, with the beautiful wife and adorable little baby girl, know he is safe and with me of his own volition. I know exactly where they are, Ewan," he added in a sibilant hiss. Ewan was in turmoil. Goodman was threatening one of his families, but protecting the one would result in the betrayal of the other. He shook his head, unable to make a sound, his mind instinctively warning Silverfin to stay as far away as possible. "I don't ... I can't..." he finally stuttered. "Let me give you a small demonstration of what the professor can expect, my boy," Goodman whispered, his voice darkly seductive as though he and Ewan were lovers. He ran his hand down Ewan's chest, tweaking at one of his nipples and then pressed the heated tip of his cigar on Ewan's breast. Ewan gave a scream of pain and fear as he struggled uselessly in the strong arms that held him. He heard the shouts of anger and denial from behind him and then whimpered as Goodman's empty hand reached to begin caressing his other nipple. "Have you any idea how much it will hurt when I press this here?" Goodman asked, pulling at the small nub and waving the cigar before Ewan's frightened eyes. "Please...no," Ewan moaned, but could see there was no mercy in Goodman's hard, cold eyes. A noise from the sea diverted everyone's attention and Ewan's eyes widened at the sight of Crescent Moon rising gracefully from the waves. The young man shook his head frantically, his mind screaming at the mermaid to return to the safety of the waters. "No wonder you kept *this* a secret," Goodman breathed. Ewan felt Greg's grip loosen as the man was enthralled by the sight of the creature emerging onto the beach. The young man took full advantage. He drove his elbow hard into Greg's belly and kicked backwards. As the bigger man grunted his pain and released Ewan, the lithe man leapt onto Goodman, driving him into the sand. "Get away!" Ewan could not be sure he screamed the words vocally or with his mind. He just knew he had to make Crescent Moon return to the safety of the ocean's depths. He was peripherally aware of a commotion behind him and then Goodman was on top of him, driving hard fists into his unprotected abdomen and backhanding him so brutally as to leave him gasping for breath and seeing stars. The assault suddenly stopped and then Ewan felt himself enfolded in a gentle embrace .Crescent Moon's voice was in his head, crooning sadly and softly, holding him tightly and rocking him as he tried to make her release him. "You have to go back. You have to go back." The words were a mantra in Ewan's head and then another, beloved voice was there. "Come to me, little one. It is all over now." "Silverfin," Ewan cried as he burrowed into the broad, warm chest and sobbed out his fear and pain. "Must go." "It is safe, little one. I promise. Golden Evil will never hurt another. None of his people will hurt another." "How?" Ewan murmured, the tender embrace settling the brunette. He was moved a small distance from Silverfin's body to stare wide-eyed as the merman made a fist and four long, razor-sharp spines emerged from the back of his hand. "We need to defend ourselves in the oceans and also use these to catch fish to eat," Silverfin explained. "Golden Evil and his people attacked and hurt you and threatened those we have had under our protection for many years," Notchfin's voice replaced his mate's in Ewan's mind. "We would have preferred to see him leave, but we could not let him continue to hurt you. We could all feel your pain and what it was he threatened." Ewan could find no sympathy for Goodman or his men. They had shown no mercy and had effectively reaped what they had sown. He briefly wondered just how many others Goodman had threatened in the manner as himself, then that thought was pushed aside as another struck hard. "How are we going to explain his death and the deaths of his men?" Ewan asked, his voice stricken. "I have an idea," Richard said. "One the Shaman agrees with, as does Notchfin. Ewan leaned to see the older man, latching desperately onto his words. "I can pilot the ship out to sea and we can scuttle and sink her after we remove anything that might have information about this place, and us, stored on it. Computer, laptop, discs, anything of that kind. Notchfin and his family will take the bodies, and the equipment we remove, way out to sea in the opposite direction and will bury them in an underwater cave. Their disappearance will become another mystery of the sea. There will be nothing here for any future investigators. As the Shaman says, they could tell the truth and say Goodman was punished for offending the Spirits and have no notice taken of them." Ocean's Secrets "What about his spies?" Ewan asked, eyeing the tribesman suspiciously. "He has taken a vow of silence over what he has seen and heard," Richard said. "To know the Spirits are real has had a profound effect on him. He has asked to serve the Shaman when they return to the village." 'Everything will be fine, my heart," Silverfin added, nuzzling his mate. "You will see." **** Goodman's disappearance was reported quickly and local, as well as international, investigators came to check the area. Richard and Ewan said they had seen the yacht and knew Goodman was diving in the area, but it had simply been there one evening and gone the next morning. Searches of the jungle and the ocean turned up nothing, whilst the villagers spoke in hushed terms about him offending the Spirits of the ocean. There had been no distress signals from the yacht; although there had been some storms at sea it might have been caught in. As no one could say for certain the direction it had taken, the search zone had expanded outwards and still turned up nothing. Back at the missing man's home, investigations had turned up his trade in hunting rare animals; allegations coming thick and fast as Goodman's life was examined more closely. The rumour-mill was rife, spouting the wealthy man had staged his own disappearance, knowing he was about to be investigated. Ewan's parents came out to visit him and they spent much of their time in the village or visiting their son in the lagoon. They had left after three weeks, promising to return within the year. No one seemed disturbed, life going on as normal in the village and Richard and Ewan continuing with their studies. As days became weeks and nothing of Goodman could be found in the locale, the detectives slowly went away to focus on events closer to home and investigate sightings of the magnate in other parts of South America. Throughout it all, Ewan continued to take nightly swims whenever possible. **** "It is over, little one," Silverfin assured. "All strangers have left. The sea is ours once more." "I just worry so much," Ewan murmured from his comfortable position on Silverfin's chest, pausing in his sucking of a dark brown nub. "We have searched the area with our collective mind. There is no one here, they have all gone. Golden Evil's remains will never be found and his craft was taken a great distance from here before being given to the ocean's depths. Even if the others return, there is nothing here for them to find." Ewan nodded, eliciting a pleasured gasp from his mate as his hair rubbed against the nipple he had pleasured. "I want to love you," Silverfin murmured. "Want to be deep inside you, filling you." "Please." Ewan's reply was a plea and a demand. Ewan took one of Silverfin's hands and began to cover the back with gentle kisses and then turned it over and ran his tongue over the palm, never taking his eyes from Silverfin's. Ewan was pushed flat onto his back, Silverfin making a place for himself between wide-flung thighs. He knelt there for a moment, drinking in the sight of his mate. His tongue flicked out to lick Ewan's hard shaft from the base to the flushed head. He carefully pressed the heel of his hand against Ewan's sac and then rolling the precious orbs it contained. He ran a finger between taut buttocks, probing the furled entrance hidden from his sight. Ewan was almost out of his mind with the need to be taken. "Please," he begged Silverfin. Ewan lifted to his elbows, craning to watch what his mate would do to him. Silverfin's long, slender penis slid out of its sheath, glistening with natural lubricant. Silverfin teased his lover, rubbing it over Ewan's flexing portal, inserting just the tip and withdrawing. He smiled at the gentle whimpers from his mate as he withdrew once more. Then he used a finger, wielded with infinite care, to stretch his lover. Ewan shamelessly wailed as Silverfin touched *that* spot inside him "Oh, that was good. Again," Ewan pleaded, as he tried to thrust back and take in more of his lover's finger. Silverfin used his strength to hold his mate still. Then he changed his position, Ewan's legs draped over the merman's shoulders, as Silverfin's tongue teased his mate's weeping arousal.The big male gave a satisfied mental growl at the sight of his mate writhing and moaning continually. He worked finger and tongue faster, monitoring Ewan for the signs of his imminent release. Just before Ewan came, Silverfin replaced his mouth with his hand and caught all his lover could offer. Ewan