Distant Desires

by Cambria Hebert

  This time it didn’t just light the road.

  There was something else. Someone else.

  I opened my mouth to scream, only no sound came out. I lifted my leg to run, but it didn’t obey. I was frozen where I stood. The only thing about me that worked was my brain, and right now I wished it didn’t.

  I’m going to die.

  I’m going to die a horrible death and no one will ever know.

  The silhouette in the center of the light began walking toward me. Sort of. It was more like it floated over the ground, hovering just over the gravel, gliding gracefully through the air.

  I willed my body to move, to get the hell away. Still, my stupid body betrayed me.

  I was a prisoner inside my own skin.

  As the thing moved, so did the light and the disk overhead. Simultaneously, they all approached as one, drawing closer and closer until I was sincerely afraid I was going to pee my pants.

  The being was wearing a silver robe with an oversized hood that shrouded its face. They weren’t much taller than me, so I would guess them to be about five-eight or so. Of course, maybe if they were actually standing on the ground, they would be shorter.

  I tried to call out, to beg for my life.

  My voice didn’t work.

  It was as if everything around that disk was completely frozen in time.

  The creature stopped before me, saying nothing, but I could feel the penetrating stare behind the shadows of the hood. Silently, it reached out its arm, the silky material of the robe draping toward the ground like a waterfall.

  I tried to recoil, but it was no use.

  Eerily long fingers with oversized knuckles reached for me. The skin that covered them was ultra pale and so smooth it looked like polished stone.

  Two fingers wrapped around the skin just above my elbow. I imagined they would be icy cold, but they weren’t. This thing’s touch was much warmer than me. Even through my hoodie, I could feel the heat.

  The next thing I knew, the sweatshirt around me was gone. Ripped away and out of sight. I felt myself swallow as fear flooded my limbs.

  The fingers once again found the skin above my elbow. They were intensely hot.

  It moved so achingly slow, trailing those too-long fingers down the curve of my elbow, down the sensitive flesh of the inside of my arm. If I had control of my body, I would have shuddered.

  Then the fingers threaded through mine, a possessive action. This being seemed to claim my hand.

  You can’t have that! my mind screamed.

  “Yes.” The creature in the robe spoke aloud. “You are mine.”

  A single tug on our joined hands set my body in motion. I spilled forward even as my insides recoiled.

  The light grew brighter, so bright I had to shut my eyes.

  I felt something wrap around my body and support my weight because I no longer could. A feeling of lightness came over me, and then my feet no longer touched the ground.

  I forced my eyes open, looking up toward the sky. That black hole in the bottom of the disk was back. It was an unwelcoming void in the center of the neon light. My robed kidnapper and I were being towed upward, like it was a giant spider and I was now tangled in its web.

  I had no idea what was waiting up there for me.

  But I knew it couldn’t be good.

  the pleasure

  I

  had to be dreaming.

  I mean, seriously. This shit just couldn’t be real.

  Did I really just get beamed up into a spaceship?

  I was going to wake up in a few minutes in my own bed and laugh my ass off because this was all just a crazy dream.

  I really wanted to wake up.

  I wanted to wake up now.

  Slowly, I opened my eyes, expecting to find myself in bed but wincing from the neon light I’d shut my eyes against in the first place.

  There was no neon light, but I wasn’t in bed either. The room was lit with a soft blue hue. It was a calming sort of light—that is if one could be calm at a time like this. The person who brought me up here was standing very close at my side, but I didn’t look at them. I wasn’t ready. Instead, I took in everything else.

  It was a large open space¸ very sterile in appearance. The floors were white, spotlessly clean, and the walls were the color of brushed nickel and curved with the shape of the ship. The soft-blue was supplied from what looked like some sort of rope lighting that circled the perimeter of the ceiling and spiraled inward toward the center to reveal a simple teardrop-shaped hanging pendant. The teardrop was made of glass, reminding me of a giant water drop, and in the center was a light, again in soft blue, but it didn’t look like a bulb. It floated in the center of the glass, not connected to anything.

  Along the far wall were sleek white cabinets, seamless in design. There were no pictures on the walls, no furniture, and no clutter.

  I was afraid, so afraid I was almost numb, yet the longer I stood here, the more at ease I became. There were no torture instruments in sight. No evil scientists, no scary men hovering with shackles and chains. No laser beams threatening to singe off my hair…

  What? You get beamed into a spaceship and your imagination would run wild too.

  If anything, the lack of these items made me curious. Why else would I be beamed up here if they didn’t want to dissect me like some kind of frog?

  Gathering courage and taking a deep breath, I turned slowly to look at the person standing shrouded in a silver robe.

  “I can’t see you,” I said, my voice shaky and low. My entire body trembled with uncertainty and fear. “Remove your hood.”

  “No.” The voice was deep and low, so I assumed it was a male.

  “Why?”

  “What I look like isn’t important.”

  Seemed pretty important to me, but I was afraid to challenge him. He had a major advantage here. “Then what is important?”

  “You need to understand.”

  “Understand what?” I glanced down at the floor. He didn’t appear to be hovering, but I couldn’t be sure because the silver robe he wore pooled onto the floor, hiding his feet.

