REES
An Ellora’s Cave Publication, March 2005
Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.
1337 Commerce Drive, #13
Stow, OH 44224
ISBN MS Reader (LIT) ISBN # 1-4199-0193-1
Other available formats (no ISBNs are assigned):
Adobe (PDF), Rocketbook (RB), Mobipocket (PRC) & HTML
REES Copyright © 2005 ALLYSON JAMES
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book may not be reproduced in whole or in part without permission.
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. They are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.
Edited by Heather Osborn.
Cover art by Syneca.
Warning:
The following material contains graphic sexual content meant for mature readers. Rees has been rated E–rotic by a minimum of three independent reviewers.
Ellora’s Cave Publishing offers three levels of Romantica™ reading entertainment: S (S-ensuous), E (E-rotic), and X (X-treme).
S-ensuous love scenes are explicit and leave nothing to the imagination.
E-rotic love scenes are explicit, leave nothing to the imagination, and are high in volume per the overall word count. In addition, some E-rated titles might contain fantasy material that some readers find objectionable, such as bondage, submission, same sex encounters, forced seductions, and so forth. E-rated titles are the most graphic titles we carry; it is common, for instance, for an author to use words such as “fucking”, “cock”, “pussy”, and such within their work of literature.
X-treme titles differ from E-rated titles only in plot premise and storyline execution. Unlike E-rated titles, stories designated with the letter X tend to contain controversial subject matter not for the faint of heart.
Tales of the Shareem:
Rees
Allyson James
Chapter One
A Shareem male.
Easy to tell he was Shareem, first because he was tall, more than six and a half feet. Second, because of the slim black chain on his left biceps. Third, because he was naked, except for a loincloth around his waist.
From the other side of the airy white hall, Talan watched the Shareem pause in front of the door to a holo-block.
The Shareem had long hair, dark blond and pulled into a tail that hung between his shoulder blades. His back muscles were sculpted to perfection, tapering to a small waist and muscular thighs.
The loincloth left his backside bare. Talan had never seen a man’s backside before. It was enough to dry her mouth and start her juices flowing.
Reading about Shareem was one thing. Researching in a dusty library was one thing. Seeing a Shareem in the flesh was something completely different.
She knew now why women had once gone crazy trying to get them.
Shareem. Genetically enhanced males, grown and bred for the pleasure of females. A craze twenty years ago, very illegal these days.
Despite the cooling system inside Talan’s robes, sweat trickled down her back.
He paid for the holo-block with a credit strip, and the big door slid open. Beyond, Talan glimpsed an ocean, palm trees and a beach. Good choice.
The Shareem entered the room. The door started to close.
Talan had never broken a rule in her life. Talan d’Urvey would never, ever sneak into a holo-block rented for only one person. That would be wrong.
But she’d followed him this far, and she could not linger for hours waiting for him to come out.
The door had nearly closed. Talan flung herself across the hall and into the holo-room just before the door boomed shut behind her.
Rees stared out across the blue-green waves of the tropical ocean, sank his toes into the warm sand, and thought about the woman following him.
Rees liked oceans. The desert world of Bor Narga had no oceans, except for a dried-up one in the middle of the planet.
He liked the soothing cool of the water and the tropical air touching his ass, kissing his skin like a woman’s lips. It was a perfect place to ponder the problem Rio had brought to him and to think about the woman.
She’d been following him all morning, ever since he’d left the bazaar. At first he’d thought she was a patroller, one of that fine body of women who enjoyed harassing the now-free Shareem.
A closer glance told him no. Her robes placed her as upper-class. The patterns and colors on them indicated she was unmarried, educated, and celibate.
A celibate young woman following a Shareem.
He wanted to laugh. Naughty girl.
She’d followed him into the holo-block then dived for cover behind the broad-leafed plants and stayed there.