was boneless and tried to watch through heavy-lidded eyes, but his lover's mental crooning had him virtually drowsing. He knew Silverfin was using his seed to anoint his own already slick shaft. He felt the merman work some into his own stretched channel. It was the first time they had made love this way and Ewan's stomach gave a sudden lurch of anticipation, remembering the vow his mate had made. Silverfin then lifted Ewan's hips high onto his thighs, keeping them angled upwards. Then Ewan lost coherent though as he was entered and his lover's organ shimmied frantically against his jewel. Ewan was certain he could feel their combined heartbeats as Silverfin seemed content with nothing less than thoroughly possessing him. His mate's hard flesh was pushed deeper into his body than ever before. Silverfin using his powerful haunches to press inside as his penis continued to vibrate. Each movement brushed Ewan's sweet spot over and over and he shivered and trembled uncontrollably, his fingers digging into the sand. "I love you." The mental cry echoed in Ewan's mind. Simultaneously, tendrils of joy unwound to reach deep, finding and growing against the pleasure centre in Ewan's brain. He felt Silverfin fill him with wet heat, his cream forced deep inside Ewan's willing body. Each spurt was accompanied by an erotic quiver of the merman's organ and Ewan came a second time before being overwhelmed by physical and mental pleasure. **** A year passed quickly and Ewan's parents, brother, sister and niece were being ferried by Richard to their lagoon for their promised visit. The family was looking forward to seeing Ewan and meeting the man he had taken as husband. Richard had visited them briefly and everyone knew of Silverfin and eagerly anticipated both families finally meeting. As they approached the beach they stared at the water as Silverfin's family emerged, swimming alongside to squeals of delight from Ewan's three-year-old niece. On land, Silverfin's family welcomed Ewan's, the children instantly heading to the water to play. "Our sons have a surprise for you," Notchfin said, pride evident in the mental voice as he addressed Ewan's mother. All eyes turned to the ocean, where Silverfin and Ewan were slowly emerging, a small bundle held as protectively by Ewan as Silverfin held him. Ewan's face lit in an incandescent smile as he saw his land-family intermingling with his ocean-family. As they reached the extended group, Ewan held out the small, wriggling form in his arms to his mother. "This is our son, your grandson, Full Moon," he said. His parents and brother stared at the small, dark-haired miracle, who stared back with equal interest in his dark eyes. "He's still a little unsteady walking, but he swims like a fish. He may only be seven months old, but he's easily as advanced as a twelve to eighteen month land child," Ewan said softly. "I don't care how," Ewan's mother breathed. "I'm just so happy for you. For you both," she added looking at Silverfin. **** Time flew quickly, evening descending in a robe of reds and golds. One family had retired to Richard's home to rest, the other back to their undersea grotto, taking Full Moon with them, leaving Ewan and Silverfin to watch the sky change colour. Ewan nuzzled happily at his mate's warm skin. As the merman turned to look at him, Ewan leant forward to kiss his mate. He hummed happily as Silverfin lowered him to the sand, claiming his mouth in a soul-searing kiss. "I've been thinking, love," Ewan mentally murmured as Silverfin sucked on his tongue. A vague mental query was his lover's only response as Silverfin descended on smooth skin to nurse first one then the other succulent, cinnamon nipple. Ewan panted softly as his arousal steadily grew. "Been thinking," he continued determinedly. "It would be nice to have a child named Sunset." For a moment, Silverfin simply continued with his tasting of Ewan's flavours and textures and then the words registered fully. "You wish to have another child with me?" Joy enveloped Ewan's mind as he heard the mental question, Silverfin moving to blanket the smaller man's body. "Yes," Ewan husked, his body already thrumming as much from their mental connection as from the physical sensations of his lover's hand slowly stroking his engorged flesh. "It will be my delight to make you pregnant again," Silverfin said. The words a low, sexy rasp in Ewan's mind as his mate's mouth closed over his erection and began a slow deliberate suction. "And if I do not succeed this time, I promise to practice diligently at least twice daily until I do." Ewan's only response was a moan of approval. Oceanside The sounds of the waves and the motion of the water seem to have ease that I can not tear away from... The wanting of him near me is like the motions of the water... Nears and then suddenly drifts off into the sunset... Lying in the sand only with thoughts of his warmth from his body surrounding me... I find myself not being able to keep my thoughts off you... The peacefulness of being the only sole person on the beach at this time carries me away into a lost world... I began to imagine that you are here watching my every movement... I began exploring my body as if it is your hands that are touching me... I start by tracing the outline of my face with my fingertips... Then slowly move my hands down my neckline feeling the sensation as I do when you touch me... Working my hands slowly down my body, across my chest then to my breast... Caressing them tenderly... As I gently squeeze them to sense the feeling of them in your mouth sucking on my nipples... My upper body rises from the sand as I began to feel very aroused... The mist of the water begins to excite me even more as the water begins touching the tips of my toes... My hands began to wonder even further down my body... Feeling the wetness between my thighs and wanting you here to feel it as well... As my fingertips explore into the wetness I feel my excitement rising... Wanting to know the sweetness you taste, I bring my fingers to my mouth... Slowly inserting finger by finger and sucking the taste of them... The taste is so sweet... As one finger remains in my mouth the other hand works its way back into the wetness... As I trace the lips around my pussy lips, I imagine feeling your hard cock teasing my swollen clit... Wanting to feel your hardness in me, I slowly insert my finger inside me... The excitement from pleasing myself in this way has me lost beyond belief, not knowing if anyone is watching or if I am still alone on the beach... I cant resist any longer, I began to stroke my finger in and out of my wet pussy... My other hand slides down to my breast, teasing and pinching my nipple... I am so wet, imagining you fucking me on the beach... The wetness feels like satin as I glide my finger in and out... Sliding my finger in deeper... Wanting to feel the intensity as it is when you are fucking me... I feel everything inside me wanting to explode but I try not to let it happen as I do not want it to end... I slow down and slide my finger out of my pussy... Gently rubbing my swollen clit... Roaming my fingers all around in the wetness... My body is shaking from the excitement level that I have reached then I decide that I can not wait any longer to feel the intensity of the climax... Sliding my finger back into my wet pussy I began to slide it in and out again... Inserting another finger as I feel my climax nearing... Deeper I penetrate myself... Faster as I feel warmth surrounding my fingers... My body begins to twitch as I reach climax... The wetness is so great that it begins running onto the sand... Curiously I bring my fingers to my mouth to taste the juices overflowing out of me... The taste is awesome... Licking and sucking every drop of my fingers, as my fingers are soaked in cum... As I am licking the fantastic taste off my fingers I noticed the beach is filled with sounds of people all around me... Not knowing whether anyone was watching me while I was lost in thoughts, I began to sit up and look around... As I since that no one seemed to be paying attention to me, I gather my things and began walking... Suddenly I feel a hand on my shoulder and as I turn around he is standing before me... With a grin he says " I enjoyed watching you so much"... With a soft kiss we walked off the beach... Imagination is a wonderful thing... To those who have it never loose it!! Oceanview John and I have known each other since we were kids at school, where each of us had acquired a kind of hero status amongst our classmates for jacking off during French. For our checkered history of misdemeanors, we had long been banned from sitting together. The principal had seated us at desks on opposite sides of the classroom. We took fiendish delight in embarrassing our teacher, the cute and voluptuous Mlle. Lecocq, by pulling down hard on our exposed and raging erections, then letting them spring back up against the plywood bottom of our desks with a succession of resounding thwumps! and thwacks! From the depth of her scarlet flushes, it became evident that the young Mme. Lecocq must finally have guessed as to the type of percussive instruments being