The Colony Box Set

by J. D. Grayson

  “Dylan?” Alexa asked, picturing her husband’s fading mental image. She craved Aionios’ cock like an addict seeking a fix, no one else mattered.

  The females were interrupted by the deity himself. “Woman! Come do your duty! Now!” he shouted at Eden. “You’re not to touch my property!”

  “I’m sorry, great Aionios,” Eden said frightfully, bowing to kiss his cock.

  The mere sight drove Alexa wild with jealousy. “He’s mine!” she screamed, lunging for Eden. The cuffs held her in place, nearly torn from the entrapment. She continued to writhe, yanking at the restraints. More than Paradox, her deep maternal needs were threatened. Unlike her husband, Aionios was willing to grant her wish.

  Angered by Alexa’s insubordinate behavior, Aionios entered the circle of candles. His strong hand smacked the blonde’s face, as he yelled, “I belong to no one! You all belong to me!”

  A tear spilled down her eye. However, her arousal only grew. “Yes, Aionios,” Alexa whispered from her quivering lips.

  Eden’s smirk shined brightly. Seeing the expression, Aionios slapped the goddess’ face next. Anger filled her, though no tears. Use to the treatment, her crying days had long past.

  “Come! Now!” he shouted, grabbing Eden’s arm. Dragging her behind him, he led them onto the balcony. Alexa’s body trembled in seed withdrawal. She craved more. The two women turned, staring at each other. They were competitors, yet could also be each other’s saviors.

  The sun had officially risen. Chants of, “Praise Aionios,” filled the air. The red robed guards blew out the candles. One night of ceremony expired, though Alexa would face many others.

  As the X-shaped rack was leveled, Alexa’s cuffs were unlocked. Pulled to her feet, she was carried to the gold dining table. Even sitting down, dizziness spun her heavy head. Her heart thumped so hard, she heard it beating in her ears. All she could think about was fucking Aionios again.

  Aionios returned to the table. Eden followed closely behind. The brunette stopped in place, seeing her seat filled by competition. “You’re in my chair,” she accused Alexa.

  Another hard slap crossed her cheek, sending her to the ground. Aionios shouted, “It’s my chair! My food! This is my temple!” he screamed in spoiled anger. “You will come for ceremonial purposes only. From this moment forth, you are relieved from all other duties.”

  The emotionally cold woman shed a tearful tempest, yet knew better than to complain. “Yes, great Aionios,” she said softly. An empowered expression bathed Aionios’ face. He loved nothing more than making women cry.

  “Leave us, woman,” he ordered.

  Eden headed for the exit, escorted by a guard. She took one last look at Alexa, realizing her worst fear was coming true. Having already been replaced at his table, she’d soon be replaced at his side. If Dylan didn’t wise up soon, she’d be burned at a stake.

  Once Eden left, the meal was delivered. They had poached quail eggs infused with brie and avocado. Though it was the chalice full of wine that interested Alexa. She grasped it with both hands, attacking the drink like a holy grail. Aionios watched, glad to let her indulge. He began eating, though was disturbed by the crashing cup.

  Alexa’s face dripped with wine. Her blond hair was disheveled, eyes burned with desire. She shook, trying not to attack her man. As sexually spent as Aionios was, his cock hardened again. Within moments, he announced, “Come to me!”

  Like a horny wildebeest, Alexa leapt upon the table. Wasting no time standing, she crawled toward him. Kneeling in the food, she knocked over everything to reach her deity. Her flight was so desperate, she dove for him. Sliding off the table’s edge, she landed on his black lap.

  Locking eyes, the two were face to face in a forbidden act. Alexa moved-in to kiss his full lips. He grabbed her throat, stopping the action in place. A kiss was emotional, not necessity. From a young age, he was brainwashed to avoid certain acts. Kissing was foremost amongst them.

  Aionios slid Alexa off his lap, forcing her upon knees. He pried her luscious lips open, impaling her wet warm mouth with the dark spear. She drank their shared juices from his saturated cock. After just a few sucks, he grasped her blond hair. Withdrawing his manhood, he spanked her face with his black paddle.

  Pushing her down to his balls, he forced the manly marbles into her mouth. The teabags filled her wet cavity, expanding with each suck. Alexa remained staring up at her dark knight. Her eyes were dilated and glossed. She sucked his balls so hard, they clogged her hungry throat.

