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Pleasure Planet

Page 7

by Beverly Havlir


  Aria gasped a little. She knew it was an act, and yet his words provoked something in her. This man’s language was more flowery than Ronan’s, almost old-fashioned, but his message was the same. He was acting off the same instruction, no doubt, as to her submissive sexual predilections. She found herself intrigued, despite a stab of guilt that centered around Ronan. And yet, she was only following orders, wasn’t she? By submitting to Mordan, she would be submitting to Ronan.

  A practical woman, she decided right then that she would try to enjoy the few days left, taking pleasure in the hedonistic offerings for which she had in fact paid quite dearly. Waste not, want not, she thought, grinning ruefully at the ancient proverb. Aria felt trepidation, fearing Ronan would not be able to make good on his promise, however sincere his intentions. She would not betray him. She would wait, obeying his wishes and trust in him. Smiling now, she turned to Mordan and said, “Let the games begin.”

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  Chapter Nine

  She expected him to again command her to strip. She expected him to seduce her much as Ronan had, with kisses and sweet whispers, and his hard palm and maybe even the punishment cane.

  She hadn’t expected him to stand and lurch suddenly toward her. Sweeping her up in his arms, he bent down, covering her mouth with his, drawing out her kiss with a fierceness that brooked no resistance.

  As he kissed her, he carried her to the bedroom—the bedroom that she and Ronan had so recently shared. He tossed her on the bed, his eyes boring into her as he pulled off his tight shirt and slipped out of his black leather pants. Aria started to rise, pulling her robe, which had come open, around her nude form.

  “Don’t move!” Mordan commanded, his voice like steel. She lay back, half expecting the force field to immobilize her, but she found she could move. For a moment, she considered slipping off the bed and running away, out the door, calling for Ronan, calling for 134256338.

  But as she leaned away from him, Mordan was on top of her, his naked body heavily muscled, his chest matted with dark, curling hair. His cock was as large as the rest of him, and she felt it against her thigh as he leaned his full weight on her, pinning her down.

  “You don’t want me in your head and so now you are at my mercy, little one. As with any other human, who had captured you and now would have his way. I’m going to take you, Aria. I’m going to claim you in the ancient human ritual, using my body as a weapon to impale you, to fill you with my essence.”

  Aria struggled beneath the large man, a shriek of panic rising in her throat. With Ronan, she had known it was a game, albeit a lovely and sometimes dangerous one. But with Mordan it felt all too real.

  She felt his cock, thick and hard against her thigh. Taking her wrists, he lifted her arms high above her head, holding them now in one beefy hand while he bent his head, seeking her nipples. Aria felt the wet flick of his tongue and then the sharp bite of his teeth. She gasped, struggling beneath him.

  He licked and bit the second nipple and then kissed her throat, drawing his long tongue up her smooth skin, finding her lips and forcing them apart as he kissed her passionately.

  Despite the fact that she was pinned and helpless beneath him, an unwilling captive, or perhaps partially because of it, Aria found herself deeply aroused, even as she continued to struggle, sincerely trying to get away. 46

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  “Stop!” she shouted, confused by her own feelings of loyalty toward Ronan and her instinctive submissive reaction to Mordan’s dominance. “Get off.”

  Mordan laughed. “Oh, I know you humans. Especially you female humans. I know you have a habit of saying, ‘No! No! No!’ when in fact you mean, ‘Yes! Yes! Yes!’ So protest all you like, little girl, but it won’t stop me. I’ll have what’s due me. You are mine to claim.”

  He stopped talking, focusing again on her nipples. Despite her fear and rising anger at his refusal to obey her, Aria couldn’t help the small moan of pleasure that escaped her lips as he skillfully teased to her nipples to taut erection. Still holding her wrists in one hand, he moved his head down, his long hair tickling her body as he found her mons. He nestled his head between her legs, forcing them apart. His tongue licked along her labia, moving in slowly, slowly, toward her center. He held her still and took his time, licking and nibbling along her pussy, drawing out juices she couldn’t control.

