by A. C. Ellas
Sasha placed the call, carefully routing it through several different relays all over Europe before routing it to the destination in America. He didn’t want this call traced. The call was answered promptly.
A pleasantly dressed middle-aged woman faced them squarely on the screen. She spoke in English. “Psion Squad Headquarters, how may I direct your call?”
“I need to speak to Adele Brown. Tell her it’s Sasha calling, and it’s urgent.”
“Please hold, I’ll see if she’s available.” The screen blanked to the Psion Squad logo, an eye within a triangle.
“The Psion Squad?” George murmured, a hint of awe in his voice.
“They trained me, years back. I still have friends there. Hopefully, they’ll help us.”
A few minutes passed before the screen flicked back to life. Sasha immediately smiled at the woman with dark brown skin, tightly coiled back hair, and elegant upswept black eyes. “Adele, thank you for taking my call.”
“Anything for an old friend, Sasha. What can I do for you? You said it was urgent?”
“It is. I am training, in secret, a person with prime level earth talent. For reasons I can’t discuss, we cannot allow the government to learn his identity or the level of his talent.”
“How mysterious. Would this prime be in danger from his government if they found out?” Adele’s eyes were sparkling with interest now.
“Absolutely, yes. This would not be an issue, except that he has predicted a major earthquake in Constantinople sometime this week. There is no way I can issue a warning without immediately having to reveal his identity.”
Adele nodded slowly. “Is bringing him here not an option? You know we’d be delighted to offer him refugee status, citizenship, and full training.”
“He’s a Rovani,” George said quietly.
Adele’s widened eyes flicked to George. “That does complicate matters. So, there’s a major earthquake coming, which will doubtless kill many people if there’s no evacuation, and you want me to claim I precogged it?”
Sasha nodded. “Yes.”
“And this Rovani is certain it will be soon?”
“Within days he says, a week at most.”
“Okay. I’ll issue the alert.” Adele grinned. “This will be my first earthquake prediction, so I hope he’s not mistaken about how much stress that fault will tolerate before slipping.”
“That’s not an error an earth talent is likely to make,” Sasha reassured her.
“Nobody’s perfect,” she retorted.
“True. And thank you, Adele. I owe you one.”
“Come visit some time and you can take me out to dinner.”
“Thank you,” George added. “You really are doing us a favor.”
Adele’s gaze flicked back to George. “Is the Rovani yours?”
“Yes.”
“You take good care of him. Earth talents are all too rare.” She paused, glancing away from the screen then nodded. “Okay, we have your contact number now, Mr. Tavlakis. We’ll see what we can do here.” With that mysterious comment, she ended the call.
* * * *
It was the singing that lured her in. She recognized Yeri’s baritone from a distance, his deep voice had a distinct timbre to it. Yeri was in the nursery, sitting on a cushion on the floor as he sang to the baby in his arms. Lee was quiet but awake, his attention fixed on the Rovani, one of his little hands wrapped around the leashing ring of Yeri’s left wrist bracelet.
Ellie sat down on the rocker and just watched them. When Yeri glanced at her, she motioned for him to continue. She didn’t speak, didn’t interrupt the song. It wasn’t a song she knew. It had a spritely melody, and the lyrics were pure fun, almost nonsensical. When Yeri finished it and fell silent, she asked, “What song was that?”
“His song, mistress.” Yeri shrugged a shoulder. “Do you want him now, mistress?”
“No,” Ellie replied. “He looks happy where he is.” Happier than he is when he’s with me, she didn’t say.
Yeri’s brow furrowed slightly as his nostrils quivered. “He’s your son, Mistress.” There was a slight emphasis on the your, as if Yeri was trying to acknowledge that he had no real claim over the baby.
“Is he? Really?” Ellie pursed her lips, shook her head, stood, and beat a hasty retreat. What’s wrong with me? she wondered, yet again. She’d gone in there intending nothing more than talking to Yeri, maybe trying to make peace with him, but once again, her anger had taken over.