  His massive member swayed, continuing to smack her pale face. Like an air pump, the harder Alexa inhaled, the more Aionios’ cock swelled. A stream of sweet saliva spilled from her lips, trickling down to his taint.

  Yanking her from him, he flung the remaining dishes from the table. Grabbing the cutie by her curved hips, he lifted her onto it. Shoved flat upon the surface, Alexa’s thick thighs rose, full breasts jiggled in throes of passion.

  The deity's 12-inches readied for another round. He plunged into her creamy chasm, grasping her white throat with one hand. Alexa felt dark fingers pinch her nipple with the other. Aionios’ strong legs forced the breeding vessel’s soft thighs to spread. As his stiff skin chafed her smoothness, his endless arrow struck her swollen target.

  The curvaceous blond squealed, feeling him mercilessly prick her. Aionios’ veiny offering shucked Alexa’s pink oyster. Air dissipated from her lungs, choked by powerful hands. Her eyes gently rolled backward.

  With less air and blood flow to her brain, Alexa sizzled in erotic asphyxiation. Chills crawled across her inner-skin, pin and needle pokes stimulated her head. Her body trembled, losing all functional control. The black cock banging, pinched nipple pulling, and throat choking, electrified her heightened libido.

  As the blond bombshell neared fainting, she shook in violent orgasm. Her body convulsed on the golden surface. In process of blacking out, she squirted clear liquid from within. The G-spot fluid was sticky and sweet, soaking Aionios’ lower half. Alexa’s eyes continued to roll up into her head, as she struggled for breath.

  Just when she blacked out, her throat was released. She remained unconscious for a few moments, though Aionios refused to stop. He’d done it enough times to Eden, knowing slumber was temporary. His idle hand pinched the other nipple. Alexa gasped, waking with violent breath.

  Aionios rammed her box harder. Stretching both red tips far from their base, he alternated to a stiff breast slapping. The sexual bulbs were stimulated beyond belief. Tired of having to do work, he paused, demanding, “You bang me!”

  Obeying the command, Alexa tapped her last energy reserves. Hurling her ass cheeks into him, she impaled herself with his divine knife. Her face tightened, feeling her snatch swelled by his sex. With each vaginal landing, sprays of pleasure erupted from her sopping sponge.

  Awash in lust juice, Aionios’ dark hands grabbed the blond’s breasts. He squeezed them like crumbled paper wads. The painful pleasure sent Alexa over the edge again. Pausing in flight, she cried out in sexual bliss.

  Aionios released his own shout, grunting from the tense vaginal grasp. Yet another load was released into the velvet tunnel, injected into the chosen womb. He stared at the blond beauty, seeing her face tense from his offering.

  In reality, the madman was exactly the kind of alpha Alexa wished for. No man had been capable of pleasing her sadistic sexual needs 24-7. The drugged libido-boost only added to her addiction. Void of rational thought, she failed to understand the danger of getting one’s wish. Unchecked desires could deliver deadly results.

  As her orgasm calmed, her blue eyes opened. She dared to connect gazes again. Her heart still loved Dylan, though her weakened mind had already rejected him. The deity studied the look in her eyes. Pure need stared back. She didn’t love him yet, though he wouldn’t have recognized it anyway. Aionios would never know that emotion. The lash of a whip had trained him well in his upbringing.

  Grasping her throat again, he warned, “One last time!
Do not look upon me woman! I’ll end you!”

  “Yes, Aionios,” she whispered, staring away. The reason why kissing and eye contact were banned became clear to her. They were passages to the heart, bridges to a soul. The one who controlled Aionios, controlled the colony’s fate. Luckily for Raymond Freedmen, the deity was consumed with himself.

  However, the sexual partners remained united in a pursuit of pregnancy. Their reasons greatly set them apart. While Alexa wanted to create life, Aionios wanted to end it.

  The holy prophecy would serve them both.

  Part III-Puppets

  Two Weeks Later

  Dr. Raymond Freedmen entered a lavish boardroom. A team of suited men sat at a crystal conference table. Marble floors and red leather chairs decorated the place. A trendy overpriced light provided dim illumination. There were no windows to peer in from.

