The Colony Box Set

by J. D. Grayson

  Jenna watched in apprehension. She’d seen women explore each other in the commune. However, she never tried it herself. Having no choice, she’d have to engage Alexa’s most intimate areas.

  Seeing Jenna pause, the Latina servant forced the new blonde’s hand below the water. Making eye contact with Alexa, the Brit saw blankness stare back. As Jenna’s hand was placed upon Mrs. Hunter’s pink paradise, a hint of life returned to those glossy eyes.

  A pleasurable gasp sounded from Alexa’s heavy lungs. An inner warmth made her polished skin glow. Although Jenna’s hand was forced into a circular motion, it began to guide itself. The brunette Latina returned to washing the left breast.

  Sliding upward, the redheaded servant soaked Alexa’s soft neck. She stroked the chosen one’s shoulder blades, cleansing the beautiful face. While the redhead traced pale arms, the Latina’s sponge sailed downward.

  The spicy brunette washed Mrs. Hunter’s belly, encircling the backside. Squeezing a river of soap down Alexa’s hind curves, she slipped her sponge between the sexy blonde’s ass cheeks.

  Alexa’s breath picked up intensity. Although thoughts weren’t plentiful within the drugged state of mind, all feelings and desires were amplified. She shut her soapy eyes, feeling the wet sponge sneak inside her hole.

  All the while, Jenna Smith continued her gentle clit cleansing. With each spin, the sponge crept into the smooth vaginal lips. Sucked into the gaping chasm, it formed a foam shaft, expanding by the moment.

  The redhead returned to washing Alexa’s stiff nipples, inverting each one. The triple stimulation made Mrs. Hunter weak in the knees. She trembled in gentle orgasm, matching the dainty touch of her servants.

  After the pleasure subsided, the redhead and brunette dunked Alexa under the water. Washing the soap away, they pulled her back up. Baptized in liquid salt, the girls moved to Jenna, taking hold of her pale arms.

  “What are you doing to me?” Jenna asked.

  She was the one dunked next. Floated forward by the two girls, her mouth was led to Alexa’s watery clit. Unable to fight them, her face was buried into the sweet submerged slit. Fighting a flowing sea, she found shelter inside Alexa’s velvet cave.

  Her tongue reached outward, swirling faster than any jet. Even salted, Jenna tasted Mrs. Smith’s feminine sugar on her buds. Feeling the servants remove their hold, the Blond Brit stayed buried by choice.

  Above the water, Alexa’s soft moans filled the air. The energy and passion in Jenna’s hungry mouth was surreal. Of course, the redheaded and Latina servants’ breast suckling added to it. They flipped their tongues upon the stiff darts, alternating between sucks and bites.

  They slid up the pale C-cups, licking the droplets from skin. Both their tongues stayed in line, leaving a wet trail in their wake. Clearly, it wasn’t their first time doing such unapproved things. Tickling her neck, they cleared her cheeks, attacking her lips. Together, they formed a triple kiss, swirling their tongues as one. All the while, they pinched and pulled her nipples.

  Jenna Smith continued licking and sucking Alexa’s sex. Caring nothing about lack of oxygen, Mrs. Smith’s tongue pumped the breeder’s watery chasm. The multitude of sensual acts pushed Alexa into deeper orgasm. Muffled moans were gagged by two tongues, as her body quaked in tsunamis of satisfaction. Electricity crawled through the curvy blonde’s cloudy brain, resembling a lightning storm.

  As her spasms subsided, the two servants withdrew their kiss. Reaching into the water, they pulled Jenna up by her golden hair. Gasping for breath, she craved more. The two girls wouldn’t let her return. “Dry her,” they ordered, pointing at neatly racked towels.

  Jenna nodded, as the two servants exited the room. The two blonds stared at each other silently. Mrs. Smith understood exactly how Alexa felt. Although there were few memories of drugged captivity, the overall emptiness would never leave her mind.

  Taking Alexa’s hand, Jenna walked the chosen womb up the round tub’s stairs. Reclined upon golden floors, Mrs. Hunter was hand dried with Egyptian cotton towels. Every water drop was carefully and compassionately stroked and dried. She took extra time on Alexa’s hair, massaging her scalp.

  After the backside was dried, Jenna gently wiped the front. Arriving at Alexa’s pink lips, she carefully dried deep inside. Within moments, the white towels turned crimson. Jenna gasped, seeing the bloody discharge.