  He teased her for many minutes, never quite reaching her center, the little clit that now poked its head eagerly from its hood. She shifted, trying to get his tongue to find the pleasure spot, and yet he would slip away, leaving her on fire, but frustrated. At last, he relented, licking directly against the little nubbin, making her scream. Her mind shut down at last as her body demanding his attentions, which he happily gave.

  She no longer even pretended to resist as her body flooded with pleasure, every nerve ending on fire with lust. When he finally raised his head, his red lips were wet, pulling back from white teeth as he laughed with triumph. His eyes narrowed on the woman now flushed, her eyes closed, her lips parted and slack. Lifting himself over her, Mordan brought his hard, thick cock to her wet entrance and pressed in, entering her slowly, letting her adjust to his cock for a moment before thrusting his full length into her, drawing a moan that shifted to little staccato cries as he pummeled her sex. Their bodies were slick with sweat as he took her with sheer force. The pressure rose in a tumult inside of her as he moved in and out of her tight tunnel, still holding her pinned beneath his body.

  She felt her own release mounting, being pulled from her almost against her will. For a moment, she felt she was with Ronan—this was his body holding her, claiming her. Only then was she finally able to let go and climax with this strange, strong man crying out his own pleasure atop her.

  When at last he pulled away, Aria made a sound in her throat. Mordan couldn’t tell if she was laughing or crying.

  They did go sailing, and Aria thrilled to the warm seawater, watching the myriad of colorful sea creatures though the clear bottom of the boat. Aria always preferred planets with lots of water and life above ground. The dry planets generally were developed underground, with entire cultures existing beneath the surface, some of its inhabitants 47

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  only dimly aware of “outside” and usually with no interest in it, other than as a means to travel to other planets.

  This planet was so like New Earth she realized she could happily live here, in the little red-roofed house, with Ronan.

  Stop! She silently admonished herself. It wasn’t even his house, apparently, as Mordan now seemed to occupy it as comfortably as Ronan had, with full knowledge of where everything was kept.

  Mordan was extraordinarily handsome. He was an excellent lover, though perhaps more predictable than Ronan. But then, he had the disadvantage of the mind block. She didn’t feel a kindredness with Mordan, but he was exciting to be with. In fact, she suddenly realized Mordan was much like other lovers she had had, though more outwardly dominant. He was, in a word, a good lay! She laughed a little, not aware it was out loud.

  Mordan, his eyes focused on the sails as he made some minute adjustment said,

  “Are you all right? Tired perhaps?”

  Something in his tone recalled Ronan so vividly to her that for a split second she fancied it was he there, a dark silhouette against the setting sun. Her eyes felt hot and stinging with unshed tears. “Yes,” she said, her voice low. “Perhaps a little tired.”

  Mordan skillfully turned the little boat, using the sails and wind to change his direction and guide them easily back to shore. He helped Aria from the boat. She was wearing little black bikini bottoms, which contrasted prettily with her now tanned skin and silvery curls. Her high, firm breasts were tanned as well, the nipples a pleasing chocolate brown.

  As they alighted from the boat, Mordan took her hand and then, without warning, pressed her down onto the sand. “I must have you,” he said, his voice urgent. Clearly, this Erosian als
o savored his human form and its sexual appetites, or else he was a consummate actor.

  Whatever the case, he now forced Aria to her knees, making her steady herself with her hands on the warm sand as he crouched behind her. As if it were made of paper, he tore her little bikini from her body and pulled his trunks down only enough to release his already fully erect cock. His hand probed her sex for a moment, roughly taking its measure, deciding if she were wet enough to accommodate his girth. He must have decided she was because she felt the tip of his cock pressing hard against her. Her mind rebelled, pulling away from him. He hadn’t asked, he hadn’t prepared her! He was just having his way with her! And yet, her body responded, just as he surely knew it would—just as Ronan had known it would. Aria couldn’t control whatever it was inside of her that thrilled to being “taken”. She loved the adventure of it. The delicious combination of fear and desire. The primal urge to submit to a strong man, to succumb to his demand for her body. Now she groaned as he filled her. His cock was too big and, at first, he hurt her as she tensed and strained against him.

