by Candace Sams
As Aigean’s assistants loosely tied his wrists to the columns, he vaguely noticed a round, white-covered bed being mechanically hoisted onto the dais. As with everything in this make-believe fantasy, the décor was startlingly bright. He assumed this was to make their bodies more visible.
As he’d been told, once the thick white curtains surrounding them were raised, their voyeurs would surround them from all sides, hence the circular shape of the stage. But that bed was where they were eventually supposed to end up. Their rendezvous there was to occur after Lyra had her way with him.
In another time and place, or in another reality where no war existed, the scenario would have exited him no end. But Lyra’s fear drove such protective instincts into his core that all he cared about was calming her. Only years of training and fighting held her together. She was faced with performing a very intimate act in front of enemies who’d shadow her every movement. They’d want her and would ultimately stalk her. They both knew it.
“Lyra … look at me,” Soldar commanded softly.
She did so automatically. Apparently his command sunk in where nothing else might have.
“Remember what I told you,” he whispered. “It’s just us. No one else exists. No one.” He kept repeating this mantra over and over.
Finally, she lifted her chin and moved toward him. In that small act, Soldar knew he’d seen something very rare.
In her almost paralyzing fear, the woman showed fortitude no general on any battlefield had ever displayed in his presence. When she stood only a few inches in front of him, the curtains slowly lifted. Aigean’s employees hadn’t given her time to cut and run. But then, she wouldn’t have taken that course. He witnessed a determination in her gaze, however fearful it might be. And this completely overwhelmed him. The woman had pushed her alarm deep down, into some dark place. She suddenly became the dauntless warrior-goddess he’d seen in that canyon. He kept whispering to her, sure that no one in the audience could hear him above the applause and banging of hands and mugs on tabletops.
Some part of his brain recognized the introduction of sultry music.
“I’m right here, baby, right here,” he crooned. “What do you want from me? I’m here for you to take. It’s all yours. Whatever you want.”
• • •
She felt his warm breath on her cheek, heard the soft words, and knew them for the comfort they were meant to be. But a very unusual dose of courage suddenly rose, brought on by his soothing verses.
She placed the palms of her hands against his chest and moved them over his nipples.
“That’s it. Just do it. Just have me. Think of how good we were. Remember that? Remember how it felt together?” he murmured.
Lyra didn’t respond. She just kept listening and actually felt her hips begin to sway to the slow, sexy music. His fresh, clean scent surrounded her. It was like a protective blanket, enfolding her within some barrier no one else could penetrate. And, as she actually brushed the tops of her thighs against his, Sol’s eyes began to glow. In their heated depths she found motivation and more. She found her passion.
She witnessed his response to her slight but suggestive movements. That body-graze, while it was whisper soft, did more to engorge him than any caress from her hands. Though his wrists were only loosely tied to the columns and he could have shaken off the bindings at any time, he gripped and pulled against the restraints as though they were the strongest chains. It was as if he’d been bound for only one reason — to please the mistress she was meant to portray.
“You have me right where you want me, Lyra. And I need you. Feel how much I need you?”
She did. His swelling penis rose between their bodies and brushed the skin between her thighs as it did. Despite where they were and the hushed silence that overcame the crowd, her body responded to his. Suddenly, there was no audience. There was nothing but the man, the moment, and her. She glanced down and saw his testicles begin to glow. Though it might have been a trick of the light, there seemed to be a droplet of lubrication dripping on the tip of his penis. She gazed up at him and licked her lips.
“Take over … love. I’m yours. Do with me what you like,” he continued to whisper.
Lyra teased his nipples again. Then she twisted them, which brought forth a low moan from deep within her huge, god-like partner’s throat.
She daren’t speak. There were no words but his. What he uttered energized and charged her to do more. Because of his soft entreaties, her fear all but fled. If she died now, she’d go having him. There were thousands of worse ways to perish. His was a physique women fought to own.
