The Colony Box Set

by J. D. Grayson

  Grabbing her by the pear-shaped hips, he lifted her onto her knees, doggie-style position. There was just enough strap length to allow it. Hurling his hand towards her curved ass cheeks, a loud crack filled the air. Alexa gasped, surprised at the immediate strength and pressure.

  A harder spanking followed. With each crackling, a new handprint covered her human canvas. The punishment got quicker, more intense. Her soft ass rippled from the force of his dominance.

  The sound of skin echoed through Dylan’s ears, followed by a lustful moan. He turned towards the TV, seeing the blond beaten with her Dom’s belt. The porn star lost composure, forced to submit. It’s the only way she’ll respect me, he assured himself.

  The tinned unbuckling of his belt jingled in Alexa’s ears. She waited in disbelief. Does he really have the balls to spank me with that? She wondered.

  Dylan’s sweaty hands slid along the smooth leather, tested against his hand. He decided to wait, letting his wife stew in wonderment. In fact, he waited until she begged.

  As the minutes ticked, Alexa finally gave in. “Please, beat me already!”

  “Call me, master!”

  She gasped, never expecting to hear those words from him. “Please, beat me...master! I beg you.”

  Dylan’s teeth gnashed as his hand yielded the leather belt. Showing no mercy, the sound of smacked skin filled the air. Emulating the TV blonde’s pleasurable cry, Alexa’s soft body went hard, stiffening. Every curve in her body tightened, awaiting the next blow.

  Mr. Hunter waited again, letting her ovary oven heat up. “Beg more!”

  “Please...beat me hard, master,” she said in a trembling voice. The strong, confident woman was reduced to a young girl begging for candy.

  Dylan hurled another lashing, stringing a red line across her curved wonderland. Thomas’ arrogant face flashed in his mind, filling Mr. Hunter with deeper aggression. He hurled another whipping across her round mounds.

  The lashings got harder; Alexa’s cries got lustier. Dylan began an assault of endless beatings, shouting, “You’re my property...not his!” Upon those very words, he landed the hardest blow of the night.

  Alexa’s strong-will broke. Her doggie-style formation collapsed, causing her soft breasts to flatten into the mattress. Dylan got scared, hearing her sob with tears. Though at the same moment, her body shook with orgasm. Her thighs tightened, clit rubbed against the soft cloth.

  As hard as it was for Dylan to believe, his wife orgasmed from his strong hand. However, it wasn’t enough to calm the fury. As Alexa’s body and tears began to calm, he removed his shirt.

  The window light struck his hard, hairless body. Unclasping his pants, he flung them down, kicked them away. His hard 9-inch cock sprung out. It throbbed with pleasure, swelled with angry veins. Studying her red ass cheeks, an overwhelming desire filled him.

  Before he could enact it, Alexa shouted, “Take my ass. Make it yours.”

  He crawled between her moist thighs, spreading her heavens from behind. Dipping his head down below, his stiffened tongue parted her silk valley. Drenched with her pleasure, his red dart spun in dizzying circles, fucking her pink with his mouth. Having not performed oral before, the sweet taste was a foreign delicacy.

  Beads of lust spilled down his cheeks, face awash in sticky satisfaction. A tingling tickle filled her coral castle, feeling his lips mercilessly suck on her labia. She writhed in pleasure, pulling at her restraints in helpless strain. The deeper he swam, the further his nose teased her anal star.

  Feeling her body tighten, his tongue ventured upward. Traveling the forbidden highway, he arrived at her tight asshole. He rimmed the anus in quick circles. Partially penetrating it, his tensed tongue dared him to take her anally. In reality, it was more than a desire. It was a desperate need. He tried to forget that its virginity belonged to Thomas. That fact haunted him to the moment.

  Withdrawing his tongue, he angrily thrust his cock head against her sphincter. He wanted to jam it in, claim the territory by force. However, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. A wall of personal shame blocked his entrance. Angry about his inability, he slid down the soppy slit, opting for her vagina instead.

  Alexa gasped in disappointment. She needed her husband’s anal authority as much as he needed to declare it. The intimacy and trust created, could’ve resurrected their marriage, healing a gaping wound. Neither wouldn’t be cured on that night.