used to create the disturbance, and also, from our glazed expressions, those responsible for its emanation. Addressing me directly with only the hint of a smile, she had carried on regardless, "Mark n'est pas tres intelligent." Thirty years later, John and I were sitting on our perches at the cocktail bar, chatting idly over our drinks for long enough to loosen up. Engaged in animated girl talk, Fay and Ann were comfortably out of earshot at a nearby table when Ann, my wife, glanced up from her martini to catch John's ever roving eye. He was openly appraising her credentials in open-mouthed approval. She was used to this, and acknowledged his admiration with an "eat your heart out baby" smile. Provocatively, she puckered her lips to shape a wisp of a kiss that had both John and I plunging our hands into our pockets! Ann stands a leggy 5ft 7", marginally taller than me. At forty-five, the arrogant thrust of her proud bare breasts accented by pert, pink nipples that are always erect, are two reasons why she's such fun to shower with. Her eyes are as warm and soft as her close quicksilver hairstyle that sparkles with vitality. There is about her a slight air of sexual modesty and shyness to set a man's loins afire. Fay by contrast at 5ft 2", is a petite green-eyed, strawberry blonde blessed with a magnificent DD bust and all the sexual assurance that such assets confer upon a woman. Her hair is long and she wears it loosely drawn up into a scroll on top. Her perfect legs excite speculation as to the ecstasy that might be found between them when they are locked around your neck. Without ever having crossed the normal borders of conventional morality, we have shared many flirtatious evenings together and, on one such occasion after several drinks, Fay confided in front of us all that the first time she saw what John held in store for her, she cried, "My god! You're not putting that thing in me!" Thereafter Ann would sometimes pay him tribute and refer to him deferentially as, 'Big Bad John'. The girls would laugh and giggle and wiggle their tits at him, and we would all get horny, especially Ann. The floor level indicator light rose at an alarming rate until it reached the top. A minute later we stepped out into at the hotel's heliport lounge in time to watch through the observation window the touch down of a Bell6 Dragonfly, and a stunning view of Sydney. "Good bloody god mate, some fucking party, where the hell is it, Canberra?" I yelled against the high-pitched engine of the Bell. "Don't worry about it now, you can figure it later after you've met and been initiated into the group ... as I said mate, it's a private party," John explained with a sly grin. All my notions as to what the word "initiation" could imply raised my levels yet again, as we scurried towards the chopper. * * * * * * * The pilot stepped out onto the pad and beckoned us to board. From beneath her metallic blue helmet to match the Bell, a mass of fiery red hair cascaded over her bare shoulders. She wore a strapless, black leather bra top above matching skintight pants. "Hi John, Hi Fay," she yelled above the noise of the idling Bell, "wonderful to have you join us once again, please introduce me." She directed an appraising smile towards Ann and me. "Hi' ya Nerilie, you sexy bitch, meet Mark and Ann," said John, lecherously ogling her small but outrageously protruding breasts. Oh my god, I thought, as I mentally stripped her - it didn't take a lot of imagination. Even Ann didn't hide her admiration as she returned her smile. I had a raging boner and it showed. The Dragonfly seats five passengers in all, one beside the pilot and four in two rows behind. John eagerly helped Ann into one of the two rearmost seats before climbing in beside her. Fay gave me a tantalizing glimpse of bare thigh as she raised her leg to step aboard. I swung in beside her and was about to close the hatch when a voice that I recognized as belonging to the Opal receptionist came over the radio. "Alpha November 69, hold position for your other passenger." Nerilie lifted the mike to her sensuous lips. "Alpha November 69 to Opal Base...holding." A minute or two later a tall, dark figure stepped onto the pad and strode towards the waiting Bell. "Well Ann, looky who it is! ... Now aren't you the lucky one," Fay giggled as the lead drummer in whom Ann had been so interested in 'down below', swung his lean bulk into the vacant front seat beside Nerilie. If Ann flushed, then she kept it to herself and gave nothing away as to indicate her thoughts or feelings. Nerilie greeted him with a smoldering sidelong glance, "Hi Milton, I thought you had deserted me." "Hey dudes, thanks for waiting." Milton said, in a Deep Southern accent, "Boss man raised all hell until Big Daddy agreed to sit in for me, great guy." After a few minutes of belting up and awaiting clearance from Mascot Tower, the Bell lifted with a roar into the midnight blue of the Sydney sky. Nerilie spoke into the cabin microphone, "Welcome aboard folks, tonight after we land I will be your party hostess so please sit back, relax, and enjoy yourselves." The microphone clicked off and the cabin lights went out. Reflected in the Plexiglas, I caught a glimpse of John and Ann leaning into each other, "Oh my god John! Do you have a license to carry this weapon?" "Come here you hot slut", John whispered above Ann's smothered giggles, and a rustling of her skirt. Silence for a bit and then, "Hmm ...Ooh...Oh yes John ... yes, just there! Oooh!" Somehow it made me even hornier to hear my wife getting hot to another man's touch. The Bell banked steeply affording us a breathtaking view of the city lights a few hundred feet below. Luna Park, the Sydney Harbour Bridge, the floodlit sails of the Sydney Opera House. And out of Circular Quay a stream of ferries etched their wakes on the harbor between Manly, Mosman, and Taronga Park. Obviously, we were heading southeast towards the coast. Fay leaned into me as I put my arm around her. "Coo" she mimed, laying on her cockney accent, "isn't it just luverly!" She gave a wicked giggle as her hand clasped firmly around my throbbing cock! I groaned as I began fondling her through the sheer black magic of her dress. She unzipped my pants and kept squeezing my cock, whilst at the same time lightly stroking her thumb over my corona. She soon had it weeping tears of sheer joy. I lifted her skirt above her knees as she eagerly spread her legs as wide as the engineers that had designed this sky bubble had not allowed for. My fingertips traced the soft inner whiteness of her thighs until they reached the hot wet lips of her pantie-less pussy. I began caressing and tormenting her as I circled my finger around the hood of her engorged clitoris. She squeezed my cock tighter sending a wave of lust through my loins and legs, which spread like fire to the tips of my toes. Like nimble fencers, we feinted and parried each other's lust. I thrust my fingers deeply into her hot wet cunt, curving them to caress her G spot. She arched in her seat and moaned, "Ooh, yes luvee, Fuck me! Fuck me with your fingers!" None of what was going on behind him had been lost on Milton, one very sexy man. We couldn't see what his long velvet fingers were doing to Nerilie, but it didn't take much imagination. Their sidelong glances were easily readable by the luminous glow of the instruments spread before them - their bodies were on the same frequency continuously signaling each other like the Bell's transponder with Air Traffic Control. Nerilie protested weakly, "Behave yourself Milton ... later!" then miming his accent, "How in hell do you expect me to 'flar this godam thang'!" A few minutes later Nerilie's cabin microphone broke the spell, "Sorry to disturb you folks. Please fasten your seat belts. We will be landing in about five minutes," Click. I had lost all sense of time and had no idea as to where we were or how far we might have flown. The bright warm orb of a harvest moon rose out of the sea to port, and ahead a curving line of unbroken surf stretched before us down the coast of New South Wales. Flying at only a few hundred feet we watched in wonder the glowing patterns of phosphorous on wet sand as rollers spent their foam upon a virgin beach. Nerilie adjusted the rotor's pitch as we began descending towards the finger of a high bluff that pointed into the Pacific. Above it, the glittering pendant of the Southern Cross was suspended in the clear night sky. A minute later we were circling an austere sandstone mansion that stood above the cliffs as a sentinel faces the sea. Nerilie set us down softly beside two other parked helicopters, some fifty yards from the house on a large lawn that from above we could see was just a small part of its grounds. The rotors flickered to a stop, then opening the hatch Nerilie sprang to the lawn as nimbly as a cat. Removing her helmet she shook her hair free with a toss of her head, "Welcome to "Oceanview," folks," she said, as we all climbed out and stretched our legs. "And now, if you are all hot to trot, let's go party shall we!" she grinned. * * * * * * * In the levity given of the moment we laughed as Nerilie and Milton led us