  “You will not be hurt while you are here.” His voice was exotic, thick with an accent, but not hard to understand. I found myself wishing he would say more just so I could hear the lilt in his tone.

  Sexy voice aside, did he really think I was just going to believe what he said? I’m sure every killer told his victim not to be afraid just before he slit her throat.

  “Why am I here?” I asked, taking a small step away from him.

  He made no move to close the gap I put between us.

  “We are here to gather information.”

  “We?” I asked, panicked, and looked around for more robe-wearing creepers.

  “They are here, but not in this room,” he replied.

  “Are they like you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Who are you?” I asked. “What are you?”

  “Will you help us?”

  “You didn’t answer my question.” I pointed out.

  Silence was the only response I received.

  “You can’t just beam a girl up into a… a spaceship and expect her not to ask questions.” I crossed my arms over my chest. Then I paused. “Is this a spaceship?”

  “We prefer the term hovercraft.”

  I rolled my eyes. Like there was a difference.

  “Answering questions is a waste of time. When we are finished here, your memory will be wiped anyway.”

  Panic twisted my belly. What the hell were they going to do to me that would need to be wiped from my brain?

  “I want to go home.”

  “And you will. But first, we would like the opportunity to study you. To learn about your kind.”

  “Umm, no.”

  Again, I was met with silence.

  “I don’t have a choice, do I?” I asked after a few minutes. My voice sounded small to my own ears.

  “It will not hurt. You may find it
pleasurable. Your kind likes pleasure, yes?”

  “As opposed to pain? Yeah.”

  “Let us begin,” he said, moving forward.

  I leapt back. “I didn’t say yes.”

  “Come,” his voice commanded. “Submit and then you will be delivered safely home.”

  “And if I don’t?” I said, raising my chin.

  More silence.

  I wasn’t too fond of his kind of silence because it left my over-creative mind to fill in the gaps of conversation.

  He moved farther into the room, stopping in front of the wall of cabinets and opening a door. Inside was all kind of controls; it reminded me of a giant computer. He pressed a button and the silent hum of action filled the space.

  The center of the floor opened up and something started to rise. It was a white platform, and in the center was something that looked like some kind of dentist chair.

  I thought about running, but where would I go? There was no door in sight, and even if there was, weren’t we in the sky? Was I going to jump out with no parachute, no means of survival?

  “What the hell is that for?” I asked, terrified.

  “Sit,” he commanded.

  “No.”

  He lifted those long white fingers and made a small gesture. My body moved; I was completely powerless to stop it. I glided forward until my knees hit the chair. It was made of buttery-soft white leather.

  A sharp ripping sound and a draft of warm air brushing over my skin made me look down. With barely any effort at all, my jeans and low-cut top were yanked away.

  “Hey,” I cried, moving to cover what I could of myself.

  “I like the way your kind is shaped,” he said, the hardness to his tone gone and the lilting accent returned.

  I was wearing nothing but lacey black panties and bra, and I had no doubt he could see exactly how I was shaped.

  “Sit down.”

  I did, because refusing seemed kind of stupid at this point. He’d just make me. At least this way I could pretend I had some kind of control here.

  The softness of the leather against my bare skin wasn’t unpleasant. If anything, it felt sinful. I found my limbs relaxing against it, and I studied the soft glow the blue lighting cast over my skin.

  “I will begin.” He came forward, and I watched him warily, still not trusting a word he said. A small tray of instruments appeared beside me and on it was a needle and several tubes.

  “Hell no,” I said, starting to get up.

  “It will not hurt,” he said, lifting his hand and pinning me to the chair with some unseen force.

  He grasped my arm in his hand and I couldn’t help but notice how smooth and pale his fingers were. The knuckles were over-exaggerated and wide and he had no fingernails.

  A needle pricked my skin and I gasped, watching as a tube filled quickly with my blood. And then he filled another.

  When that was done, the needle was removed and he placed two very warm fingers against the entry wound. My skin tingled and warmed beneath his touch, like I stepped in front of a window that was letting in warm sunlight.

  Seconds later, he pulled away and I looked down. There was no evidence of the needle drawing my blood. He had healed me.

  Another robed figure appeared and took away the tray, along with my blood. I watched until they were out of sight.

  “I will examine you now,” he said. “It will not hurt.”

  True to his word, it didn’t hurt, and he seemed genuinely curious about my body, my heart, my pulse. He spoke very little and moved with fluid grace. The heat from his hands, the softness of the leather beneath me, and the soft-blue glow to the room lulled me into a sense of security.

  Maybe he was telling the truth. Maybe he really was just curious about the human body. After a while, he walked away, toward those cabinets once more, opening yet another door to press some more buttons. Something beneath the chair hummed to life and it began to vibrate softly.

  Even my fear couldn’t disguise the rush of pleasure throughout my limbs. My eyes slid closed momentarily as the muscles in my back were soothingly kneaded with gentle motion. When I opened them again, he was standing over me, peering down from inside the oversized hood. I hadn’t realized he was there, and I jerked in surprise.

