The Colony Box Set

by J. D. Grayson

  “And we’ll free my wife,” he stressed.

  “That too,” she said in disinterest.

  “Cutting it all a little close, isn’t it? I say we go now.”

  “No...it’ll never work. We need the distraction...it’s our only chance.” The curvy brunette’s tone switched, as her mind appeared to be on something else. Approaching him like a cat in heat, she pressed her bulbous breasts against his hard chest. With a single kiss, her sexuality infected Dylan’s soul. “With no guarantee of tomorrow's victory, receive your reward tonight,” she said seductively.

  Their tongues spun, swapping sweet saliva. Having been denied her once, the desire grew greater. His hands roved her voluptuous hips, gliding the curves of her thick ass. He pressed her so tightly against his hard cock, he nearly impaled her skin. Aligning his round head at her wetness, he tried to enter her.

  She pulled away in a tease. “Come,” she said, leading him to her masked play toy, Jenna Smith. The mask was yanked off. Jenna’s golden blond hair swept the concrete floor. Each eye was dilated to marble size. Dylan was surprised at her resemblance to Alexa.

  Eden lined Dylan’s standing body to Jenna’s flipped form. His hard cock aimed for Jenna’s mouth in a 69 position. She opened wide, begging with sucking lips. The brunette goddess swung the chained captive into Mr. Hunter’s 9-inches. Catching it on the fly, she swallowed it whole. Inhaling it into her throat, she swayed along his rod, pushed like a swing. “Drink,” Eden told him, pressing his face towards Jenna’s vaginal chalice.

  Addressing Eden, Dylan said, “I was promised you!”

  “The show has just begun,” she teased, stopping her human swing. After gazing at the wet red slit, Dylan grasped onto Jenna’s thighs. Holding her in-place, he attacked Jenna’s sweet swollen snatch. Eden spread the slave’s lips for him, letting his tongue get its fix. The more he drank of her, the more he craved. Diving into her pink pool, he sucked her feminine wine, swallowing with desperate thirst.

  His mouth tingled, soul glowed within. He drilled deeper into her abyss. Jenna’s full lips tightened around his cock, seeping seas of fluid down his shaft. Eden smiled, leaning in to drink with Dylan. Spreading her play toy’s slit wider, she started at the anal star, licking her way upward. Slowly, she met Dylan’s tongue, spinning in a sensual song of pleasure. Together, they splashed in the fantastical fountain of foreplay.

  Expecting him to arrive that night, Eden filled her slave’s cavern with tainted wine. She poured so much inside, it saturated the folds. With nowhere to go for the rainy night, the two drifted into a hypnotic trance of paradox brew.

  They nearly sucked Jenna’s juices dry, even the natural ones. The sex slave’s curved body trembled in forced pleasure, trapped between the sexy subjects. However, her stuffed mouth continued its job. She sucked Dylan’s cock deeper and harder, almost swallowing his balls.

  Eden forced herself away from the poon punch. She pushed Mr. Hunter towards the bed, though he lunged back for the love potion. However, Eden’s allure stopped him. His cock was so erect, it nearly burst.

  The sexy siren shoved Dylan onto the bed, hopping on top of him. She reached for the corners, unleashing bed cuffs. Snapping Dylan’s wrists tightly, he lay in willing imprisonment. Clearly, she’d enjoyed head games.

  Eden went to her lagoon, wrapping a yellow, red, and brown snake around her neck. Next, she grabbed a lit candle from its wall base. She returned to the bed, placing the snakes on a reluctant Dylan’s body. They slowly slithered across his hard stomach. Every muscle tensed in dynamic definition. The serpent’s triangular heads worked their way to his neck, sliding under the pillow, emerging out the other side. Before he knew it, a rainbow of reptiles gently choked him. His breath flowed with restriction.

  Sizzling candle wax was poured upon his stiffened shaft. He gasped, yelling out, “Hot!” Before he could say more, the snakes stiffened their hold, quieting him.

  Eden grasped Dylan’s testicles, adding a pleasurable sensation to the mix. As his reddening face relaxed, the sexy succulent poured more hot wax on his sensitive cock. Landing directly upon the cock-head, the sizzling stream seeped downward. A hot sting teased the glands, making him swell and throb. As his shaft stung, she squeezed his testicles harder.

