Clever Cargo

by Beva John

  The night before the funeral, Magnar asks if he can spend the night with me in my rooms. “I have told the Prime, Serat and Naj that I only want to be interrupted if the Palace is going to be blown up.”

  I am alarmed. “Do you think that is going to happen?” I have been following the news and there have been bombings in a few colonies. Nothing massive, but there have been some deaths, and it seems as if there is increasing political unrest.

  Magnar assures me that there is always unrest before a coronation or during an election. “Most Brunes are calm, law-abiding citizens, but there are always a few agitators.” He sits beside me and kisses my cheek. “Don’t worry about all that. I want us to have one quiet evening together before my public life starts. Once the Queen is buried, all eyes will turn to me. From that moment, everything I do will be scrutinized and criticized.”

  “I thought that was happening already.”

  “It has begun, but it will get worse, I promise.”

  I know that he will make an excellent King, but I worry that I will not make a good Queen.

  “Shh,” Magnar says, drawing me close. “No more politics. No more worries. I only want to think of you and take care of you tonight.”

  I feel safe in his arms. “As if we’re in that hut in the woods?”

  He smiles. “Actually, I prefer living in a palace.”

  “So do I,” I admit.

  He kisses me again, long and slow. “May I stay with you tonight?”

  “Yes.”

  He brushes a strand of hair off my face and then brushes my cheek with his hand. “Lottie, I would love to have sex with you, but I know Humans like to wait until they are married.”

  My pulse increases. “Some Humans. Not all.”

  His fingers linger over my lips, then trail across my jaw and down my throat as gentle as butterfly wings. “What about you? You told me once that you wanted to give your virginity as a gift to someone who loved you. Someone who would cherish you.”

  He remembered what I said before. My heart seems to beat like a drum in my chest. I know I can trust him. He isn’t going to abandon me. He has told the entire universe that he is going to marry me. What more could I possibly want? “You are that person, Magnar.”

  “Does that mean I can claim you tonight?”

  I nod, suddenly shy.

  He picks me up and carries me over to a large bed and lays me down on it. “Lottie, you know that I love you.”

  Again I nod.

  He smiles. “Let me undress you.” He carefully removes my shoes and stockings, and then it is time to untie the drawstring around my trousers and slide them down over my stomach and hips and pull them off my legs.

  When my stomach is bare, he climbs beside me onto the bed. He leans over and kisses my slightly rounded stomach. “Thank you for carrying my child.”

  This is a sacred moment. “Thank you for giving it to me.”

  He then helps me remove my tunic blouse and then my bra, setting my breasts free. His motions are smooth and deliberate.

  “Beautiful,” he murmurs as he cups them. “So round and full.” I feel my nipples tightening.

  He then surprises me by kissing my forehead. “Lottie, I love your mind.”

  I smile.

  “You are so clever. Always learning. I will never be bored by you.”

  “And I will never be bored by you.”

  He kisses me over my left breast. “I love your heart.”

  For a moment, he presses his pointed ear against my breast to listen to my heartbeat.

  He says, “You are kind. Thank you for befriending my sister.”

  “That is easy to do. She is very sweet.”

  “You are sweet,” he says. He rubs my breasts, circling my areola and barely brushing the tips. Then he kisses them, sucking my nipples into his mouth, one then the other. “So sweet,” he murmurs.

  I wait, lying on the bed, wondering what he will do next.

  He scoots further down beside me and separates my legs. “And I love your temple of Venus.” He first kisses me over the fabric of my panties, his breath is warm and sends a wave of pleasure through me.

  I sigh, stretching and writhing. “This is what I want.” I feel myself growing damp.

  He tugs the panties down further, baring my mound. “This is what I wanted the day I showed you how to use the assistor.” He then kisses my folds, moving slowly from my entrance up to my clitoris. He licks me slow and firm in a circle around that little nub, and I jolt, stunned by the strength of my reaction.

  “Oh,” I breath out.

  I feel his smile against my skin, and he looks up at me with his head between my thighs. “There is a line in a human wedding ceremony that says, ‘with my body I thee worship.’ Tonight, I will worship at your temple.”

  If anyone else said this, it would sound silly and absurd, but he says it with such conviction that I am won over.

  I lean my head back and spread my legs wider, freely offering all of myself to him. I am emboldened. I have no shame.

  He continues to kiss me and presses a finger into my slick opening. I arch my hips up, knowing that soon his cock will be there. I want that. I have imagined it so many times. “Aren’t you going to undress as well? I want to worship you, too.”

  “Not yet,” he says as he slides another finger in me. “Perhaps after your first climax.”

  “First? How many will I have tonight?”

  “Shh. Let me worship you.”

  I close my eyes and focus on the feeling of his fingers sliding in and out of my tight entrance over and over again. I feel a familiar pressure build within me. This is better than the assistors. He licks around my clit, then taps it with the flat of his tongue and I come undone, shuddering.

  I feel the waves of pleasure up flickering up from my mound and my inner walls tighten on his fingers. “Ah,” I sigh.

  “That’s one,” he says, and I smile, happy and content.