towards the house. Milton had his arm around her shoulders, pulling her slightly off balance and playfully teasing and groping her as they walked. She giggled and pretended to reject him with slaps and punches to his arm and chest, to which he reacted as a stallion under whip. John and Fay had their arms about each other as they walked ahead of us. Occasionally they would give each other a playful slap on the butt, followed by peals of laughter. They teased each other with innuendo about the previous party, "I hope you aren't planning on spending all your savings on that blue-eyed, blonde guy again tonight, honey - I think Mark wants to make a big deposit to your money box," John taunted. Fay flashed back, "Oh shut up! After the way you blew your bundle last week on that red-hot Italian slut who almost killed you, you'll be lucky if you can keep it up for Ann tonight!" Ann and I walked tightly arm in arm sensing each other's mix of high level excitement and nervous apprehension. Perhaps our body language spoke of the pact we had made, to experience together, or separately, whatever might await us within the looming sandstone walls of "Oceanview". "Are you still OK with this?" I said, with some concern. She threw me a slow smile. "Just a touch of stage fright darling, I'll be fine ... besides, I've passed the Rubicon." "Rubicon?" I queried. "A point of no return, darling," she said. Then sliding her hand deep into my hip pocket she reached down to my aching shaft, "Hmm ...and looks like you've passed it too I'd say my love. Whatever has Fay done to make it so big and hard?" she teased. "Nothing that John hasn't done to yours I'd guess, ... you "hot slut," I quoted him. She just wiggled her tits at me and smiled as she glanced up at the canopy of stars, and at all the nocturnal beauty that surrounded us. Strolling by moonlit roses and beds of frangipani, we drew nearer the double story Georgian mansion. A huge magnolia bedecked in lustrous creamy blooms laid an intoxicating fragrance upon the summer night. Soft, warm light shone from tall, paned windows surrounding its central portico. Nerilie flashed a signal from a gadget and the large oak door swung open, and closed behind us, as we entered the richly paneled entrance hall. On either side of the hall stood a Greek god carved from marble. Two stuffed peacocks, perched on pedestals, welcomed us - to symbolize male vanity, I mused. There are few sexier sounds than the imperious clicking on parquets of 3 pairs of stilettos. The girls had announced our arrival as dramatically as a drum roll. Nerilie led us through the archway, into a large reception area, to join a group of trendily dressed couples sipping cocktails. Amid their cheers we entered. "Hey Wonder Woman, Welcome back!" "Hi Fay, we've missed you!" "Hi there, Big John! Hi ya Milton! ... And I've missed you both!" cooed a cute little blue-eyed blonde. Her ponytail was tied with a bow of scarlet ribbon, in the artful way of a woman. A topless waitress, with a heart-shaped face and comely smile, presented me with a tray of assorted cocktails. Her straight chestnut hair was parted in the middle and fell naturally over her shoulders, and half way down her back. My eyes feasted upon the arresting thrust of her breasts, which made choosing a drink dead easy. With my eyeballs glued to her hard dark nipples I just groped for a glass and swilled it ...for all I knew it might well have been straight hemlock. "Hello" I said, "I love your hair," I grinned. "I'm so pleased that you've finally noticed it." She answered with a laugh. "What's your name?" I asked? "Gale," she replied. "Hi Gale, nice to meet you. I hope I'll see more of you tonight," I said. "Oh you will," she whispered, "I am always at your service Sir," she winked with a parting smile, and tossing her head she turned on her heels and wiggled her cheeky bare ass away. Once we had refreshed ourselves, Nerilie walked over to us. "I'm not sure if Fay and John have mentioned it, but it is our custom to welcome new playmates to our group with an initiation. I think you will both find it erotic and exciting." "Well yes, John did mention it, but gave no details. I must say it sounds intriguing, I'm literally itching with curiosity", I said. The remark wasn't lost on Nerilie as she lowered her gaze to the bulge in my trousers, "Well your itching curiosity is about to be scratched, sweetie," she smiled provocatively. With a touch of modest shyness Ann added, "Well then, will you tell us when this is to take place and just what will be expected of me, ... us?" If you will both follow me, all will be revealed," she whispered confidentially. Nerilie led us up the marble staircase. On reaching the top, she led us through a gallery of gilded artworks then ushered us into a large, softly lit dressing room. It was a room perhaps fifteen feet wide by thirty feet long, at the end of which a large semi-circular window overlooked the sea. Within its radius stood an ingenious, floor to ceiling, transparent shower cylinder. Potted palms surrounded it - a very friendly place to meet, I thought. Along one wall was a long, make up bench and a row of black leather swivel chairs. A wide archway, shaped and colored like a rainbow, led into a walk-in wardrobe of erotic costumes, cup-less bras, G's and crotchless panties, exotic jewelry, sexy shoes, toys of all description, and personal lockers. In the privacy of these intimate surroundings, Nerilie gave Ann a 'come-ons' look as she moved closer to her and began lightly circling her nipples with her fingertips. Under Nerilie's touch, Ann's arousal became tangibly evident. Her breasts and nipples had visibly swollen and hardened beneath the fabric of her dress, the more exciting because no woman had ever done so, or made her feel so hot before. Her flush had spread from her face and neck to her bare shoulders. Holding Ann's gaze, Nerilie spoke huskily to me, "Undress me Mark." Her quiet command fueled my already raging fire. I stepped behind Nerilie to unhook her bra. Ann could see how much I was turned on by Nerilie, as I let it fall to the floor. Nerilie kicked off her stilettos as I began unzipping and peeling her tight leather pants down over her firm white ass, to the parquets. Ann could contain her lust no longer and began to caress herself shamelessly through her dress. Nerilie now stood naked before us with her legs parted, her glistening juices slickening the insides of her thighs. Ann's eyes glazed over with wanton lust, her lids half-closed in ecstasy as Nerilie continued her teasing. And then, in a voice above a whisper, "Ann, I want you to shower with me honey while I tell you about your initiation and what will be expected of you, OK?" Ann nodded as Nerilie's arms reached around to hold her hips firmly against her own, before unfastening the zip to her backless dress. Lightly as a caress, she lifted the halter neck over her head and tossed it to me. Ann's unrestrained breasts, with their ever-ready nipples, hung firm and free and almost on top of Nerilie's. Ann, in heels and stockings and filmy panties, now stood quivering in rapturous heat, but a breath away from Nerilie. Stepping out of her heels, she raised her fingers to Nerilie's shoulders to trace a slow devious path to her playmate's breasts and nipples. Both women kissed and embraced in a wave of mutual lust. With a slight toss of her head, Nerilie swirled her long red hair over Ann's engorged breasts before kneeling to pull down her wet and sticky lace panties and peel away her stockings. Tossing them into a basket, she smiled. "I don't think you'll be needing these honey." Ann now stood nude, her legs slightly parted, exposing her hot shaved cunt and the juices flowing from it. Glancing at me, she smiled at my bulging pants and tweaked her nipples at me, which only made me harder. She turned imploringly to Nerilie. But Nerilie only rose and said with a promising smile, "Now, let's shower sweetie and we'll all have fun while I show and tell you all that you wish to know." I was still awkwardly holding Ann's dress in one hand and stroking myself through my pants with the other. Nerilie turned to me, "Just put it in a locker Mark, then get your gear off. Drag up a stool and you can play with yourself if you like, as you watch us shower." She flaunted and teased me by caressing herself wantonly with her long, manicured fingers. I groaned. I couldn't get my gear off quickly enough; it would be sheer relief to let the tiger loose. I stuffed our clothes into a locker and drew up a stool close to the transparent shower tube. My throbbing erection aimed itself at the ceiling like a long-range nuclear missile ... it felt like it had enough fucking power to reach China! Nerilie and Ann, their arms around each other, teased me through the sound proof polycarbonate. Sitting on the stool so close, watching them gel and play with each other, made me so horny that I could scarcely control myself. They caressed and flaunted their sex at me, sliding their fingers into themselves and teasing each other's cunts - I held my bursting balls in one hand and waved the big stick with the other. Then, with hands over their mouths in mock