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  But as he began to thrust and move inside of her, something eased and opened and she was receptive to his onslaught, pushing back against him like a bitch in heat. “Yes,”

  she whispered urgently, not even aware that she was speaking. Mordan took Aria under the hot Erosian sun, finally thrusting so hard against her they fell together, him still holding her hips, keeping his cock buried inside of her. Lying in the sand on their sides, he held her still as he took his pleasure, only letting her go at last when he’d satisfied himself.

  As he finally pulled away, Aria stood on trembling legs and ran into the sea, washing the sand, sweat and semen from her body. She felt almost desperate to wash all traces of the man who was not Ronan from her body. She realized now what was different between the two men. Ronan understood the intrinsic romance of submission, while Mordan merely took what he wanted.

  She dove into the waves headlong, remembering her first moments in the water with Ronan, and longing for him now so intensely she actually gave a little cry. But the sound was washed away in the crashing waves and when Mordan swam out to meet her, her face was unreadable. There was just a faint, almost bruised sadness about her mouth.

  She turned away.

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  Claire Thompson

  Chapter Ten

  She’d played out the last days with Mordan, allowing him to “have his way” with her, though she found she could never give of herself completely. Now the last night had finally arrived.

  And still Ronan hadn’t come for her.

  She felt increasingly on edge as desperation crept through her veins, sucking away the life in her heart. Was there any way, she had probed, pretending a lightness she did not feel, that she might see him one last time? Just to say goodbye?

  “Aria,” Mordan had responded, a flicker of irritation crossing his features, “there is no Ronan. There never really was a Ronan. Surely, you understand that. You certainly seemed to understand and accept it as you readily took me on in his stead. You humans are like that, capable of moving from one partner to the other with little thought of emotional connection. I admire that trait. It’s so much simpler that way.”

  He grinned, perhaps thinking he was offering her a compliment. Aria only glared at him. She decided to ignore the remark, not wishing to engage in a debate about human versus Erosian behavior traits.

  Of course, there was a Ronan! He was more real as a human than he had ever felt as an Erosian. So he had told her, and so she believed. This Mordan knew nothing about it. He might assume the guise of a human being, but he was cold at the core and without any intuitive understanding of her species.

  “I can offer you money,” she said, speaking what truly was a universal language.

  “More than you make in a year—in a lifetime. I only want to see him. I must see him.”

  In the morning, she would have to leave. Her visa was up and her flight plan was booked. She had almost given up hope.

  Ronan had said he would return to her. He swore it. And yet, the night was closing in fast, and soon she would be gone. “I have no use for your money, lady,” Mordan replied. “We don’t use currency here. At least not on a personal basis. Our needs are entirely provided for. I want for nothing. I appreciate the gesture. Nevertheless, even if you were able to ‘buy’ me with this bribe, I couldn’t take you to Ronan.”

  His voice almost terse, Mordan added, “Ronan does not exist. That is not his name and he is not human. He adopted the form and the name to please you. Just as I have done. I hate to break the spell like this. It’s most unprofessional, but I feel you give me no choice, Aria. The only way I know to convince you is to show you what I really am. What he really is.”

  He stood back then leaving Aria sitting on the couch in front of the crackling, cozy fire. Standing in the middle of the room, he seemed to change, right before her eyes. The 50

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  dark thick hair that curled so handsomely over his strong neck seemed to melt away as did the eyebrows and stubble on his face. His head enlarged and his neck elongated. The leather vest and pants he sported fell from his body, and his genitals withered to a tiny flapping thing.

  Aria watched in horrified fascination as Mordan morphed from human to Erosian. A long pale robe of shimmering gold now covered his sexless form and he nodded toward her. Only his voice remained the same as he said, “This is what I truly am. The rest was a fantasy created for your pleasure. A hologram, if you wish. A dream. This is the planet of dreams. Nothing is real. You knew that, and the contracts clearly stated it.”