  He gasped for air, unsure if he wanted to beg for mercy or more. The cool air created a sculpture, casting a mold of his 9-inch monument. Peeling it from Dylan’s skin, Eden removed a cast, placing it aside. It would be added to her collection of trophy cocks.

  Leaning down, she cleansed his rod with sweet saliva. Stroking his strained skin, she bit his muscular thigh. Climbing with teeth, a trail of bite marks remained in his flesh. Arriving at his balls, she engulfed them in her mouth. Her tongue tickled from within, while her teeth gnawed on the manly knobs.

  The feeling was so sensitive, Dylan’s strong arms yanked at his restraints. He was unable to break away. Just before insanity, he was granted mercy. Eden released her mouth-trap, licking his cock upward. Swallowing the mushroom head, she sunk down upon it. Within moments, all 9-inches were devoured. Having handled Aionios for a while, it was no challenge.

  Dylan absorbed the warm wetness upon his manhood. Every mouth-stroke was expertly performed, as if pre-calculated beforehand. Her head moved rhythmically along his shaft, like a choreographed dancer in a deviant ballet.

  After sucking him for a while, she removed her mouth. Climbing towards his head, she squatted on his face. Already constricted by the serpents, Dylan’s breath was further tested. Eden’s taste and scent was so sweet, he’d have accepted a death by oral.

  Each drop of sexual honey rolled down Dylan’s throat. Gripping his hair, Eden rode his face. Writhing her hips in wide circles, she bathed him in feminine nectar. His tongue danced wildly inside her folds. Every inch was attended to, culminating in an inner fucking motion.

  Eden’s breath began to quicken. Her nipples grew, body quivered. Only Aionios can make me cum, she silently reminded herself. Orgasming from someone below her status, would cheapen her. At least, in her mind.

  As she rose from Dylan’s face, his tongue remained wiggling, plunging for more. Leaning inward, she replaced it with a kiss. Unlike Aionios, she had no problem with the act. Naturally selfish, she couldn’t love anyone but herself.

  She sucked every vaginal drop from his lips. After the essence ended, she licked the remnants off his cheeks, chin and nose. Rising up, she returned to his aching tool. Taking his cock-head in hand, she ran it against her velvet flesh. Pushing down upon it, Eden sunk to the cock base. She felt it swell inside her.

  It seemed to hit every spot perfectly. Not even Aionios’ weapon could do that. Placing her hands upon his six-pack abs, she rode him. Rising to the spear’s very tip, she crashed just as quickly. Impaling herself, her breasts flowed like ocean waves. Her moons crested and crashed with gravity’s command.

  The two connected eyes, something she liked to do with her conquests. She knew the victims would fall in love with her, do anything she asked. However, she’d never imagined it backfiring. Feeling love creep into her heart, she quickly turned her head away.

  Rising from his cock, she slid it an inch backward. Placing it against her experienced asshole, she forced him inside. Dylan shouted in pained pleasure, even scaring the snakes. Unwrapping themselves from his strained neck, the tangled serpents slid down his chest. They teased his sweaty flesh in torturous tickle.

  Needing it hard and fast, Eden took Dylan's cock for a rough ride. She landed upon him with merciless blows, crashing into his balls. The goddess’ tight anal rim squeezed Hunter’s cock like a murderous snake.

  Eden’s anal nerves burned with fire, enflaming her forbidden flume. All the while, the snakes arrived at Eden’s thighs. They slowly climbed her, tickling her clit along the way. Mr. Hunter watched in disbelief, as they worked their colorful trunks across her breasted peaks and valleys. Reaching her soft neck, they slid around the sphere. Feeling them constrict her throat, she rode Dylan harder wi
th each anal thrust.

  Mr. Hunter felt his hot cum rise. His balls tightened, toes formed fists. With one last anal crash, he grunted. Hunter unleashed a stream of hot white cum inside her boiling backend. Eden moaned in a feminine cry. The serpents tightened around her throat, adding an element of erotic asphyxiation.

  As much as she tried to fight it, she broke down. Her thick cheeks tensed with every orgasmic wave. Each burst milked another fresh stream from Dylan’s depths. She thought he’d never stop cumming.