  The denial made Alexa feel dirty, unwanted, and unlovable. Like a cursed soul, she wouldn’t feel redeemed until he claimed every part of her. Dylan wasn’t even sure if he wanted redemption for her. As long as I wear these chains, she will too.

  Ignoring her disappointed sigh, he buried his spear inside her. The sticky lips clung to his cock, covered in human glue. He’d never felt her so turned on. Taking hold of the womanly hips, he thrust into her with rage. Her body was forced into pleasure, introduced to a sexual aggression thought impossible. At least, impossible from her husband.

  The thrust turned into pounds, as his thickness crashed into her cervix wall. Every inch of her was filled, stretched to new limits. His muscular chest rested upon her back, continuing the vaginal battering ram.

  Having not cum inside her since the affair, Dylan felt his rod swell with warning. Alexa’s velvet blanket heaved around his cock, indicating she was as close. His ground and pound style picked up speed and intensity. Her body violently shook with each bang. Every thrust spanned the depth of her canal, culminating in the hardest crash of all.

  Both voices cried out in a chorus of cum. Alexa’s cheeks tightened, letting her thighs and vaginal muscles choke her husband's intruder. Dylan fired a massive load of white lightning. It was so forceful, the splattering sperm coated her entire cavern, frosting her cervix.

  Mr. Hunter knew pregnancy wasn't possible, since she wasn’t ovulating. As Alexa’s last spasm induced Dylan’s last spurt, he collapsed upon her back. Reaching for her wrist cuff, he went to free her.

  “Don’t!” Alexa insisted. “Leave me like this...stay on top of me. Let me feel your strength, your desire.”

  Dylan wrapped arms around his bound, curvy wife. The two spooned, taking a step closer to repairing their damaged love. His cock slowly receded from her hole, followed by a sea of sperm. The two basked in marital bliss. It was a feeling they never expected to feel again.

  At that very moment, the TV porn scene ended, quickly followed by another. A younger Adam and Eve appeared on screen. They performed a similar sex scene to the Hunters.

  It was filmed in the same room, recorded by the same camera.

  *****

  After a shared shower, the couple toured their new homeland. The island’s radiant beauty helped dull any worries. More importantly, it made them happy to trade-in the city life they once lived.

  Continuing upon the boardwalk, the nude hosts led them to the south side. Forestland was cleared for crops and livestock. Everything was bordered inside the electric fence.

  Pens of pigs, chickens, and lamb awaited the citizens’ plates. Straight rows of plants stretched for miles. They featured broccoli, carrots, cauliflower, cucumbers, eggplant, lettuce, onions, peas, peppers, potatoes, soybeans, squash, sweet corn, sweet potatoes, and tomatoes.

  “It’s never ending,” Alexa said in wonderment.

  “Quite a sight,” an impressed Dylan said. “Who does this belong to?”

  “You,” Eve answered. “Both of you. Both of us. All of your brethren and sisters. Here...we share everything.”

  “Who plants it all?” Alexa asked.

  Adam said, “Who ever eats the food, grows the food.”

  “Our thumbs aren’t exactly...green,” Dylan said.

  “Not to worry,” Adam ensured. “Whatever your ability is...it will serve another’s need.”

  Dylan’s skepticism crept back, having heard similar words in history books. Before he could address it, his attention was turned to the orchids. Rows of papaya, banana and mango trees filled the sandy soil. End
less pineapple and strawberry plants also dotted the landscape. Each fruit was blemish free, specimens of perfection.

  Alexa reached for a low hanging mango, though Eve’s hand stopped her. “Never take from the garden unless permitted,” she said in bold seriousness.

  “What happens if she does?” Dylan asked.

  “Since you’ve been warned...there’s no reason to address it further,” Eve said, leading them away. Adam followed, as the Hunters’ imaginations were left to guess.

  Next, they visited the island’s pristine southern beaches. The sands were so white, they appeared bleached. Underfoot, it felt like walking on pillows of cotton. Ultra blue waters were free from green, stretching out in between two of the craggy mountains.

  The Hunters’ blue eyes sparkled with delight, soaking in the beauty. “This truly is paradise,” Alexa said, as Dylan stared at her. She stared back at him. Something was in her eyes he’d never seen. There was a passion for life. More importantly, there was a passion for him. All her wishes were coming true. “This is a place...I could spend eternity,” she said.