* * * *
Yeri stood and shifted his grip on Lee. He padded out of the nursery in Ellie’s wake, but he didn’t follow her. Instead, he went to the kitchen. He felt out of his depth dealing with Ellie recently. Perhaps talking to another woman would help. Marra was in the kitchen, kneading dough.
“Thia,” he said softly. She refused to allow him to call her mistress, reminding him that she, too, had worn a collar for most of her life.
“Hello, Yeri. How are you?”
“Confused, Thia. I was hoping you could help me.” He settled himself on the blanket that was still in the kitchen nook and slowly explained what was going on with Ellie. He included his impressions of her scent—anger, but also depression and even self-loathing.
Marra heard him out then shook her head. “Tut, tut. Mistress Ellie needs help, Yeri. This sounds like baby blues. Sometimes, when a woman has a baby, the chemicals in her brain get messed up, leading to depression. It’s very treatable.”
Yeri blinked. He’d never heard of such a thing, but that didn’t mean Marra was wrong. There was much about humans that his trainers had neglected to teach him, this was probably one of those things. Since it made humans seem less than perfect, it wasn’t something the Breedmasters were likely to teach. “Should I tell Master?”
“If you don’t, I will. In fact, we should probably both speak to him. I’ve been noticing some things, too, that lend credence to our theory.”
He didn’t let himself laugh when her theory became our theory. The issue was too important for levity. He stood up again. “Thank you, Thia.” He padded out of the kitchen, heading for the living room where George, Taiki, and Costa were watching the football game. Why humans were so fascinated by people running back and forth, chasing and kicking a black and white ball, was completely beyond him. He thought it was boring, even stupid, but his humans loved this game, and so he kept his mouth shut.
He waited until there was a pause in play before leaning close to George and murmuring, “Master, I need to speak to you. It’s important.”
George immediately stood up. “I’ll be right back. Let me know what I miss. Yeri, heel.” He strode out of the room, Yeri on his heels. As soon as they were in the hallway, and relative peace and quiet, George turned. “What is it?”
“Master, Mistress hasn’t been herself lately, since Lee was born.”
“Yes, I’ve noticed. This isn’t new news.”
“Master, I spoke to Thia about it.” Quickly, he explained what he’s sensed and smelled, what Marra thought, what she knew of these baby blues, ending with it being treatable.
George heard him out, but Yeri could smell his growing concern and worry. “Thank you, Yeri. You were right to come to me. I assume I’ll be hearing from Thia Marra, too?”
“Yes, master.” Yeri allowed himself to smile a little.
“I’ll see what I can do to help Ellie. In the meantime, keep an eye on her, a sympathetic eye.” George walked back into the living room.
Yeri was about to head back to the nursery when George’s shout reached his ears.
“Yeri! Get in here!”
Without hesitating, he padded back into the living room. The large TV caught his attention immediately. This was what George had called him for. A large section of Constantinople now lay in ruins from an earthquake.
The newscaster was talking about the magnitude of the quake, the amount of destruction it had caused but also said, “Thanks to a timel
y forewarning from America’s Psion Squad, the city had been evacuated. Loss of life is thought to be minimal, a few hundred souls at the most.”
George winked at him. “Good work, kitty cat.”
Yeri smiled back then shifted Lee to his other side before heading to the nursery. He was pleased to know that Sasha’s plan had worked and that the warning had been heeded, but he had other things on his mind. Lee needed changing.
Chapter Fourteen
George brought Yeri into the bedroom. Ellie was there already, sitting on the bed, dressed in a simple nightgown. She had calmed considerably since starting on the medication for her baby blues and had even started warming toward Yeri.
Yeri wondered what George had in mind as the human guided him toward the bed. A tug at his waist from George sent the wrap fluttering to the floor. George stopped him at the foot of the bed, standing close behind him. George’s large, hot hand reached around and gripped Yeri’s cock. He fondled Yeri erect in short order.
“This is yours to play with, koukla. He’s sterile, as you know, so there’s no danger. He loves you and wants to please you. Sex is how he shows his love, how he binds himself to us, his humans. Don’t deny him what he needs.”