  His large hand covered my bare shoulder and settled me. His fingers squeezed lightly as if testing the elasticity of my skin. I thought he would pull away once I stilled.

  He didn’t.

  Instead, his fingers probed my collarbone and against my neck. My breath caught and tension coiled inside me. What was he doing?

  A finger slid beneath my bra strap, pulling it over my shoulder and exposing the top of my breast. Even though I couldn’t see his eyes, I felt his stare.

  I shivered.

  Slowly, his fingers trailed down my chest and across the tops of my creamy breasts.

  “What the hell are you doing?” I gasped.

  “Is it true?” he said after a while. “That pleasure can be achieved with touch?” His fingers dipped below the lace of the bra and teased the flesh of my breast.

  “Yes,” I said, partly a sigh.

  “I want to see.”

  I stiffened, my eyes shooting up to him.

  But then his large hand covered my breast, his fingers squeezing gently until I was cupped in his palm. Damn if it didn’t feel good.

  His hand was incredibly warm. Almost like a hot stone massaging my flesh. Of its own accord, my nipple tightened into a hard bud, puckering against him. He yanked away the fabric of the bra to stare down at the formed pebble. Without saying a word, he reached out and touched it, curling a finger around the outside and then pinching.

  I gasped, my back arching on its own.

  He stilled and I felt his stare. I looked up at him, knowing desire was written in my eyes.

  Did he see it? Did he understand?

  He must have because his hands grew bolder.

  A small scalpel appeared in his hands, but before I could even be afraid, he sliced through the front of the bra and discarded it, leaving my chest completely exposed. Both my nipples hardened into fine points, and the fullness of my breasts began to ache with need.

  He leaned closer, taking both breasts in his hands and pinching the nipples, rolling them around between his forefingers. I squirmed a little in the chair, and he squeezed harder. I thought it might hurt. It felt incredible. He played with the hard pink tips for a while, tugging and pulling, pinching and squeezing, until my breath came in short gasps.

  When he seemed to tire of that area, he grabbed both swollen globes and pushed them together, rubbing the centers against one another to create friction that made me squeeze my thighs closed.

  One of his hands left me, and I heard him rustling around for something, but I didn’t bother looking because his other hand was still moving over my breast.

  Then his hand grasped it, pulled upward, and gathered it together. Something fastened over it, holding it in place. My eyes shot open and I looked down. It was some sort of clear cup that had a long clear tube coming out of the center.

  I watched as he flicked a switch and it began to suck. It was like a low-powered vacuum, pulling the already sensitive skin upward.

  I groaned out loud. God, the pressure was so freaking delicious. I arched up into it as my breast was sucked with the gentleness of air. Then he pressed another button and the chair, which was in a sitting position, began to recline.

  My head and shoulders lowered as my feet came up to the same level. His large warm hands grabbed my ankles and laid my legs out across the chair so my knees were not bent.

  When I was completely stretched across the vibrating, warm leather, he stood over me again, taking the uncovered breast in his hand and placing an identical cup over it. Another push of a button and it began suckling at my skin as well.

  Holy shit, I should be creeped out by this, right?

  But oh. My. God. The sensations shooting from my breasts down into my crotch were unl
ike anything I’d ever experienced.

  His hands grasped my waist, traveling over my navel and probing gently at my belly button. His warm finger dipped into the little circle and then pulled out to trail down to the waistband of my panties. I thought he was going to tear away the fabric. In fact, I hoped he did.

  The insistent pleasure being delivered into my chest was making my vagina throb with need.

  But his hands kept going. They traveled down between my legs so he could grip the insides of my thighs. His palms were so large that they completely covered the delicate flesh.

  Moving to the foot of the chair, he popped a little latch and the bottom section of the chair separated. After making sure one of my legs was on each side, he pulled it apart, making me completely open and vulnerable to him.

  I shuddered with fear but also with lust. I’d never been treated this way before. I’d never had anyone so intent on studying my body and seeing what made it hum.

  I heard him pick up the scalpel, and I glanced down. My entire body began to quiver. He made short work of my panties, and then I was completely naked. I felt the juices of my center drip down onto the leather.

  He stared at that part of me, placing a hand on each thigh and pushing my legs wide so I was completely open. Several minutes later, I felt a single finger probe at the short curls at the apex of my thighs. He seemed fascinated that I had hair down there.

  He twirled his fingers in the coarse curls and then glided down the crease where my thigh met my torso. I shuddered because he was so incredibly close to my opening. I knew when he realized I was oozing juices because he paused.

  Next thing I knew, his finger dipped into me. It was a gentle swipe, quick, but I still shuddered from the contact. My thighs moved to close, to squeeze at the sensation, but he stopped me, pressing them wide once more.

  “This spot is sensitive, yes?” he asked.

  “Yes,” I said, my voice low and hoarse.

  The pressure on the cups over my breasts increased just slightly, and I moaned.

  His finger plunged into me, dipping so far in I felt him scrape my inner walls. I let out a little cry and then bit down on my lip. He pulled out and then swirled his saturated, slick finger around my opening. The tip of it rubbed against my clit and my legs jerked upward.