horror, they looked at each other and shook their heads in mock disapproval. Nerilie got down and dirty between Ann's knees. Looking up at her through the warm water cascading over her face, she slowly parted Ann's waiting lips. Then holding her eyes with her own, she lightly flicked her tongue at Ann's swollen, inflamed clitoris. Ann's head threw back, her mouth opened in rapturous ecstasy to the steaming jets of water, as Nerilie fanned the flames that were consuming all her sense of modesty or reason. She looked like a whore as she pulled Nerilie's head to her streaming cunt. Nerilie's tongue dove deeper, and deeper, into her burning hole as she increased the thrusting, into Ann's vagina. Nerilie sucked hard on Ann's clit and ate her, as the tip of her swirling tongue swept over the hard, red nub. Oceanview Knowing Ann as intimately as I do, I watched her whole body stiffen as her orgasm rose like an ocean wave. It swept her forward with a mighty rush, before her senses crashed in a sea of roaring foam and swirling perceptions. Her eyes closed and her head thrust back, as Nerilie finished her off with an unrelenting tongue. Ann's come squirted into Nerilie's waiting mouth. I could see but not hear her soundless caterwaul as she raised her hands to cup her breasts. I pleasured my cock flagrantly in front of these two women. I was no longer seeing Ann as my wife, but only as the luscious slut that she had just become. Nerilie, still kneeling, was watching me masturbate, she bade me join them. Hardly had I closed the shower door behind me before Nerilie had my cock in her mouth, torturing me with its rapier tip. Palming my balls, with an extended finger pressing into my anus, she sucked with her full red lips, taking me deeper, and deeper - completely swallowing my pride. Tormented into mindless oblivion, she was driving me perilously close to the edge. "Oh no you don't honey, not just yet," she said, as she cruelly withdrew her mouth. Ann was masturbating herself as she watched us. Nerilie turned to Ann and drove her tongue into Ann's hot cunt, lashing at her swollen clit. Ann moaned ... through glazed eyes and half-closed lids, she watched my hand slide up and down on my dick, like the piston of a steam train, as Nerilie's tongue pushed her towards another climax. Nerilie rose to cup and caress Ann's breasts, "Oh Mark, I want you in me NOW! Please FUCK me!" she shouted. I stood behind Nerilie and placed my hands on her smooth, transparent hips and slowly slid my shaft between her slickened thighs. Ann reached between Nerilie's legs and guided my swollen shaft into Nerilie's tight cunt, to stoke and quench her need. "Oh yes honey, FUCK me you bastard, Fuck me!" she screamed. "Fuck me, Fuck me, Fuck me!" I raised my hands to claim those wicked tits that had taunted me so mercilessly all night, so warm, so smooth, so firm to touch. Holding her firmly by the hips, I thrust into her deeply with long, slow strokes, withdrawing my knob to her swollen labia, and sliding the tip over her fully distended clitoris. Ann sucked and licked at us both, gobbling up our juices. Nerilie ground her smooth, tight ass against my belly and moaned as her muscles contracted violently around my shaft, "Oh Yes! Yes! Fuck me Mark, Fuck me... harder...give it to me now...let me have it baby, NOW!" It was all I needed to hear. I felt my balls catch fire as the warm, thick wad of sperm surged down my shaft into Nerilie's milking membrane. We both wailed loudly as I pounded her in a final series of long, deep thrusts - flooding her with my come, as Ann continued fellating us into a knee trembling orgasm. The hot jets rained upon our afterglow. We douched each other playfully sending streams of water cascading down the walls. We fondled and caressed some more before stepping out of the cylinder to towel each other off. Nerilie handed us robes and led us through the archway into the dressing room. "Our playmates will be getting ready for the ceremony. We will join them in the ballroom at the stroke of twelve - goodness, look at the time already!" Nerilie sorted through a rack of "male attire" until she seemed satisfied with her choice, "Hmm, I think this should fit you very nicely Mark. Get it on whilst I attend to Ann. When you've dressed, you may join the party in the ballroom." She nodded towards an exit, as she handed me the hanger. "Good god!" I said, "I'm to wear this?" "Nerilie just smiled at me, "Uh huh, we call it a Fuxedo...cutie bubs, huh!" she giggled!" I hardly recognized the figure in the mirror that stood there looking back at me. Oh it was me all right, but WOW, I was wearing a hip hugging black leather V-belt with a gaping hole at the crotch. My cock and balls hung out obscenely, like a dildo mounted in a picture frame. Once I had recovered from the initial shock, I began to like it. It made me feel so horny that I could have fucked the wheels off a shopping cart. Having straightened the black bow tie around my neck, I made my way bare footed to the exit door. It opened to my touch and closed without a sound behind me. * * * * * * * After the lightness of the dressing room, I found myself in almost total darkness. As my eyes adjusted to the gloom I heard music and saw a glimmer of light between two rich drapes. I drew them aside and stepped onto a strip of crimson carpet, in the center of a spacious ballroom. An avenue of burning braziers lighted it. Moonlight filtered through the tall French windows. Double doors in the center led onto a terrace that overlooked the ocean, and from where I stood, a shimmering path of moonlight lay reflected on the sea. "Oceanview" - how apt, I thought. The runner led my eye directly to a circular dais, perhaps some twenty paces away. And spaced around its circumference, facing inwards to this elevated platform, sat seven groomsmen wearing Fuxedos, much the same as mine. A number of soft divans, of various shapes and sizes, furnished the open room and on the wall two large, gilt-framed Norman Lindsay paintings made an unmistakable statement as to the type of function that was held in this erotic setting. Beneath these works, a three-piece band provided music. An attractive, near naked woman played a grand piano. A tall, dark, bare-chested guy in snakeskin pants, played an alto sax and a wild looking tattooed guy, wearing an Akubra and moleskins, was on drums. A crystal spectrum icon on the microphone named them as, The Rainbow Trio. To the earthy rhythms of the Rainbows, I strolled towards the groomsmen who welcomed me to the enclave. The first I recognized was a sartorially resplendent Milton, bedecked in a black Fux jacket, his wicked looking prong protruded from a scarlet V belt. Milton flashed me a wide grin. I said, "Hi." Opposite him, John greeted me with a mile wide smile; like the rest of us, his "big bad John" dangled obscenely, like a pound of Belgian sausage, from his violet V belt. I had to comment, "God man, you're in great shape tonight, I can now see what Ann meant when I overheard her asking if you had a license to carry that weapon!" "Of course," John said, "I'm number seven...007 with a license to thrill." His answer drew a roar of laughter from the guys. Only later did I appreciate the ingenuity of his wit when I learnt that the order in which the men were seated around the pad was clockwise, according to their initiation date. I would also learn the significance of the different colored V belts the men were wearing. They represented the seven colors of the rainbow. So that whenever a new playmate couple joined the group, the first color in the spectrum, the 'red couple', would leave the group, and at the next event, the couples would then move up one color. The plush carpet formed an aisle between the dais and the groomsmen, who each sat on a chaise longue spaced around the edge of it. Interspersed between them, potted palm arrangements broke the symmetry and created an atmosphere of elegance and intimacy. On closer inspection, the dais proved to be an upholstered, black leather pad, thigh high with steps at twelve and six o'clock. Colored cushions in rainbow colors were scattered randomly on the pad and suspended a few feet above the center, hung the slowly rotating harness of a pleasure swing. Forming a quadrant around the pad, sculptured marble goddesses, "The Four Seasons", stood upon their pedestals. Each held above her head a torch from which livid tongues of flame leapt like dancing devils, casting flickering firelight over those below. John had sensed my awkwardness as I stood there at the opening to the circle, not knowing quite where I should be or what I should be doing, "Relax man, just hang loose and stay cool until the girls arrive," he reassured. No sooner had he said so than from somewhere in background the chiming of a clock announced the midnight hour. The band changed mood and tempo, and broke into a raunchy arrangement of the St Louis Blues. At the rear of the ballroom, from where I had entered it, the heavy drapes swung back. My senses reeled. I had never seen anything so matchlessly erotic as the bevy of bridal beauties that had begun to bump and grind its way down the crimson strip towards