  Sighting the blood, Alexa shook, cried, and fainted. Jenna held the curvy woman in her arms. As Mrs. Hunter came to consciousness, she conjured the words, “The baby...he’s dying!” Tears poured from her eyes, drenching her cheeks. It was the first time she properly emoted in weeks.

  Jenna hugged Alexa tightly. Running her hands through wet hair, she whispered, “No, cariad...it’ll be fine, my lovely. I swear it.” More tears flowed from the broken blonde’s eyes, having lost her life’s dream.

  Hearing the devastated cries, Jenna turned to desperate measures. In a whispered tone, she sang an old Welsh lullaby. The healing voice echoed off the golden walls, providing haunting comfort.

  Alexa slowly calmed. She shut her eyes, resting upon Jenna’s natural pillows. Mrs. Hunter’s mother used to sing to her in childhood, helping her sleep after nightmares. Although Jenna’s song provided momentary relief, the nightmare would remain upon awakening.

  Since Alexa joined Aionios’ side, it was the first time she’d received compassion. Fading into a safe zone of care, another flashback appeared. She recalled her first date with Dylan. They were at the beach, her head upon his lap. Although he wasn’t the sexual bad boy she craved, no one had ever touched her with such love. Right at that moment, she knew she’d marry him.

  Though currently, her mind was married to Aionios alone. The mysterious guard was a stranger to her, the scenes just fairy tales. In order to secure her dream of motherhood, she had to abandon her original wish: to be loved. Having lost it, the desire was slowly taking precedence again.

  Jenna’s lullaby ended, as she whispered in Alexa’s ear. Although she knew the baby wouldn’t survive, she offered hope. “Everything will work out, cariad. I’m here with you now...we have each other!”

  Mrs. Smith squeezed Alexa lovingly. She knew a revelation of miscarriage would lead to grave consequences for Mrs. Hunter. A moment of selfishness entered her head, as she thought, I could reclaim her place, be spared the reaping. However, she quickly pushed it away. No! I’d be no better than the woman who held me captive.

  *****

  Dylan, Gunner, and Rudd sat beside the fire. Eden pretended to be asleep on a leaf-stuffed sack. As always, she had one ear open. Dark-haired Dylan stared hopelessly into the fire, leaning closer by the moment.

  “You cold, mate? Get any closer to that fire...forget bat...it’ll be a right cock roast,” Gunner said.

  Rudd cut in. “Kid, he has a point. If you need a covering...we have plenty of banana leaves picked. This cave gets damn drafty...trade winds. Speaking of cold...before I left, the government was talking about global cooling. Celebrities, newspapers...all the hipsters swore the earth was headed for an ice age. Whatever happened with that?”

  Gunner laughed. “Something’s never change, mate...they just wear different hats.”

  “I’m not cold,” Dylan said.

  “Are ya scared?” Gunner asked.

  “No,” an annoyed Dylan answered. “Why would you ask that?”

  “Cuz you’re shakin’ like a gypsy’s trailer...that’s why.”

  Although Dylan didn’t understand the joke, he retorted, “Let me take that back...I am scared. For my wife, yours, the people in this cave, the citizens...waiting to pointlessly die for a fucking cult. If you had any sense...you’d be scared as well.”

  “Bullocks, yank. You think these wankers scare me? You don’t know fear until you’ve sat in the stands at a Wales National Football Game...verse England. That’s just if we win. If we lose...for fuck’s sake...run.”

  “I’ve been to plenty of football games. 49er’s.”

 
“Ah...American football...pussies in pads. Compare that to our rugby...no helmets...real men!”

  “Oh...so that’s what happens to the British teeth? I just figured the government banned toothpaste. Does dental not fall under the wonderful NHS?”

  “Piss off...and go suck on a soccer ball,” he taunted.

  “He can dish it...just can’t take it. Anyway, speaking of soccer...and balls...you resemble that one guy...Beckham.”

  “Yeah...minus the mascara and women’s blouses. The bloke’s a dodger.”

  “So you won’t mind taking him back to the UK then?”

  “If you take Madonna,” Gunner said.

  “Throw in Pierce Morgan...you have a deal,” Dylan offered.

  “On second thought...we’ll keep the old crotch cricket.”