  Eden’s body filled with hot chills, mind popped with colorful sparks. Struggling for breath, the choking sensation blasted her to new heights. She came down from her orgasmic high. Crashed upon Dylan’s chest, she rest her head upon it. The pythons continued to rove their bodies in free range.

  “Are you going to free me?” Dylan asked.

  “When I’m ready,” she said, shutting her eyes.

  Still stimulated with paradox, Mr. Hunter didn’t seemed to mind the wait. In fact, it provided the stamina to go five more times that night. They eventually drifted to sleep, listening to the falling rain upon the rocky roof. Dylan remained chained to the bed.

  *****

  Hours ticked by, the moment of truth had come. Dylan wore the red robe of the temple guards, cloaking himself in the hood. Eden placed the final touch upon his face. The creepy plastic mask concealed his identity.

  She turned towards the exit, saying, “Lead us to destiny.”

  Dylan gripped his bladed staff in one hand, securing Eden’s arm with the other. Exiting Eden’s lair, they surrendered all thought to fate. No matter what the outcome, their coup d'état would succeed or fail. They’d live or die. Either way, the reaping had begun. The colony would never be the same again.

  ###

  The Colony

  Part IV: Addicts

  (Finale)

  Part IV-Prologue

  600 B.C.

  Departing Southeast Asia, the red-faced savages sailed vast blue waters. Their longboats had little room for movement or comfort. A carved dragonhead decorated the bow. Each paddle slapped the sea in harsh unison, destination unknown. Miles and lives would be lost along the journey, many months spent. Crossing oceans, the search for conquerable land offered no option. Find it or die.

  Painted in masks of dried blood and powdered bone, the savages found many occupied islands. With each new discovery, they restocked provisions. Unfortunately for the locals, that included flesh and blood. The cannibals drank and ate their fill, gorging themselves to gestational limits. Like camels, they stored the food, holding urination to once a day, defecating once a week. Dried roots, berries, and speared raw fish was their sustenance of necessity, human flesh their meal of choice.

  Attacking only in darkness, they crashed shores with vigor. Rousing sleeping natives in grass beds, the cannibals sunk teeth into any living thing. Their religion promised the power and life of each consumption. Therefore, human meat was the true prize.

  As terrorized screams filled the air, native armies defended their lands. As the hunger for flesh was satisfied, the outnumbered cannibals fought their way back to the boats. They simply traveled to the next island prospect.

  Outlawed on their Asian continent, they escaped certain death. Believed to be demons, they were hunted and arrested for the crime of cannibalism. The fugitive band of 100 was imprisoned in a straw hut, doused with flammable liquid. A flaming torch was lit, watched by a hopeful crowd. Many of their relatives had died at the hands of such monsters.

  A guard stepped up to the straw hut, kissing it with fire. Suddenly, sets of hands punched through the weak walls. The guard was pulled inward, singed by an ocean of flames.

  Screams filled the air as terrified crowds fled. Guards swung their clubs at the savage outlaws, hitting frightened citizens instead. Panic overtook all authority. As guards watched the crowd eaten, their defense broke. Bound with rope, the prisoners’ escape was considered impossible. Of course, no one focused on their sharpened teeth. The binds were chewed-off in minutes.

  The escaped outlaws seized the village's longboats. Not knowing their destination, stories of Asian migration spanned generations. It sounded better than burning alive. Their long journey ended in the Polynesian triangle.

  After traveling through days of heavy fog, they began to think they were flying. Breaking through the wet white wall, the island appeared. A land of towering mountains, smooth-sanded beaches, and untamed landscape appealed to their wild ways. It was a primitive paradise.

  A male savage unleashed a high-pitched screech, displaying approval. The others followed in aggressive agreement. Ignorant to words, they communicated in pitches and tones. Action spoke loudest. Emulating their Neanderthal relatives, the primitive language was handed down.

  Landing on the island's Western side, they took shelter in the porous caves of red clay. Disappointed to only find wildlife, the lower life forms left their spirits malnourished. Needing to absorb human power, they held ceremonies in the cave depths.

  Stoking massive fires, rituals were performed. Teeth were sharpened by jagged rock, deadly fangs created. Drumbeat dances took place, lyrically driven by haunting squeals. Finally, the sacrifice was performed. With no locals to eat, they were forced to choose amongst each other.