  I watch him lick his long blue fingers and then he says, “Let me tuck you in. I don’t want you to get cold.”

  I realize that I am lying on top of the covers. I shift and Magnar pulls back the sheets so I can slide inside. Then as I lie there, looking at him, he strips as well. He puts his clothes neatly on a chair. I don’t know if he is deliberately moving slowly, but I like it. Every movement increases my anticipation. Shoes, stockings, tunic and belt. Then his trousers slide off his firm hips and down his strong thighs. I knew he was tall and well build, but I had no idea that he was so muscled. His arms are strong, and his abdomen is like a rock with a v of muscles that lead down to his massive blue cock that strains upward.

  I remember that cock well from that day in the bathing room.

  I watched him slide his member into the assistor tube and now he will be sliding it into me.

  He watches me as I watch him. “Do you approve?”

  “Yes. Very much.”

  He smiles and slides into the bedding beside me. He hugs me for a moment, then lies back and lets me touch him, discovering him. I run my hands over his firm chest, his arms. I rub down to his flat stomach, but then I hesitate. He puts one of his hands over mine and brings it to his cock.

  “Ah,” I say, “it is softer than I thought it would be.”

  He laughs. “Soft is not a word I want to hear right now.”

  I put my hand around it and then squeeze it slightly. “It is warm and wonderful.”

  “That is much better.”

  He lets me caress him, learning his body. But after a while, I am tired of just my hands on him. I want to snuggle against him, pressing my breasts and legs against him. I love the feel of my nipples pressed against his chest.

  In one clever motion, he pull me close then rolls over so that he is now on top of me, pressing me down into the bed. He props himself up on his elbows, so he doesn’t crush me, but I like the heavy weight of his body against mine.

  He shifts back and forth so that his cock teases me, rubbing between my thighs an
d against my mound. He kneads my breast and rubs his hand down my sides and my legs with firmer, brisk motions, making me gasp, making my pulse race. Instead of sucking my breasts, he nips at them. I have already climaxed, so my body is prepared, humming with excitement. He says, “Are you ready for me?”

  “I think so.”

  He presses his fingers inside me to make certain I am wet, and then he guides his cock into my sheath. Slowly at first, letting my body gradually widen, adjusting to his width. Then he presses forward until there is some resistance. “This may hurt.”

  “I know. Go ahead.”

  Magnar thrusts deeper until he is fully sheathed. “Ah.” There is a little ache, a little discomfort, but I feel incredibly stretched and full and I even feel the weight of his balls against me.

  “Are you all right?” he asks. His voice is tense, as if he is holding himself back.

  “I’m fine. Do what you need to do.”

  He pulls himself nearly out and pushes in again. This time, the motion is smoother, less awkward. Then again, and gradually he increases his speed. My body has created liquid, which makes a sucking noise as he continues to ride me. I feel myself tensing, my inner muscles tightening. When Magnar feels this, he says, “Yes, my love” and he reaches under my hips to clutch my buttocks.

  I climax a second time, longer and deeper, and then I feel Magnar gasping as and throwing his head back as he ejaculates. “Mine,” he says as he finishes and sinks back down on me. “Mine.”

  “You are mine as well,” I say and smooth his damp hair behind his pointy blue ears. I kiss him and we shift over onto our sides to cuddle, spooned together.

  “That’s two,” Magnar whispers as he pulls the covers up over us and we fall asleep.

  Sometime in the night, we make love again, but this time the room is dark, and we are silent, communicating just with our thoughts, which are more impressions than words.

  I feel his need for me and a sense of possession and pride. I feel safe and cherished and astonished that my body can feel so good. I think Just like that and Yes. He sends me the words More and That’s three and I love you.

  I love you, too.

  In the morning, I wake to see the sunrise peeking through the windows. My bedding is a mess, with half of it on the floor. And the bed is dominated by my big blue lover, lying on his stomach, with his arms outstretched. It is a beautiful sight.

  For a long moment, I watch him sleep, and I am filled with a sense of well-being. I love and am loved.

  I am carrying his child and we will marry.

  Yes, he will become a King and I will become a Queen, but none of that matters as long as we keep moments like this in our hearts.

  I see a happy future before us, one I never could have imagined when I lived in Boston, over 600 years ago.

  As if sensing my attention, Magnar rolls over, baring his magnificent chest to my avid view. “Do you want to try for four?”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  MAGNAR

  The church is filled with dignitaries and priestesses. The Queen’s body is lying on a large platform and after the service, the priestesses will light a fire to consume the body and send the Queen’s soul into Paradise. I dutifully stand beside the Prime as the prayers are said and the music is sung. We are all wearing orange funeral robes. I wish Lottie was standing beside me, but I know that this even is to honor the Queen, and my personal comfort is secondary.

  The funeral is well-attended but there is some tension because of the protests outside the building. There are two main groups – one that disapproves of all monarchy and another that disapproves of me personally because I am part Human.

  As long as the protesters remain non-violent, they can stay outside, and Serat promised me that the entire venue is well guarded. We have the Palace guards as well as several units of the standing army on hand to keep the peace.