  They both laughed, as Rudd said, “I sure as hell haven’t missed much through the years.”

  Dylan followed with laughter, “No, sir...you haven’t.”

  “This is the stuff I miss. Sittin’ at a pub, turning on the match, and drinkin’ a pint while taken a piss outta the boys. Not that light girly ale...the dark Guinness type. Puts hair on your chest. Good times, mates.”

  Rudd’s face lit up like Christmas Eve. “Now, there’s a subject I can relate to. Booze. Back home, the wife and I’d go down to the marsh, sip a bottle of Jack, kick back, make love under the stars. Didn’t matter if the world went to hell...as long as we had each other, everything was right.”

  “Now you’re talkin’, mate. What about you, Hunter? What’s your poison of choice...let me guess...wine? Chardonnay?”

  “I like to live on the wild side...Merlot,” he said in a wiseass tone.

  Gunner smirked, “Sure, mate...the proper ones are always closet drunks.”

  Dylan smirked, unwilling to reveal truth.

  Gunner yawned, “I’m dragging arse.” He pointed at Dylan. “Tomorrow, yank...it’s D-day. Well, at least we’ll plan it.” He walked off to his hut, leaving Rudd and Dylan alone.

  Mr. Hunter continued to gaze into the fire. “I think I’ll try to sleep as well.”

  “Go ahead, kid. Ask me,” Rudd challenged.

  Dylan paused, looking confused. “I don’t understand.”

  “Ask me why I won’t help you...like Smith asked.”

  Looking down in depression, Mr. Hunter said, “No need to ask.”

  The shock was Rudd’s now. “Why’s that?”

  “I already know the answer.”

  “You read minds or something? If so, can you tell me? Cuz somedays...even I can’t find a sane excuse.”

  Dylan searched his heart and head. “Because there’s nothing left to fight for.”

  “Pardon me if I misunderstood, but didn’t I hear you mention a wife? A living one...I may add.”

  “You’re correct...Alexa’s still alive. Though apparently, I’m dead to her.”

  “And what makes you say that, kid?”

  “She turned on me. I came to her...risked everything to save her life. She pretended not to know me. She always wanted to be a mother...I denied her wish. Now, she denied mine.”

  “Maybe she wasn’t herself? Paradox screws the mind. We’ve all experienced it in some way.”

  “Fuck it...I got what I deserved. Had I just talked to her more back home, met her needs...she would’ve never sought out a therapist. Shit, she would’ve never cheated in the first place. We would’ve never come here.”

  “Kid, if there’s one thing I’ve learned...sitting in this cave...it’s that you can’t look back. You have to accept the place you are. You have to believe that every decision was the best you could make.”

  “Belief! It’s what put me here in the first place! It’s a fool’s game...meant to prey upon the desperate.”

  “In some cases...you’re right. Others...you’re wrong.”

  “You mean to tell me...after all this shit...you still believe in a god?”

  “Kid, in my many years on this crazy planet...I’ve been judged for believing in nothing, and mocked for believing in something. I came home from the war angry...given up on life itself. It did me no good. No, it wasn’t until I came here that it all made sense.”

  “Here? You found answers? I only see questions.”

  “You’d be surprised how loud silence speaks. Especially in the early days...when this place belonged to me alone. All I had were thoughts, reflections, memories...lessons. In all the quiet...outside influence disappears. Life slows to an even crawl. Within the stillness, things you’ve taken for granted become clear.”

  “Like?”

  “Small things...like the sound of a beating heart, a thoughtless breath of air. Wavy fingerprints...that only belong to no one else. A flowing ocean tide, a million different sounds, colors, patterns separated by faint tones, shades, or lines. Works of art, kid.”

  “What’s that have to do with God?”

  “That it was created by something bigger than us all. These things were designed...took thought, planning, conception. The way things work...has to be more than chance, more than coincidence. How someone chooses to define it all...belongs to them alone. But since mankind walked, they inherited belief...like birds sensing seasons. So yeah, kid, I’ve come to two solid conclusions in my life. There is a God...and he’s not a narcissistic African...misusing the power we’ve given him.”

  “Then why would God condemned us here...on this forsaken island?”

  “We condemned ourselves. No one forced us on this path. We made a choice to put faith in an empty promise. We have freewill to decide our fate...a brain to decide it with. What we do with that freedom...determines our future.”