Yeri agreed with George wholeheartedly, but he remained silent but for his gasps and moans of pleasure as George continued to play with him.
“Come here, koukla. Touch it, touch him.”
Ellie swallowed, Yeri could smell her nervousness, but also her excitement and lust. She slid down to the foot of the bed, careful to keep the nightgown tucked, then reached out with her small, delicate hands and wrapped them about Yeri’s erection.
He gasped as she touched him then moaned as she stroked the member in her grip. Her hands felt so good, even better than George’s, for they were soft and dainty and without the calluses of a musician.
The back of George’s hand brushed against his lips, and he obediently kissed and licked his master’s hand, reveling in the taste of his master—so hot, so human, so perfect—even as the scent-lock consumed him. His skin felt too tight, his heart hammered in his chest, and all he wanted was to please George. Ellie released him, and he moaned in sorrow even as he rubbed his ass against George’s crotch in blatant desire.
Ellie’s hand now brushed against his lips, and he kissed and licked it, too, just as he had for George. Her scent filled him, added to his lust and need, and now, he wanted them both.
George pushed him down onto the bed, and Ellie backed away to give them space. Once George had Yeri positioned to his liking, he thrust into Yeri, impaling the Rovani on his cock. He stopped.
“Ellie, come back here, koukla.”
She scooted down to them, her nightgown riding up in the process. By the time she reached them, she was nude from the waist down, and her thighs parted before them as she stopped, giving them both a perfect view of her sex.
“Lick her, Yeri.”
Yeri lowered his head to her crotch and kissed her before allowing his tongue to dart out and taste her. Ellie gasped, and George grunted in enjoyment. Yeri licked her thoroughly, gently, sensuously. He teased the hot nub of her clit, lapped up her sweet juices, even slipped up inside her for a better taste. He worked her patiently, pacing himself to the action of his master with the goal of having both his humans climax at the same time. Ellie’s moans were victories, her hands on his head felt good, but George’s cock stroking him was his real reward, above and beyond her delicious taste.
Abruptly, George withdrew. “Yeri, roll over.”
Yeri obeyed immediately, releasing Ellie to flip onto his back. He spread his legs for George and lifted his pelvis in silent appeal. George reached over him and drew Ellie into his embrace. Yeri waited, trembling with desire, as the humans pressed against each other. George pulled off Ellie’s nightgown, and Yeri admired her shapely back while hoping he wasn’t about to have another scent-lock sour on him. But he trusted George, knew that George would never hurt him, so he waited patiently.
George lifted Ellie and set her down on Yeri’s erection. Yeri sucked in a breath as his tool was enveloped in a hot, tight embrace. A moment later and George entered him again. George held onto Ellie, stroking her body lovingly as she sank onto Yeri and rode him. George slowly resumed pumping, each inward thrust a bolt of pleasure that ricocheted between all three of them. Yeri worked his body with wild abandon, grinding himself against George and thrusting up into Ellie, sharing his heart and soul with them both, basking in their attentions and their pleasures.
The orgasm was transcendental, an overwhelming surge of ecstasy that picked them up and spun them about. Ellie was crying out to god as her tunnel clamped down on Yeri like a vise, George was roaring his pleasure as he filled Yeri’s body with his cum, and Yeri held onto consciousness with all his might, praying he wasn’t about to have a seizure. The humans above him, atop him and in him, gradually relaxed though their positions didn’t change.
“There now, was that so bad?” George asked gently.
“That was amazing,” Ellie whispered.
To be continued...
About the Author
A.C. Ellas has long since embraced her inner nerd. She revels in her Greekness and in her Geekness. She has two lives—the mundane reality of life here on earth and the far more interesting life in her head. She is fascinated by ancient history, ancient forms of combat, target archery, sabre fencing, the equestrian sports and all things equine, dragons, spaceships, time travel, organic food and sustainable farming. Above all, she loves science fiction and fantasy of all varieties, especially conventions, which are the only gatherings on earth where she can find many people just as strange as she is.
You can contact her at [email protected] or through her website www.ac-ellas.com
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