And there he was, all hers to enjoy. What harm would there be in taking this, perhaps her last night of life, to extremes.
Soldar rotated his hips forward when she ran her fingertips down the outside of his ribcage to his lower hips. Then, she dragged her fingertips toward his abdomen and firmly grasped the fully engorged cock before her. Without thinking of any consequence her actions might have on the audience, she knelt before him suddenly and took his cock in her mouth, all the way to the back of her throat. A loud moan of sheer, animal-like pleasure tore from his lungs. The sound of it echoed throughout the room. Then she simultaneously began to pull his balls straight down, stretching them to the max as she did so. He spread his thighs in response.
“Suck my balls,” he begged.
She accommodated him while continuing to stroke his penis with her fingertips, lightly and gently. They flew over the organ as if they were butterflies searching for much needed nectar. The bondage illusion was something she’d never tried and wished now she had. But then the man she was with made all the difference when it came to doing something so out of her comfort zone.
• • •
Minutes passed as he enjoyed the most luxurious sucking, kneading, and massaging of his entire life. Lyra must have sensed his approaching orgasm because she suddenly stood, using his body as a ladder to pull herself upward. His pretend lover had to stand on her toes to kiss him, but she did so with all the intensity of a sun going nova. Her tongue entwined with is in a heated duel of passionate thrusting. And then she broke the contact to jump up and wrap her arms around his shoulders. From there, his passionate war-woman untied one hand and then the other by using the loose and dangling ends of his wrist restraints.
He wasted no time putting his hand underneath her tight, perfect butt. He immediately hoisted her up and then drove her back down onto his cock. Her moan of utter satisfaction was rendered softly, for his ears only. Lyra actually bit into his shoulder to keep from making any further noise or shouting out as she might have done if no one had been present.
She clung tightly to him as he walked with her to the bed. Once there, he laid her back onto the soft, white silken material and proceeded to plunge deeply into her tight little pussy over and over. He was in ecstasy once more, savoring the heat of her body against his penis, flange, and testicles.
“No one touches you but me, Lyra. No one!” he softly promised as he thrust even harder and alternately tasted her sweet, erect nipples.
“Deeper … go deeper!” she pleaded as she spread her legs wide and felt his hands move to the inside of her knees to help her. And to take him more fully, she rolled slightly backward. The action placed her more on her shoulders than her back.
Soldar was now plunging into her from an almost vertical position while holding her legs at the ankles and in a very wide position.
“Mine,” he growled and continued to test the limits of her heated depths. “You’re mine, Lyra!”
He saw her grab the luxuriously soft cloth on either side of her. She closed her eyes and her head lolled from side to side. His flange pulled and played with her clit so there was no escaping the small, caressing attack.
Just three more deeply powered thrusts, and his flange allowed him to feel a massive orgasm beginning at
the very back of her vaginal wall. It worked its way forward, into her clit. Only then did she cry out loudly in release.
But he kept going. Her cries drew from him an amazingly full orgasm of such intensity that he almost lost his vision. Only rarely had he heard of Craetorian men experiencing such a momentary loss. It could only occur if their mate’s orgasm was very intense. His own experience was raw, pure, strong, and ongoing. His climax dragged seed from him for a full minute and then some seconds longer. He finally collapsed over her, panting and pulling her into his embrace at the same time. It was some moments more before he realized the curtains were closing around them to thundering applause.
He could feel Lyra shaking and clinging to him. Her fingertips were still clawing at his back, an automatic response to their lovemaking. After a few minutes, he separated his body from hers by only a few inches. Then he gazed down at her face. The expression in those glittering blue-green eyes was glorious. In their depths he saw a promise of the future that could be theirs if they could survive. His fingers went to her soft hair and involuntarily pushed the bangs off her forehead. “It’s over, baby. Night one is all over.”