  Each man was searched before entering, ensuring no recording equipment was present. The suited men stood in reverence, honoring their leader. Each one was a psychologist like Raymond, knowing their place in Freedmen’s system. They were at his mercy and his feet. Although their strings were thinner than colonists, they were all puppets in a global show.

  Arriving at the table’s head, the therapist paused to admire their respect. Having seen it many times before, he’d never get enough praise to fade his father’s shadow. He had the elder man’s ambition, surpassing in vision and intelligence.

  Continuing to make his colleagues stand, he basked in the simple control of it. He still heard his father’s voice, “Like puppets...everyone has a place on our stage, a time to enter...a time to exit. The moment they become expendable...they die.”

  Since Ivan’s death, the show was Raymond’s alone. Nothing was left untouched by his hand. First the funds were allocated higher to himself. Then he grew the security force, stopping the excessive escape of civilians.

  The therapist ran each casting session, handpicking each new Aionios babies from small African villages. Raised from youth, the kids’ minds were trained, faces underwent plastic surgery. No detail was denied. Their bodies were crafted to exaction, down to the original’s scars and blemishes. Each Eden also faced the 16-hour procedure.

  Building off his father’s chemist’s creations, Paradox was perfected. He hired the brightest scientists money could buy, tweaking the formula. The weak-minded were most susceptible. If they were told they dreamed a murder, they believed it. As long as they got their fix, they’d stay gullible.

  Dr. Freedmen addressed the men. “Gentlemen, I didn’t expect to call a meeting so soon. However, something’s come to my attention. I’d like a vote on the matter.” Raymond finally sat down at the table’s head. No one occupied the opposite end.

  “Yes, sir,” the men said submissively.

  Freedmen turned towards a newly placed accountant. “Before we address that matter...are the Hunter’s assets liquidated yet?”

  The accountant answered, “All funds were transferred out of their accounts into ours, savings and daily. They rented, we got the security deposit. I did discover Mr. Hunter’s name in an uncle’s will...though he’s not dead yet. They took public transportation, no personal vehicles. Overall, not a great catch,” he said in a snotty voice.

  A hidden twinge of anger filled Raymond’s body, though he retained his cool. “Mark my words. The treasure the Hunter’s will produce...will change our fortunes...forever.” The accountant rolled his eyes. Mr. Freedmen continued, “To the matter at hand. I’ve received word...Aionios has taken a liking to Mrs. Hunter. More importantly...he’s banned our staff from entering the temple rock. It’s been a few weeks.”

  “Why?” the accountant shouted out. The psychology group stared in shock. Unlike him, they weren’t new on the job.

  After a pause, Mr. Freedmen removed his glasses, looking the man in the eye. “He won’t let her out...until the prophecy is fulfilled. Until his chosen one...is seeded.”

  The accountant laughed, having been told of the legend and its falsehood. Freedmen’s fellow psychs didn’t dare join. Tenseness crossed every man’s face. It continued until Raymond joined in the act. The men were reluctant to follow him, though finally added their laughter to the mix.

  The accountant obnoxiously added, “The bitch is on birth control!”

  Freedmen’s smile slowly faded, darkness crossed his face. He stood, walking behind the accountant. Seeing the anger, the other shrinks’ laughter came to a dead stop. The new employee’s cackle echoed off the walls.

  Whack! His laughter was replaced by the smacking of his head. Crashing into the crystal slab, one hard blow followed another. Dr. Freedmen grabbed the accountant by the neck, hurling the man’s face into the surface. A head gash formed, blood flowed out onto the table. Drool spilled from Raymond’s mouth, frothing with fury.

  As the accountant’s facial structure shattered, Dr. Freedmen finally stopped. He calmly returned to his seat. Leaving the specks of blood upon his face, he asked, “Does anyone have something to add?”

  Everyone stared downward, seeing the growing red sea seep towards them. They wouldn’t look at Raymond. It was the same reason, no one had ever dared spill his secrets.

  Mr. Freedmen continued on, “We need majority vote. I say we send in Commander Grey...a man Aionios trusts. Joined by a medical aid with birth control, he’ll also carry an ultimatum. Cooperate...or eternity awaits. We have other gods in the bullpen. All those in favor...raise your hands,” he said, raising his own hand.