  Despite his skepticism, her happiness outweighed it. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, Dylan finally felt alive too. He’d even sacrifice his freedom for it. “I can as well,” he said, taking her hand.

  Adam and Eve watched in silent satisfaction. The closer the couple was, the more sex they’d have. The more sex they’d have, the greater likelihood of pregnancy. The greater chance of pregnancy, the longer the colony would survive.

  *****

  The final stop was the island’s east side, bypassing the west side completely. Gates of pure pearl shined in the sun’s glare, blocking miles of land access. Dylan approached in disbelief, seeing a spectacular sight. A massive mansion stretched along the rocky high ground, overlooking black sand beaches. It could house one hundred people.

  What captivated him most wasn’t manmade, but one of pure rock. One of the volcanic mountains was different than the rest. It formed a perfect triangle, emulating a temple. An infinity symbol was carved into the rock face. A gold bridge connected land and water, leading directly to a chiseled doorway. It was clearly a sacred structure.

  Right before touching the pearled gates, Dylan stopped, gazing back at his hosts. He was learning quickly. Adam nodded, granting permission. “You may touch them.”

  Mr. Hunter ran his hands upon the smooth pearl. Alexa joined him, though her amazement wasn’t the gate. It’s what lied beyond it. “Can we...enter?” she asked.

  Eve stated, “That land belongs to the spiritually cleansed. Only to those who’ve taken the second step towards eternity.”

  “Will we take that step?” Dylan asked.

  “The opportunity to join us...will soon be yours.”

  Part I-The Second Step

  “Open up, mate! Your life depends on it!” a frantic British accent yelled from outside.

  Dylan and Alexa jolted from a slumber, stiff in their bed. The couple hadn’t enjoyed a proper night’s sleep in years. Until the disturbance, it appeared they were going to get one.

  A fist pounded the door in desperation. Rising from the mattress, Dylan looked at his wife in concern. “Should I open the door?”

  “I...don’t know. He sounds...serious, yet disturbed.”

  “Well...which one does he sound more?” he asked.

  “Disturbed,” she nervously answered.

  Dylan crept closer to the door, placing his ear against it. “Who are you? What do you want?”

  “Mate...you’ve got seconds left! I escaped...you can too!”

  A disturbed Dylan took a deep breath, debating his decision.

  “Don’t do it,” Alexa declared. “He sounds crazy.”

  The fist pounded the door again, nearly knocking it from the hinges. “Don’t be daft, Hunter! At least hear me out, mate!”

  Hearing his last name mentioned, Dylan opened the door. A strong, naked, fair-skinned man spilled into the room. His name was Gunner Smith. He had a Beckham style buzz-cut, blond hair and a Union Jack tattoo on his arm. The flag was back dropped by two swords, hinting at a military background.

  A half eaten banana fell from his hand. Sweat poured from his head, dirt covered his body. Dylan lifted the man to his feet, met by a crazed look in strangely dilated eyes. His ankle was bleeding.

  “Are you, OK?” Dylan asked.

  The sound of hungry dogs echoed in the distance.

  Ignoring his injury, the man slammed the door closed. “They know I’m here...it’s done for me! Save yourself...your wife.”

  “Calm down. What’s your name?”

  “Feck my name, mate...hear my words. These people are evil, I tell you.”

  “He’s trembling!” Alexa shouted, seeing the man’s body jitter. “He’s obviously high on drugs!”

  Dylan placed a hand on the man’s shoulder. “Relax, man. We’ll get help from...whoever’s in-charge around here. Tell me...who’s chasing you?”

  “Don’t you see, Yank? The people chasing me are in charge. They took my wife...took everything!”

  “Name’s Dylan...not Yank.”

  “Are you fecking deaf?”

  “Feck? Do you mean fuck?”

  Gunner Smith grabbed Dylan by the arms. “Don’t enter those gates! Run...for the west side! After a rain...a small space erodes the fence dirt. Hide out! Resist their temptation!”

  The barking dogs got louder.

  “Help us! He’s in here!” a spooked Alexa yelled out. Returning her attention to Dylan, she said, “They’ll think we’re hiding him!”

  Dylan tried to maintain focus. “How can we help you? We just got here...don’t know anyone...anything.”

  A sudden calm came over the British man, as a realization hit him. “I’m a dead man. If you escape...tell the outside world about this place. Surrender your mind...and you’ll surrender your soul.”