us. Ann! She took my breath away and my cock hardened and rose in a heartbeat at the sight of her transformation. She was wearing a cream satin skirt, split in the front from the waist with its long train held by three bridesmaids either side. Her long gloves were of gold satin and she held in her hands a bouquet of fresh red roses and magnolia blooms. Each skirt-parting step of her scarlet stilettos betrayed her wet arousal and brought her one step closer to the consummation of the sharing that this night would bring. I might not have recognized her at some distance as her veil diffused her features. Unrestrained in their eager pride, there was no mistaking her wonderful breasts and hard, dark nipples. Strips of red satin ribbon framed them as they bounced and danced to a rhythm of their own. Around her neck, a lustrous long string of fashion pearls swung wildly over and between her cleavage as she strutted he butt between the blazing braziers. From behind me, the men responded to the advancing troupe with a chorus of primal groans and cheers, mine among them. Nerilie, at her side, wore a glittering necklace of emeralds and diamonds, and nothing else but long black gloves, a scarlet thong, and black stilettos - as they strutted their hot flesh down the aisle towards us, she came as close to upstaging the bride as a woman can get. The bridesmaids were also topless, their nipples made up to compliment their individual style and eye make-up. They wore long black gloves to match their stilettos, and a colored thong in accordance to their place in the spectrum. Scarlet lips smiled seductively at me from beneath a wide brimmed hat that hid the wearer's eyes, adding an extra inch every wichway to my raging cock. In spite of her outrageously slutty getup, it suddenly dawned upon me who it was in the violet thong - it was Fay! Nerilie led the bridesmaids into the aisle to join their partners, leaving Ann and me standing side by side at the entrance to circle. Nerilie stood to one side of us like a celebrant, and after the group had settled she began, "Playmates, we are gathered here to welcome Ann and Mark to the Initiation of our group." All the guys were fully erect, their dew tipped dicks glistened and flexed beneath the flickering torchlight, the women were aroused and ready for them. Of those hidden from us by the pad, there could be no doubt - their lust-torn faces said it all. The girls' breasts and nipples were erect and flushed in anticipation of the erotic ceremony in which we were all about to participate, as brothers, as sisters in law, in lust. Nerilie continued, "Ann and Mark are about to "Walk the Rainbow", so gentlemen, you will now receive your wedding rings. Ann and Mark will stop by each of you to meet and introduce themselves, for just seven minutes. The band keeps time. They will move on through the spectrum until they reach the Rainbow's end. Thank you, let us begin." Nerilie turned to Ann, "Let me take these. Your hands will be full enough without them!" She smiled as she took Ann's flowers, placing them by the pad. Ann and the women opened their satin purses and each withdrew a ring, not your normal wedding ring with which we're all familiar, but a larger, thicker one of colored silicone resembling a thick, fat doughnut, some two inches thick. Ann dropped to her knees before me. As one about to perform a difficult task, she held the tip of her tongue between her teeth and tilted her head sideways. She tried to slip it on my cock like a quoit, but it wouldn't quite fit. Unfazed, and wearing an amused smile, she thrust it between her legs and smeared it with her juices, and just to make sure that my cock was plenty wet, she took my whole length in her mouth and sucked as she looked up at me submissively. I groaned. A few seconds more and I would have blown it. Sensing it, she hastily withdrew, "Hmm, I think there's one or two other ladies who are waiting for your precious cream, so for now, I shall let you keep it my love!" She laughed. She slid the ring slowly up and down a few times before pressing it firmly against my balls, "The girls call these things plunge busters! Neat trick, huh?" she laughed. "Mean!" I said, as she rose. Nerilie took her seat by Milton and at her nod the band began playing Candy. Ann slanted me her sexy smile, "OK... Looks like we're on, so are you ready to share me with all these studs and watch them fuck my brains out?" she said, quietly and provocatively. "When you are, yes...so long as you don't mind watching me make out with these wild honey sluts?" I said. Ann just gave a consenting smile, "Let's go." Her iridescent make up was so seductive and delicious that I had to kiss her. I lifted her veil and pulled it back. "Now it won't get in the way." I teased, as we both stepped into the Rainbow. We entered the aisle to the left and presented our sex to Milton and Nerilie. Milton's solid black shaft was as hard as rock. With its big red ring encircling the root it looked like the devil's spinning-top, and it was. He sat with his knees wide apart in an open invitation that Ann could not resist. Standing before him, flaunting her sex in Milton's face, Ann looped her pearls under his sack and drew them slowly, back and forth, her eyes locked on to his. She twirled a few loops over his knob and began to tease, and tease some more as she wiggled her tits at him. Wild with lust, his eyes begged her to go down on him. Dropping to her knees between his legs, she gave him some more pearl torture as she palmed and began caressing his big black billiard balls. Looking up at him with feigned innocence, Ann's red lips parted showing her fine white teeth. Her eyelids were painted pale blue-violet over mascara lashes, and the thrust of her beribboned breasts taunted him terribly. Milton had met her gaze in a test of power, and lost. A good eight inches of Milton's spectacular prong stuck out through the red ring. He was thick and strong and even in spite of her high level of readiness, Ann had never seen anything like it ever before, ...except perhaps Big John's. With her free hand Ann took hold of his member and slid her thumb over the head to spread his copious pre cum. His pupils dilated, his eyelids flickered as he succumbed to the sensations that tore through his ebony body like a twister through a cornfield. Ann's eyes held triumph as her lips closed over him, and the tip of her tongue wrought havoc with his senses. I moved forward to watch her hands and lips at work on him. Milton groaned as he held her head between his big black hands, to guide it as she slaked him. My pre cum was dripping on the carpet. Nerilie, sitting beside him, took hold of my cock and pulled me into her mouth. For the second time that night I felt the lash of her tongue as it flayed my wayward Willie, and I groaned. Milton was on the edge as Ann rose from her knees and Nerilie aware of her need withdrew from me. She lifted the train of Ann's satin skirt over Milton's legs as she turned to lower herself backwards on his massive cock and guide it into her weeping hole. Ann lowered herself slowly onto Milton's member. Nerilie ran her forefinger around Ann's hood, which made her squirt and compelled her to lower and impale herself on Milton's unyielding stake to sate her aching lust that throughout the night had been gathering like a storm. As he slowly filled her, she closed her eyes and a long, low moan escaped her. Milton held Ann firmly by the hips as she used her legs to ride him like a broncobuster. He bucked and twisted in her. Her head threw back, her legs spread wide, and her tits bounced up and down crazily from side to side. Milton's eyes were glazed. His body arched as tentacles of his thick warm sperm shot deep into her cunt. Above the music, Ann's long caterwaul echoed through the ballroom and all around us other couples moaned and masturbated themselves and each other, at the sight. Pounding out a primal beat, the drummer raised the tempo as we moved on to the Orange playmates. My cock was still raging after watching Ann with Milton. I found myself looking into the taunting green eyes of a mature, quicksilver blonde. Her partner was the blue-eyed German. She held in her hand a lime green, silicone vibrator. She sat with her shapely legs outstretched, shamelessly spread to expose her wet, pink pussy lips, swollen and inviting. Arresting my eyes, she parted her thong and slid the vibrator's rotating head slowly into her creamy slit. "I'm Jane," she moaned. I was so turned on by this that I couldn't speak, I just stood close to her in the Y of her open legs, my throbbing cock stood outrageously swollen and erect. Her scent was driving me insane. The tip of her tongue pressed hard against the sharp edge of her upper teeth. She held my gaze through half closed lids. In the flickering firelight her full red lips promised passion, no trace of a smile as she began fucking herself into frenzy with the vibe. With her free hand, she reached for my wet cock and began squeezing and jacking me. Her breasts, framed by a cupless, chartreuse halter, excited the hell out of me. "I want you in me now," she said huskily. It wasn't a request, but a demand. She dropped