  Aria stared speechless for several seconds. Then she leaped from the couch, pushing blindly past him, running into the bedroom, where she slammed the door behind her and leaned against it, sobbing bitterly.

  Though the journey to the spaceport wasn’t far, she found she had lost the desire to walk alone along this lovely stretch of beach. So much had happened in the brief week she’d spent on this strange planet. She was no longer the same buoyant, self-assured person she had been before love had snaked its way into her heart. Aria accepted the taxi lift to her ship. The little vehicle was preprogrammed and thus required no driver for which she was grateful. Mordan, mercifully, had respected her obvious need for privacy and left her alone that last night.

  In the morning he had once again assumed his human, if bigger than life, form. He greeted her with a typically lavish breakfast of fresh fruits, baked breads and cakes, and hot tea. She had no appetite. She apologized, haltingly, for her behavior of the night before.

  “I know it’s not your fault, Mordan. I’m sure I’m not the first foolish human to fall in love with a dream. That’s why you have all those contracts anyway, to render the spa harmless from idiots like me. This has been quite a week, at any rate. You did your gallant best to step in and be my ‘lord and master’. And it was fun, as far as it went.”

  She looked so sad, her dark eyes turned toward the sea, her thoughts rendering her blind to its beauty. They parted at the door, exchanging a chaste kiss. It was hard to imagine this man had all but raped her on the beach, and made passionate and exhaustive love to her. She felt no more for him than for a casual acquaintance. And yet, her heart was more than bruised. More than scratched. It was split at the seams. She felt broken inside, truly bereft. She had trusted Ronan so completely. He would come for her, before the week was out. Somehow, he would reappear and they would escape together. Her thoughts really hadn’t gone much further than this. She only knew that he would come for her. And now the time was up, and Ronan was nowhere to be found.

  Once the taxi door had sealed itself, she finally let the tears she had been holding back pour forth. She sobbed uncontrollably, sitting alone and huddled in the little taxi for several minutes after it had already arrived at her port. 51

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  Finally, she pressed the release and the door slid back. Slowly, as
if her limbs were made of lead, she climbed the little stairs to her ship’s door. They slid open as she placed her hand in the scanner so it could identify her as owner of the vessel. She turned back for one last look at Eros. The vacation that was to have been a casual and much deserved break had turned out to be her undoing. She could just see the little house, with its cozy red roof, and beyond it the crashing, indifferent sea. With a huge sigh, she turned back to her ship and went on board. It was something of a relief to be back in her own space, with her own things about her. She had had this ship specially crafted and fitted to her every need and whim. It was programmed with the latest technology and she didn’t need to know a thing about navigation or piloting the stars, though in fact she was quite handy at the controls. But now she took no joy as she looked over the flight plan that would take her away from Ronan, probably forever.

  Even if she were to return to the spa next year for her one week “allotment”, the odds were next to none that she would get Ronan again. Indeed, he had been

  “removed” from her, for having displayed too human traits, behaviors, and what she found most insidious, thoughts.

  How horrible to live in a place where your thoughts were not only open to others, but read and censored by an authority that had control over your life! Aria was descended from the pioneers of space travel. If she had heard of the ancient sentiment from Old Earth, when separate nationalistic entities called countries had once existed, to

  “live free or die” she would have echoed the sentiment.

  Yet, the Erosians seemed content with their lot. Well, they knew no differently. Except these spa workers, who had a taste of other cultures, albeit usually only a taste of their sexual mores and predilections.

  Ronan had been different. He was apparently the exception that the authorities found unacceptable. And so he’d been reassigned, probably somewhere where they could monitor his mind, and keep him under better control. Poor Ronan! He would languish in that life. She knew it. He had been changed by his associations with humans. He had almost become one. How could he now go back to a passionless existence?

 

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