She swallowed hard, nodded, and hugged him hard once more. Tears came to her eyes and he nuzzled his cheek against hers. The warrior in her might hate the weakness she was showing after sex, but the woman needed the release tears provided. Sol understood and rocked her back and forth, murmuring sweet endearments. But their soft fantasy was quickly broken when a blue-robed servant approached.
“Please, mistress and master, you must don your clothing quickly. Lady Aigean can’t make it back here. She had pressing matters to attend elsewhere.”
Soldar nodded and caressed Lyra’s hip once more.
“One warning,” the girl quickly continued, “there are Condorian officers in the back hallway leading to the stage. Admiral D’uhr is among them. I believe it is his intention to seek a private audience with you. We tried to explain that you would need rest, but he would not be stalled. Be assured that we will not leave you alone. I and my companions will stay until you are safely in your quarters.”
Soldar pulled away from the warm safety of his lover’s body. He held his hand out to help her up. “I’ll assist Lyra with her clothing. Keep the Condorians diverted for a few moments.”
Lyra swiftly stood beside him. He watched her take deep, cleansing breaths. Then he waited while she ran her long fingers through her chin-length hair; the curls seemed to find their exact right place beneath her lovely chin and around her soft, tiny ears.
“Okay?” he asked.
“U-huh,” she breathlessly responded. “Get me dressed fast. I don’t want any Condorian near me without my clothes on.”
He pressed a gentle kiss into her forehead, grabbed her clothing, and proceeded to see to her dressing first. His own pants and boots were in place several minutes later and luckily so. A gruff, loud voice sounded outside the stage hatch. The hatch slid open and a Condorian of massive proportions pushed his way past several serving women and toward the stage where he and Lyra stood.
Protective instincts Soldar couldn’t control surfaced. He pushed Lyra behind him and stood ready to fight off a legion for her sake. Behind him, he could feel her body tense as if she was also going into battle. It occurred to him that she might not have ever been this close to the enemy without running, firing her weapon, or ducking other armament. The hulking creature before them was horribly impressive, but Soldar understood size was how the Condorian race chose their superiors. The biggest and largest of the men, and the most aggressive of the women, were always the top cast. Everyone else was expendable and easily sent to die on their behalf.
• • •
Lyra dug into herself and found the power to paste on an almost bored expression. Still reeling from Sol’s lovemaking, this was no easy task. She somehow felt stronger and more able to cope with this confrontation than she’d have ever believed possible. Briefly touching the armband he’d attached to her left bicep, she stepped from behind her Craetorian protector to help him face this most monstrous of all the Condorian leaders. This particular creature had a reputation for mistreating everyone around him, including his own officers. It was said they all yielded to his whims, or they faced torture. It was this same, single-minded brutality that kept him feared.
Admiral Kardis D’uhr was about six feet, six inches in height, but he’d had to turn his broad shoulders to get through the hatch. Like all Condorians, his head was devoid of hair. Black, tattooed tribal markings had been etched all over his bald pate as well as his face, arms and that part of his chest she could see through the vee of his leather vest. The rest of his body likely bore similar artistic renderings. His pants and tall boots thankfully covered them.
There’d been dead Condorians on the battlefield. Of those whose clothing had been blown away, she’d seen numerous tattoos. His eyes were similarly dark to those deceased; his broad face and thick neck were frighteningly fierce in appearance. Like all his people, he looked more like a raging berserker than a true warrior. Every muscle on his body was as well-defined as Sol’s except there was no lion-like grace in his movements.
D’uhr was arguing with the servants, who insisted on trying to protect the entertainers. His bare, meaty arm rose to strike the girl who’d tried to keep him outside the stage hatch. That was when Soldar moved forward. Had her warrior-lover not done so at that exact moment, Lyra was sure the blow from the admiral’s hefty Condorian hand would have broken the slender girl’s neck. D’uhr, like all his people, had no patience. But what could she have expected from a leather-clad, giant bully? From his thick, socialistic black boots to his nasty grin, the man was evil incarnate. His malevolence was palpable. Thousands had died by his command.