the vibe as I lifted her bodily from the seat. She had wrapped her legs around my waist, digging her heels into my butt. I lowered her onto my throbbing prong. Her hands were locked behind my neck, and mine were clasped beneath her small, tight ass. Impaled upon my sword, she leant backwards, away from me, mocking me with her eyes. The sight of her hard, dark nipples and firm, white tits bouncing up and down before my eyes, blew my senses into oblivion. I pulled her roughly to me and our mouths clashed in a ferocious kiss. She bit me on the lip and I tasted blood. "You bitch!" I snarled, as a wave of uncontrollable lust swept over me, and turned me into nothing but a wild and senseless fucking machine. Without withdrawing, I carried her in tandem to the pad and fell on top of her. To the drumbeat I began to pound her pagan pussy with my broadsword. "Yes!" she hissed, "... that's right baby, give it to me...give me all you can you sexy stud... just keep FUCKING ME!" as she bucked and raised her hips to meet my thrusts. I felt her orgasm rising as her kegel muscles contracted around my shaft. I drove in hard against the ring...Oh how I ached to just rip it off and ride her bareback to the finish post! Her squirming climax was loud and rousing, but incomplete. She pushed her hand against my shoulder and rolled on top of me. We were close to the edge of the pad and Ann, standing on the carpet, leant forward to loop her long string of luster pearls beneath Jane's breasts, rolling them upwards over her nipples. But Ann's were also being cupped and titillated by the tall, blue-eyed German guy with whom she had been flirting in the atrium on arrival. He nipped her on her neck and shoulders from behind, sending a fresh rush of color to her full, ripe breasts. Ann looked down at me over Jane's bare shoulders, and I returned her look of wanton abandonment as the rampant vixen rode me to the edge of bliss - just as the music stopped! We moved on to the other Colors, each in turn, and the more we 'mixed' the more we wanted. Our yet all erotic and sensational. Ann's coupling with a handsome German partner, Kurt, was particularly beautiful and arousing. He brought her to orgasm twice, within their seven minutes. Oceanview The petite, chestnut brunette, Gale, almost pushed me over the edge twice during our 'introduction'. Her particular talents had been entirely wasted in serving drinks downstairs, but I later learnt that at each initiation, the duties of serving food and drink belonged to spectrum Green. At the Rainbow's end, Fay and John were pleasuring themselves as we approached, which sent my libido into overdrive. The sexual tensions that had developed between us over the years were finally to be released. All past moments of secret yearnings were now laid bare as we openly savored the sight of each other's nudity. As we reached them, Fay and John stood up and we each took the other's partner in a passionate embrace. Fay soon had her hand around my cock, squeezing and teasing. I slid three fingers between her legs and into her cunt. She moved her feet slightly wider apart, inviting my fingers to explore more deeply as she pressed her hard breasts into my chest. The neurons were flying between receptors in my brain, or whatever little remained of it. Our tongues had found each other, tentatively at first, and then got nasty as they sought responses. John was already on the pad with Ann between his knees. She looked up at him as she held his ringed monster with both hands, like a virgin holding a candle at an altar. Then lowering her head, as if in prayer, she took him into her mouth and began to sip at the chalice that overfloweth with the nectar of life. Fay led me to the edge of the pad and sat facing me, her shapely legs crossed in a mockery of modesty as she smiled seduction. She still wore her wide brimmed hat and long cream satin gloves. She leaned back on her arms and surveyed my vertical erection and bulging balls, then slowly and brazenly uncrossed her legs. Like an Arab at an oasis I knelt to drink of its life giving fluid, the road to Mecca lay open and inviting. Her musk fragrance refreshed and excited me as I drank of her juices. "Ooh! Ooooh! Now Luvee, Now!" Fay moaned. Beside us a few feet away, Ann had straddled John; with outstretched arms on his shoulders, she was lowering herself onto his huge, raw meat. Her long legs spread the split front of her skirt wide and the satin train spilled over John's legs behind her. Ann gasped loudly as the head of his huge prick slowly disappeared into her dripping hole. Fay's thong fell away as I pulled undone the bow at her hip. Her colors excited me - frosty green eye-makeup over full scarlet lips. At her neck, the wide silver collar with the large emerald stone, flashed green fire above the smooth, white valley of her breasts. "Oh baby - how long have I longed to have you like this," I murmured. Tilting her head to one side she returned my reckless look and removed her hat. Freed from its scroll, her long, blonde hair spilled over her shoulders, somehow emphasising her nakedness. "Your wait is over - just shut up and fuck me silly, honey." I pushed her gently back onto the pad, spreading her legs with my knees. Straddling him, Ann hunched forward like a jockey to allow John to suck and nibble at her tits as he bucked and fucked her. Her moans of delight added to our excitement as she rode on his big bad John. "Oooh John! You are sooo big!" she moaned. Fay turned her head to watch. I felt the rush of heat to her cunt as she responded to the sight of Ann astride her man. Ann sat upright for the full penetration that his ring would allow. Her shapely tits bounced to his rhythm as he thrust and reamed inside her. As his pace quickened, Ann and I were aware of each other's lust in fucking someone else, just as they were. We each turned our heads to watch our partners fucking our best friend. The girls' moans grew louder as they climaxed in synch - John and I both lost control, shooting our wads into the insatiable cunts of each other's wife, just as the music died! Nerilie adjusted the band's microphone, "Playmates, I now take pleasure in congratulating Ann and Mark, and welcoming them as new members of the spectrum. As you know, by our rules, Milton and I must retire from the group as from tonight. And next week it will be our turn to be initiated, somewhere over another Rainbow. * * * * * * * The group had freshened up and was gathered on the balcony drinking champas when Kurt arrived, pushing a trolley load of hot refreshments. The view from the balcony was breathtaking. The moon still lent the night its beauty and far to the south the tireless beacon of a lighthouse swept the sea. Beneath the balcony was a lit spa pool in which an inlaid image of Chloe lay imbedded upon its tiled, terrazzo floor. The heady scent of fresh makeup and Magnolias hung upon the summer night as couples mingled and engaged. Gale was standing by the parapet. Her perfect breasts, softly lit by moonlight had kept me aroused and wanting more of her. My pulsating erection stood pointing at the stars and my balls were big and full again. She flashed a seductive smile at me and I joined her. Gale's smiling eyes dropped to my eager cock. "Hmm, I see you're up and ready for more, honey," she teased. "I will always be ready for more of you, baby," I grinned. "Oh sure, you'd say that to any of the girls. I bet you'd fuck me right here and now on the balcony, ‘IF' I'd let you." she teased. "Hmm, that cream oozing out your pussy tells me that you wouldn't hold out too long," I smirked. "Take a look at yourself - in the state you're in, you're anybody's," she concluded. In a smart mouth contest between a man and woman, the woman always has the final word. The band broke the rapport into which Gale and I had quickly fallen. The first shrill notes from the alto sax seared across the ballroom, bringing into focus the other playmates. As the Rainbow Trio began playing a hip swinging arrangement of St Louis Blues, a full two hours had passed since the "Initiation" that had made Ann and me the newest playmates in the group. Gale and I finished our Champagne in a single swill and drifted back to join the others, gathered loosely around the pad. Ann was with the handsome couple with whom she had been flirting in the spa, a massive Polynesian, and his cute black American wife who had worn the indigo thong. They had introduced themselves to us earlier as, Tako and Tiffany. As Ann prepared to take center stage and bring the night literally to its climax, she was more stunningly beautiful than I had ever seen her. Freshly applied eye makeup sent a new wave of lust throbbing through my loins. Her eyelashes had a more defining touch of mascara; her upper and lower lids were painted frosty, aqua blue and her mouth was now a slutty slash of bright geranium. Her nipples too had been artfully brushed with the same arousing colors. Above the pad, the pleasure swing hung idly from a rafter to which it was attached by a swivel bolt. Surrounding it, the braziers still burned brightly casting dancing shadows on the pad. On a nod from Nerilie, Ann, with the aid of the Tako