  Female and male sacrifices were alternated per-week. Each victim was devoured raw, no roasting or seasoning required. The blood was consumed, bones immortalized in a sacred memorial. Nothing went to waste.

  As their numbers dwindled to 50, the group elder banned inner-tribe consumption, ordering procreation instead. Blood masks were replaced by cave clay. Daily sex assaults were performed. The rougher and more animalistic the sex, the more they believed conception would occur.

  Like animals, the men seized the nearest female, using her roughly. They started with an appetizer of aggressive anal sex. Performed in a simultaneous swarm, each male leapt upon their victim like a mating lion.

  Foreign to concepts of romance, they placed calloused feet upon a female's shaved head. Each savage plugged the backend with a stiff veiny cock. Propped in a doggie-style position, the women didn't fight their duty.

  Strained female cries evaporated into air. Pinned down like sex dolls, the girls were sodomized. The harder each female was banged, the harder their faces were pressed into ground.

  The male savages then withdrew, sliding into the vaginal slits. They forced their way into the birthing canals, wasting no time with ease. A frantic fucking began. Slapped skin echoed off the fire-lit cave walls. Crashing into tanned and toned cheeks, the men entered as deeply as possible. As soon as the urge called them, they unleashed their primitive seed.

  Once a sperm deposit was made, the men withdrew. They headed off to drink fermented berries. The women crawled into leaved beds, remaining with their asses in an optimal position. Pregnancy became life's only purpose.

  Within a year, the first island native was born. Its face was covered in clay upon rough delivery. Held into the air, a sea of high pitch praise followed. The first of many to come, there would eventually be enough to eat, keeping the population under control.

  Centuries later, their tastes would change. The first scent of white meat arrived in the mid-1700's AD. Five French explorers stepped foot on land, seeing a sole savage onshore. "Bonjour!" One explorer shouted, seeing the unclothed native run into a cave. Laughter exited their mouths, used to such intimidation. Relaxed and unafraid, the five Frenchmen followed the man.

  Entering the darkened tunnel, they dared to approach a distant orange glow. Arriving at the fire-source, the silhouetted native awaited them. The lead French explorer said, "No need to run away. We are your new fathers. No worry...we’re not going to eat you, friend." He laughed with his men.

  Suddenly, a high-pitched squeal sounded from behind. Attacked like raw meat in a wolf pen, 200 natives engulfed the five explorers. Sharpened teeth tore fresh white flesh, as the men were consumed to the bone. With a diet rich in cream and butter, the French appar
ently tasted good.

  Sharing the spoils, every native claimed a tiny piece of the stout foreigners. Tender and tasty, they excitingly awaited the return of more. Little did they realize, such men would one-day live beside them.

  Like livestock in a pen.

  Part IV-The Delivery

  Present Day

  Lilly’s pregnant body was strapped into a mobile gurney, rushed into the commune by masked surgeons. The crew wore scrubs, covered from head to toe. They raced the Canadian redhead to the medic station. She was rushed towards purpose.

  Hazed and hung-over citizens slept upon the beach, drunk from the prior night’s celebration. Rain fell throughout the daylight, not budging the exhausted bunch. Sundown approached. The reaping was nearing its official start. Drunken colonists were scattered around black sands like windblown trash.

  Lilly had been amongst them before her abduction. Awakened by an injected needle, she was sedated into a whirl of confusion. Any chance to call for help was quieted. She was secretly lifted onto the gurney. The medical team quickly wheeled her toward purpose. She wasn’t the only one taken.

  As the short sedation period ended, the Canadian's focus returned. Inside the commune, she realized her husband wasn’t with her. The pregnant redhead slurred, “Where’s Marco? I want him here with me! Is it time for the baby to be born? I don’t feel labor pains...why am I here? Marco, help!” she screamed.

  Ignored by the doctors, she was wheeled onward. Staring hopelessly at the commune entrance door, tears filled her eyes. A redheaded nurse snuck her hand onto the patient’s. Her gloved touch gently rubbed Lilly’s skin in comfort. The two connected eyes, teary pain was present in both.

  Sensing danger, Lilly cryptically thought, Goodbye, Marco. I love you. Suddenly, her dark-haired husband entered the doorway. Drunk and huffing breath, he fought exhaustion and inebriation to catch up to her. Paradox’s mind-numbing buzz couldn’t block their connection.