A second door removed another empty cell. Finally, with the third door opened he found the human prisoners sitting on benches. Simla jumped up and enthusiastically embraced him.
“Shap!” she cried, “You came for me.”
“Uh, wrong hero, honey,” Yaf said.
XVI
The following day the Great Father sent this message to the Riaz.
‘Know this, we have destroyed your fleet. Your attempt to enslave us has failed. We have taken many captives, they will be returned to you. We humans do not relish conflict, but when we are threatened we respond with the fury of our barbaric ancestors. Remain within your space and do not approach us, save with friendship in your hearts, or we will surely burn you from your homes and end your existence. You are not the strongest or wisest race in this vast universe. Neither are we. It behooves you to know your place. We wish you no ill will and make no demands upon you. The foolishness of spilling each other’s blood must end. Treat us with dignity and we shall respond in kind.’
The warships of the Twelve Worlds left the orbit of Old Earth and returned to their home planets and men, called to the colours, became once again carpenters and glaziers, bakers and bricklayers. They would remember their days in uniform, however, and humanity would never again become a victim of ennui. Scientific progress and expansion would be encouraged. A Central Military Command would be formed to defend all the worlds with modern warships, and android armies would be built and put into storage while their human masters practised in powered armor. Never again would the human race face a deadly enemy unprepared.
The star-yacht Yafla coasted through the corona of a distant sun and Simla stood up from the command chair and handed the controls over to Shap. She wandered over to the view port and gazed out at the myriad of stars flashing by, stars that had never been seen by human eyes before. She missed Old Earth, but space was where she truly belonged, where she truly felt at ease and at one with herself. Inside her new life bloomed. Elfi had only been half right, for if life had the ability to kill love, it still required love to create life.
She felt a hand slip under her leather kilt and onto her ass, to slowly caress the firm mounds. She turned her head and said, “Excuse me, sir, but I think you should desist, I am a married woman after all.”
Yaf grinned and kissed her cheek before putting his hands around her waist and squeezing her tightly to him. “My apologies for my daring, sweet Princess.”
But she was no longer a Princess, she’d abdicated the title when she became Yaf’s wife. It did not make her unhappy to tell the truth, being simply, Simla of Old Earth.
END
Check out Sally Hollister’s other erotica books as well –
Husband Approves
I. MILF
Married But Willing
The Secret Letters of Two Naughty Victorian Sisters
Little Red Riding Nude & Other Naughty Bedtime Stories
The Erotic Roleplay Book
Slut Trek
Confessions of a Shared Wife
The Hot Wife Chronicles
Diary of a MILF
Confessions of a Cheating Wife
Wife Watching
What Wifey Wants
Swinger Central
Sex, the Stars & Princess Simla Page 17