whose hand she held for balance, and Tiffany who held her train, climbed the steps onto the pad and began to dance. She stood with her long shapely legs spaced wide apart to open both the split in her skirt and the rosy lips of her hot, shaven pussy. Nestled proudly within it, her ripe, pink clitoris stood glistening as her hips rotated to a wild, jungle rhythm that the drummer had begun. Ann's long arms reached for the rafters, slowly waving in time with the music. Her dance became almost unbearably erotic as her rotating shoulders swung her breasts in a circular motion. Her head tilted downwards in an attitude of mock shyness, her lustful eyes fed on her own voluptuousness. Our cheers raised the level of excitement as we urged her on. Ann was in a trance of ecstasy. With her hands free of her long gloves, unbuttoned at the wrists, she taunted us by caressing and finger fucking herself. The effect on the group, including myself, was electrifying. The well-hung guys proudly thrust their erections at her and the girls were cupping and wiggling their shapely tits to heighten her arousal. Holding her hands behind her back, Ann leant forward to accentuate the line of her tits as she shook them shamelessly at us all. The tension rose to fever pitch. I was so aroused that I didn't notice her hands unhook her skirt. It slid smoothly over her creamy hips onto her scarlet stilettos, leaving her standing in a pool of satin, all but nude. Her gold gloves, the scarlet ribbon, the string of pearls that rolled over her nipples and breasts, were all that covered her nudity. The muscles in my stomach tightened as my once shy wife stepped back into the black, webbed harness of the pleasure swing. Nerilie stepped onto the pad and quickly fastened the restraints that supported and splayed Ann's legs, yet allowing them freedom of movement to respond to the men that would fuck her. Colored laser light strobes danced all over her full, ripe nakedness, as soon as she laid back in the harness. Nerilie, having secured the straps, began tweaking Ann's nipples and slid a finger into her cunt to test her readiness. "Oooh," Ann gasped as she writhed under Nerilie's tender touch. A second finger joined the first sending a fresh thrill through her body. Her head threw back and she closed her eyes, "Ooooaaaaah! That feels sooo good." Nerilie smiled at her seductively and whispered, "I think you're ready for some action honey. Tako, Tiffany, Kurt, Tony … Ann is for your pleasure. Take her! The big men and the tall, lithe woman clambered onto the pad. The Polynesian stepped between her legs and black Tiffany stood at her head as each adjusted Ann's height to the level of their sex. The blond German and the Italian stallion knelt on cushions to either side of Ann and began to tongue-tease her long, sensitive nipples. She squirmed and giggled as they tormented her tits without respite. She caught a glimpse of Tako's massive dick. "Oh my god! Where do you think you're going with that?" she looked at his erection with a mixture of excitement and alarm. Tako smiled softly at her, "Wherever he leads I follow, honey," his broad features broke into a wide grin. "And right now, he's headed for your pussy!" Flushed all over, Ann quivered with nervous arousal. Tako knelt beside the swing, tickling and teasing her open clit with his warrior tongue. And the more he teased and tickled her the wetter she got and the louder her laughter became. "Oh you cruel ... Ooh, you bastards… just FUCK me Tako," she screamed as her head threw back between Tiffany's open legs. Ann's mouth opened onto the beautiful black woman's pussy. She began to eat her. Nerilie lay on her back beneath the swing where not only did she have an engineer's view of Tako's beautiful, big, golden balls and his long, thick drive shaft, but also she had access to both Kurt's and Tony's lonely cocks, upon which she wasted no time sucking on one, while she jacked off the other, in rapid rotation. Now, for as long as I have known him, "big bad John" has always hated waste and when he saw Nerilie lying on her back with her fiery red pussy staring him in the face, the first word that sprang to his thrifty mind was, "waste". So down he went on hands and knees to crawl between Nerilie's legs until he could insert his long, lascivious tongue into her vacant love tunnel. She soon had her legs locked around his neck with the heels of her stilettos locked hard against the back of his bobbing head. Milton saw his chance with Tiffany who was moaning loudly as Ann's tongue slaked her. He stepped onto the pad behind her, and cupping her cheeky black tits in his huge pink palms, he slid his nine-inch baton between her legs into Ann's inverted mouth. Ann looped her pearls over his big, black balls and around the base of his wicked cock, before guiding it into Tiffany's exotically perfumed slit. My own erection became more urgent and unmanageable as I watched Ann being ravished in the swing. Above the music, Gale beside me whispered, "As it was I, who caught her flowers, you get to fuck me first, honey. Now aren't you lucky that I jumped higher than the other girls, huh!" To illustrate her points, she bounced up and down mischievously in front of me, and laughed at how serious I suddenly became. Backlit against the flaming torches, Gale's long hair glowed with a lustrous fire. She had lowered her face to mine spilling the softness of her copper mane about my cheeks and shoulders until, within that silky curtain, there were just the two of us. Her green eyes were but inches from mine, "Oh god, you are gorgeous," was all I managed to say before my cock had found its way into her hot, well lubricated cunt. "Oh Fuck me baby, just fuck me good!" Gale demanded. "Oh honey, you are such a hot, wet Bitch!" I slid my hands under her arms and gripped her shoulders - thrusting from side to side inside her, pulling her hard onto my aching cock - faster, faster, I couldn't stop but just kept fucking this beautiful woman that responded so perfectly to each and every stroke. Only then did I notice Fay. She was lying on her back beside us with her arms outstretched submissively on the pad with her splayed legs pointing at the ceiling. Through half closed lids she was watching me fuck Gale as Milton was fucking her, "Oooooh Milton! Give it to me honey! Fuck me with your beautiful big black rod!" It was more than he could stand. Milton's pace grew faster as he reached his climax. His body arched and a second later his massive cock shot a wad of thick white sperm into her wanton cunt. Fay screamed and thrashed on the pad as her orgasm spread and consumed her. Ann looked up at the huge warrior of a man who was about to fuck her. He aroused in her feelings that she had never felt before and over which she had no control. She felt like a shameless whore and she loved it. Her body had begun to respond fiercely, even before his golden pole had touched the eager lips of her open cunt. Her face and neck had flushed and the color was spreading to her swollen breasts. "Oh fuck me Tako, fuck me," she pleaded. Her eyes closed as his arrowhead pierced her. "Ooh …Ooooh!" she gasped, as her head threw back between the wide-open legs of a tall brunette at her head. Tako's great hands and held Ann's hips firmly as he slowly worked the head of his golden shaft deeper into her lust-crazed cunt. His strong, powerful arms were covered in the swirling patterns of south-sea tribal tattoos. Those fascinated and excited her terribly as she began to buck her hips against his penetration. Ann's eyes were wild with lust at the sights, the sounds, and the sensations that ravished her. Her moans grew deeper and louder as Tako fucked her to the music's beat. The pleasure swing was slightly behind and above us. Ann glanced down at couples and threesomes moaning, groaning and fucking on the pad around her. I glimpsed Tako's giant cock sliding in and out of her with long, deep strokes. Tako let out an almighty roar, as his thick cock suddenly erupted deep inside Ann's pussy, filling her with his thick, warm semen. She caterwauled in a long and ruthless climax that set me teetering on the brink of a yawning chasm into which I was about to fall. Gale's kegel muscles bore down on my cock like a cobra tightening its coils to strangle its prey. Her face and pert, firm breasts were covered in beads of sweat. "FUCK me!" she screamed, "Please FUCK ME…FUCK ME, FUCK ME! Now honey, let me have it all!" It was more than I could stand. "Oh what a luscious slut you are," I groaned, "Give, you sexy bitch!" She reached under my butt to caress and spread her hot juices all over my balls, as with quickening stokes I thrust inside her, side to side. I had passed the Rubicon and could withhold no longer. Her cunt pulsated around my rock hard cock, so tight, so slippery and so wet. She raised her hips to meet my thrusts, pleasuring her clit with her fingers as we fucked. I felt her orgasm explode around me in a burst of cock milking spasms. She scooped her wetness over my butt and slid a slippery finger into my anus. I roared as my shattering orgasm erupted deep inside her, and the first light of dawn broke over "Oceanview". # End.