  Traditionally, the Crown Prince or Princess would be the one to offer the eulogy, but since I am not her biological child, the Prime thought it best if he gave that speech.

  As I listen to him praise the queen’s life and achievements, I wonder if is remembering having sex with her, or if that was merely another governmental duty for him.

  And considering the Queen’s proclivities, I wonder if she propositioned Serat as well.

  Not that I will ever ask him.

  I glance over at Lottie who is standing next to Emjer. Emjer is crying and I realize that I should spend more time with her. Perhaps there are some royal duties she could perform that would give her life purpose and help with her grief.

  I think Lottie is very pretty with her hair arranged high on her head. I remember how lovely it looked this morning spread out upon the sheets.

  I will never forget how she looked as she clung to me, accepting me, letting me claim her.

  I am the most fortunate traveler in the five galaxies.

  The Prime is talking about the Queen’s charities, when suddenly he stops talking and chokes. He falls forward with blood spurting from his back. He has been shot.

  Immediately guards surround the main podium and more shots are fired.

  Lottie! Get down! My first thought is for her safety. I grab a small gun from the pocket of my robes and hold it in front of myself as I run to Lottie’s side. I make both sure both Lottie and Emjer are safe on the floor, out of the range of any gunfire.

  “Death to all Traitors!” a young Brune shouts and he is immediately tackled to the ground.

  A dozen guards surround us with large shields, protecting us. We are dragged back, out of the main room to a back exit and outside where there is a vehicle waiting.

  It is only a matter of minutes until we are back at the palace with dozens of soldiers escorting us inside.

  As soon as we are settled, I communicate with Serat by data screen. “What is happening?”

  Serat responds. “The assassin has been contained. We will investigate to know who else may be involved.”

  “Is the Prime dead?”

  “Most likely. He is on the way to the hospital.”

  “Tell me what is being done to secure the Palace.”

  Serat explains that several units of ground soldiers have been added to the palace security as well as air soldiers. “And the protestors?”

  “All the protestors around the palace will be evacuated.”

  “Excellent.”

  The next two days, the news gets only worse. The Prime is dead and there are riots and buildings burned throughout Capital City.

  There is an emergency meeting of the Assembly and a temporary Prime is appointed. There will be elections for a new Prime within a month, but for the moment, the temporary Prime has all the authority. I try to reach him, but he does not respond.

  I wonder if there may be some power outages affecting communication, but then there is a public announcement from the Assembly that the Royal Succession is under reconsideration.

  Brixing hell. What are they doing?

  And a few hours later, I learn what they are doing. The temporary Prime makes a viewing. He is standing next to Chell with eight other Assembly members behind them. He says, “As much as we regret the death of the prior Prime, we must now, as an Assembly, as Allathone’s ruling body, do what is best for the entire planet and our civilization. Brune Royalty has always been 100% Brune, and that is the way it should continue.

  “We hereby declare that Chell is the appropriate heir to the throne and will be the next King.”

  There is a viewing of thousands of people cheering in the streets.

  I try to reach Serat, but my data screen is not working.

  Suddenly there are loud sirens sounding throughout Capital City. We can hear them even with the windows closed.

  For a few minutes, the data screens are working again but all the data channels are overridden with a message from the First Commander Korak declaring martial law over Capital City and the surrounding provinces.

  The Assembly is hereby disbanded until furt
her notice. All port cities and intergalactic travel are shut down. The First Commander recommends that all citizens remain in their residences until further notice.

  Lottie comes to speak with me. “I don’t understand what is happening.”

  “Capital City is under martial law. The Royal Army is in control of the government.”

  “How can that happen?”

  “Because they have more weapons and manpower than anyone else.”

  I try to communicate with Korak on a secondary data channel, but none of the channels are functional. Serat sent me a message earlier to stay put, but now I can’t reach him, either.

  “What can we do?”

  “Fortify the palace and wait.”

  Lottie says, “I’m not a patient person. Waiting is dreadful.”

  I smile. “Theoretically, we could take a vehicle and fly to another province, outside the city. The Royal family has ten other estates, but I don’t want to run away and look like a coward.”

  Lottie says, “He who fights and runs away may live to fight another day. But he who is battle slain can never rise to fight again.”

  “Who said that – one of your humans?”

  “I can’t remember who said it, but I think it is a valid option.”

  I disagree. “A King shouldn’t run away. I should talk with the First Commander, and if we can’t come to an agreement, if he does not support me, then perhaps someone else should be King.”

  “Not Chell.”

  “I don’t think Chell will last very long if he does become king. Serat is probably plotting to install one of our distant cousins if I don’t survive.”

  Lottie says, “He would do that?”

  “He might. I didn’t suspect him at first, but now I even wonder if he killed the Queen.”

  Lottie is shocked. “He wouldn’t.”

  “I don’t know what Serat would do, if he thought it was for the good of the planet. The Queen was angry with me, threatening to change the laws of succession. And Serat doesn’t want Chell to rule.”

  “But would he commit murder?”

  “The Queen was already dying – very ill. Serat might have seen it as merely speeding up the process.”