• • •
Once more, Soldar moved slightly ahead of Lyra so that she stood just behind his right shoulder. Her bravery was awesome, but he didn’t want it tested. Not now.
He interrupted D’uhr’s attempt to strike the serving girl with a very assertive comment. “Was there something you wanted?” he loudly asked in Earth English.
D’uhr stilled his hand then slowly turned and presented a smile as he looked over the only Craetorian in the room. Straightening his shoulders, he moved onto the stage. “I … am Admiral Kardis D’uhr. It’s obvious what planet you hail from,” he stated in broken English as he puffed out his chest and gazed back with suspicion. “Do you not seek to fight my race alongside your brethren?” he suspiciously asked. “What brings a man like you to a place like this? What could a Craetorian possibly want so far away from his own world, and why do you not speak in your native Craetorian tongue?”
Soldar pasted on a vapid expression. “I speak English for my partner’s benefit. And as to why I’m here … I side with whomever can offer me the most remuneration. In this case, that would be Aigean Florn.”
“Ah, that makes you a neutral?” D’uhr questioned cagily.
Again, Soldar bowed his head slightly in confirmation. “I see no point in fighting for a lost cause. The sight of blood … well, it sickens me.” He lifted a hand in greeting. The offer went ignored so he dropped it by his side again. “I’m called Soldar, big fellow. At least that’s the stage name I’m using for this gig. As performers, we go where the contracts are to our advantage. I’m sure a man of your status can understand making the best business deal.” He looked the Condorian over with what he hoped was his best, come-hither expression. D’uhr had to want him, not Lyra. If the admiral’s tastes now ran to men as Aigean claimed, then she might be safe for a while longer.
Kardis stared back at Soldar. “You have scars on your body that mock your words.” He stepped closer. “If I believed there was a spy among the crew, I would take everyone off this ship and have them beheaded for harboring such an agent.” He put his hand to Soldar’s throat and squeezed a bit for effect. “I would then take that sp
y below deck and allow my men the luxury of a long and entertaining torture.”
“What? These little cuts?” Soldar girlishly responded in reference to the scars. He also raised one hand and sensually stroked the fingers now closing about his larynx. “Law enforcement authorities incarcerated me for six months on Signus Mondi,” he lied. “The constables took exception to an escape attempt I bungled. I’ve been meaning to make an appointment to have these unsightly marks removed, but some of my clients actually find them attractive. It’s been said they enhance my masculinity.”
D’uhr stood straighter when the name Signus Mondi was mentioned. The admiral’s eyes narrowed and he fixed his gaze on Soldar as if the mention of that world was the most important thing he’d ever heard. “And what was your crime? Were any incarcerated with you?”
“Prostitution was the infraction listed on the books. And yes … there were others with me but I prefer not to talk about it right now,” he insisted as he slyly shifted his gaze in Lyra’s direction.
Kardis nodded covertly then turned an impassive countenance toward Lyra. “And who is this creature?”
“Just call me Lyra,” she swiftly answered without offering her hand in greeting. “I speak several languages if English bothers you. It just happens to be the most universally accepted on these pleasure ships.”
“You obviously hail from some world other than Craetoria, woman. You have no face marking as one of that race, but you are banded with this man,” he stated as he suspiciously looked her and her armband over.
“I’m from Gratis Major,” she easily responded. “We speak English there, but you must surely know that.” She lifted the palm of her right hand and covered her armband with it. “As to this old thing … don’t take it to heart. Sol and I paired for business reasons. It’s a mixed-race arrangement that makes getting work easier. As a twosome, we’re more in demand.” She glanced downward at the admiral’s hand.
Soldar saw her quickly avert her gaze. To see what had so alarmed her, he also glanced down at D’uhr’s hands. He understood why Lyra hadn’t offered a handshake.