  “It’s too late for me. I’ve failed Alexa.”

  “As long as there’s a tomorrow, young man...there’s redemption.”

  Dylan exhaled in frustration. “I needed to believe this place...was good. People were good...somewhere, somehow. All I see is evil.”

  “Good and evil is a choice. We’re born free. When we put that power in other hands, they’ll take it all. It doesn’t matter if they’re left or right, atheist or religious, woman or man...they’ll use your trust for their gain.”

  “I chose to kill two people...because they told me to. One was my best friend. There’s no taking that back.”

  “Forget looking back. Go forward, damn it! Change your course...or be defined by it. You have something to fight for...if you want it bad enough.”

  Dylan was struck by the power of Rudd’s wisdom. However, his own skepticism kicked in. “Then tell me something...Rudd. Is this what defines you?”

  “Come again?”

  “You’ve stayed in the same place for years. How’ve you changed, gone forward? Here you sit...as good people await certain death. You have the choice to act. Yet, with all this knowledge...you choose to do nothing. You choose not to exist.”

  Now Rudd was the uncomfortable one. A shamed look crossed his face. “Son of a bitch...I can’t say I expected that to bite me in the ass. Nice job, kid.”

  “Join us in an attack! Give those people the chance your wife never had. Redeem yourself!”

  Rudd stood up. “In another life, I’d take you up on that offer. Though, my choice was made long ago,” he said, walking towards his hut.

  “As long as there’s a tomorrow, old timer...there’s redemption.”

  Rudd stopped, exhaling at his own words. His own truths were never cast upon himself. Still unwilling to do so, he continued to his quarters.

  *****

  The march to the reaping cave began. As the last pages of the golden book prophesied, the colonists would enter a large cave on the ocean’s edge. There, they would live out their remaining days in a Paradox daze of mindless sex.

  Working all hours of the day and night, Commander Grey’s guards matched every detail to the book’s replication. Already buzzed, the remaining 46 citizens staggered their way down beach. Just beyond the cascading sacred pools, another rocky cove awaited. The grand cavern was chosen by A
ionios during his first year of arrival.

  High tide crashed into its mouth, as Aionios led the way through frothy surf. Pausing at its torch-lit bowels, he gazed upon it with dogmatic eyes. It was the first time he saw it complete, exactly how he’d envisioned it.

  Standing beside the deity, Jenna held up a dizzy Alexa. In the short time of Mrs. Smith’s return, the two women bonded in silent sisterhood. They fed off the other’s need for love. The blond Brit had remained by Alexa’s side as the heir officially miscarried.

  Holding Alexa’s hand throughout the loss, Jenna had ordered the other servants to leave. She continued to sing to the chosen one, drying Mrs. Hunter’s tears and cleaning her mess. Most importantly, she disposed of any evidence. The secret was safe with her.

  At the reaping cave entrance, anxious citizens gathered behind Aionios. Extending his arms, the deity announced, “It is time to fulfill your destinies!”

  An animalistic cheer sounded. The hazed and horny group followed their leader inside. They were in awe at the cathedral-like appearance. Massive stalactites and stalagmites rose from the floor, hung from the ceilings. Like ancient relics, each one possessed earthy, sepia tones.

  A lake was blasted into the cave floor, holding 100,000 gallons of added Paradox. Glowing florescent lights illuminated the pool’s bottom, calling the citizens forward like a bug zapper in spring. Each worshipper’s mouth hung open, thirsting for a taste of hedonistic madness.

  Taking Alexa by the hand, Aionios made his way up to a rock balcony. Jenna crept behind them. Ammo-blasted stairs were carved into the cave’s wall, spiraling its way up to the kingly perch.

  As they arrived upstairs, a stone throne was chiseled from the rock wall itself. A powerful grin crossed Aionios’ face. He sat in his stiff chair, overlooking the glowing reddish lake of psychosexual brew.

  Alexa fell to the floor beside the throne, weak and dizzy. Comforted by Jenna Smith, Mrs. Hunter barely felt a thing. Aionios basked in praise, watching the citizens’ drop to their knees down below. They bowed to him, knees and foreheads scraping floor. Some called out, “Praise Aionios,” while others shouted in eerie desperateness, “Sacrifice us, oh great one! Burn our filthy flesh!”