  The board members followed his lead. A smile returned to Raymond’s face as he unsurprisingly announced, “The vote is unanimous. I’ll inform Commander Grey.”

  *****

  Gunner and Rudd crept to the edge of the colony’s electric gates. The gray haired man agreed to show his guest the hotspots and weak points. Though he was clear, no further help was coming after that.

  Rudd pointed to fuses on the outer fence. “These lead to the underground power grid. You can’t access it...though can short out entire sections. Like Christmas lights...one bulb burns...a group dies.”

  “Now we’re talking, mate. It’s possible to do without electrocution?”

  “With the right wire cutters, yeah. Good luck finding a pair. There’s not exactly a Sears and Roebucks around.”

  “Sears? Mate, even Brits knows Sears is spent! Total shite! Where you been? On an island or something?”

  “Really? Damn! Next you’ll tell me the Rolling Stones are still alive.”

  “That’s debatable...especially Keith Richards. There’s rumors they prop his corpse on stage with a smoke...pipe in a guitar track”

  “Well, I’ll be damned. Anyway...if it suits you better...you won’t find a popular American hardware store on the island.”

  “Does the hardware store have to be American?”

  “Wise ass limey,” Rudd said with a smirk.

  “Just YANKin’ your chain,” Gunner stressed. “Bottom line...if I can sever this hot wire...without getting snogged by lightning, I’m in?”

  “Technically, yeah. The question is...what you’ll do inside. These guards are armed to the teeth.” Suddenly, the sound of rising steel interrupted them. “Down!” Rudd whispered, leading Smith into a kneel.

  Although it was dark and distant, Johnny Rudder knew exactly what was happening. Commander Grey led a team of twenty guards outward. The camouflaged mercenaries trampled the ferns, carrying AK-47s into a darkened western forest.

  Gunner whispered, “I thought their hunts stopped?”

  “So did I,” Rudd said in concern. The two men trailed the guards, keeping a close eye on their location. Maintaining constant distance, they let the commander lead the way.

  A tense Frederick Grey crept through the dark forest, sickened with every step. Dr. Freedmen’s recent order kept playing in the commander’s head. “The days of ceding land are over. Have your men resume the hunt...clear out the scum. All of it. You’ll lead them personally,” Freedmen demanded in the conference call. />
  An easy task for tough men like Grey, it was a living nightmare from his past. He turned to his guards. “Stay spread...it’ll make us less easy to eat,” he quietly ordered the fearful mercenaries. Those particular men never tread that ground, but heard rumors of their commander's horror.

  Rumors would never match the terror Fredrick faced. Years ago, he was attacked on a group hunt. Knocked unconscious, he was dragged into one of the pits. Awakening inside a lair, he’d been buried beneath a pile of his brethren. Panic filled him, climbing levels of fresh meat. With every inch, a familiar face stared back. At least the ones that weren’t already skinned.

  Bursting from the human grave, he fell upon an AK-47. His loud landing disturbed the air. Grabbing hold of the gun, his fingers had been chewed upon. Sore and torn, they were too raw to push down.

  The red-faced natives rushed into the sectioned-off lava tube. Charging Commander Grey with fury, their mouths were opened. Each tooth was hand-sharpened, hungering for flesh.

  Fredrick pressed the trigger, though his injured finger was too hurt to fire. He tried a second, still not enough. By the time he could add a third, the cannibals piled on him. They bit into his scalp, neck, and head. Frozen with fear, Grey nearly had a heart attack. However, before flesh was torn, he forced the trigger down.

  A hail of automatic gunfire tore through the natives’ bodies. Full of holes, they erupted from the commander’s base like a vomiting volcano. He rose, moving towards the main lava tube.

  Fredrick mowed the charging savages down with gunfire. Emptying of ammo, he was led by adrenaline. Fighting his way through hordes of others, Grey swung his rifle-butt. Red skulls smashed in pairs.

  Numbed to feeling, sight, and direction he let madness guide him. Even after the last assailant was gone, he still swung at air. Exiting the cave at the shoreline, he headed for forestland.

  Mr. Grey’s weapon smashed trees, shattered rocks, and swung at phantom ghosts. Having only killed a few natives, thousands more lived. Luckily for him, they never appeared. He arrived back at the colony, swinging at a search squad.