  “You keep talking in riddles!” Dylan shouted, as bloodthirsty dogs scratched the door’s exterior.

  “Gunner Smith! Come out and you’ll receive mercy. Don’t make us come in,” a harsh, raspy voice sounded.

  Mr. Smith grabbed Dylan’s head, staring directly at him. It seemed the man’s eyeballs grew even bigger. “Remember...they’re always watching you,” Gunner whispered, turning Dylan’s head towards a series of separate wall mirrors.

  The exterior raspy voice sounded again. “On the count of three...my offer of kindness is rescinded. One...two...”

  Taking a deep breath, the look of life faded from Gunner’s face. He opened the door, as a man in camouflage fatigues said, “Three.” A squad of five German Shepherds leapt at the Gunner. “Cuff him.”

  Gunner charged them like a madman on a suicide mission. Five island guards wrestled the fugitive to the ground. Two men used a Taser on the captive, though his body continued to flail. One stepped on his head, while the others snapped a pair of steel cuffs on his wrists. As the captors dragged him away, he lunged again, shouting, “Tonight...is your last chance!”

  One guard remained. He wore a pin with the infinity symbol, ∞. “Dylan Hunter, I presume.” Alexa joined his side. “And his beautiful wife, Alexa,” he said, gazing over her beauty like a starved wolf.

  The couple nodded in unison. “You know us...we don’t know you,” Dylan said suspiciously.

  “You’re not supposed to know me. Unfortunately, our friend chose to break the rules.” The man in camouflage extended his leather-gloved hand. Dylan shook it. “I’m commander Fredrick Grey. I head the island’s security.”

  Dylan’s squinted in surprise. “Security? Who exactly does paradise need protection from?”

  “The problem isn’t with paradise, Mr. Hunter. The problem is with people. People like Mr. Smith need protection from themselves,” he said, holding out a tiny, reddish root.

  “What’s that?”

  “Paradox. A unique root to this island. It can bring the highest high. Misused...the most demented low. Side effects are paranoia...mistrust...crazy t
alk of conspiracies, sheer madness...everything that man displayed. We don’t tolerate that behavior around here. What exactly did he tell you?”

  Dylan paused, thinking before revealing. “He just rambled...about fruit. Bananas to be exact. I assume he stole it.”

  “He overdosed...nothing more. I’d forget about this unfortunate mishap...speak nothing of it. In fact, forget you met me at all...along with Mr. Gunner Smith.”

  “He told me nothing else,” Dylan said with conviction.

  “Did I accuse you of asking?” Commander Grey suspiciously questioned.

  “No.”

  “Then we’re done here. Get back to bed. Behave yourselves...and it’ll be the last you see of me,” he said, flashing a wicked grin, turning to exit.

  Dylan yelled one last thing. “That man...uh, Gunner. What happens to him now?”

  Commander Fredrick Grey stopped, not bothering to turn back around. “He will be cured of his addiction...returned to his old life. Once a cleansed person’s been tainted, there’s no coming back.”

  “He’s going home?” Dylan asked.

  “Yes,” the commander said coldly.

  Alexa stood at her husband’s side. “Be sure to stay away from that root...what did he call it?”

  Missing the question completely, Dylan asked, “Do you think that Brit was telling the truth?”

  “Did you see his eyes? He was drugged out of his mind. Come back to bed,” she said, kissing his cheek.

  Dylan nodded, However, his thoughts weren’t as agreeable. There was definitely something strange in Gunner Smith’s eyes. I just hope it wasn’t truth.

  *****

  Gunner Smith was dragged two miles kicked and punched along the trip. A trail of blood followed him, washed away by a fresh rain. As they arrived at the island’s Western fence, five steel-toed boots crashed into Gunner Smith’s ribs. His face was bruised, bloodied and bashed. He spit a molar from his mouth, gasping for air.

  “Stop!” Commander Fredrick Grey insisted.

  His men stood at attention. As the bald commander kneeled down, it appeared Gunner might get a reprieve from his death sentence. The hope was short lived. “I’ll give you credit...you got farther than many before you. Though, it always ends the same...in a nameless grave.” Fredrick grabbed hold of a steel baton, tightening his grip. “By tomorrow...your wife will be a communal whore.”