Maybe he should give her a show. He could stretch out on the sand, place his hand on his thigh and brace his cock so it would point straight to the sky. He’d spread his legs a little, show her that his balls were tight and lifting for her.
The DNAmo programmers had designed Shareem to respond to even subtle stimulation. Just being watched by an interested woman could make his cock rise.
Besides, she was cute.
He imagined her coming out from her hiding place, kneeling and taking him in her mouth.
Mmm, he wanted that.
A celibate wouldn’t know what to do. He’d have to show her. His cock tingled in anticipation.
She must not know what he was, or she’d have run away as fast as her high-heeled boots would let her.
She should have picked a level one Shareem to follow. Level ones were pretty harmless. Even level twos could be fun, if a lady enjoyed, say, a little spanking.
Level threes could get even more creative.
Rees was a level all by himself.
Even ladies used to Shareem said Rees was dangerous. They said it with an excited tremor in their voices.
Rees was one of the reasons Shareem were taboo now. He’d been an experiment, a risk, a step too far, some said.
One day he’d heard the scientists say that they needed to terminate the experiment. He’d been pretty sure how they were going to do that.
He’d gotten away, and the next week the company went bankrupt. DNAmo, who’d thrived for a hundred years breeding the perfect servants and then the perfect males, disappeared.
People had looked for Rees at first, then had forgotten about him. They believed the DNAmo scientists had fled with him. No one even knew what he looked like.
Rio knew. Rees knew. A few women thought they knew, but couldn’t be sure.
And here he was.
He could taste the lady’s pheromones on the air. She was wet and wanting him.
Well, she’d get what she came for. She should learn not to play with fire.
He turned around and made for her hiding place in the greenery. He’d give her a chance to leave. That was only fair.
He stopped right in front of her. Between the broad, flat leaves behind which she crouched, her fire-colored hair and transparent veil nestled like a flower.
“Come on out,” he said.
The figure didn’t move.
“You’re not really hiding,” Rees said, trying not to laugh. “I see you.”
She quivered a second, then slowly stood up.
Rees took a stunned step back. Did he say cute? She was gorgeous.
Red hair framed the round face of a woman in her early twenties. Thick, black lashes enhanced the bluest eyes he’d ever seen. He imagined her fluttering those lashes over his lips, over his balls…
Her robes mostly hid her, but he could see the swell of breasts and the round
of her hips and backside. He liked imagining what she looked like under all that fabric. He’d like to take off those robes, layer by slow layer.
“Well?” he said.
“Well, what?” She was trying to be snooty, but she was too nervous.
“Why are you following me?”
She got more nervous. “I thought this room was empty.”
Liar. He laughed. “No, you didn’t.”
Another thing enhanced on a Shareem was his voice. He could soothe a woman just by saying hello, make her shiver by saying her name.
The woman looked anything but soothed. “I thought— I did not mean to— It’s all right, I’ll leave.”
She swung around, robes whirling in the tropical breeze. He caught her arm. She turned, startled, then she glared at him.
A Shareem never touched an upper-class woman without her permission. It wasn’t done.
His friend Rio, a level three and not ashamed of it, did it all the time.
“I’m just a badass,” Rio would say. Rio would have already lifted this lady’s skirts and showed her what a level three could do.
Rees was a little kinder.
“I can think of only one reason a celibate woman would follow a Shareem,” Rees said.
She blinked. “Oh? Why?”
He lowered his voice, made it still more seductive. “Because she wants her first fuck. Why else?”
She looked at him in amazement, and her face turned bright red. “Of course not.”
“You didn’t follow me to play hide and seek. You’re celibate. You want me to make you un-celibate.”
“No, no,” she said. “I will go to a clinic for that.”
Upper-class women had clinics for sexual health and for donating DNA to make children. None of them had anything to do with sex.
Not swollen cock in hot, slippery pussy kind of sex anyway.
“Then what?”
She blushed. “I just wanted to see a Shareem.”
He spread his arms. “Here I am.”
She made no pretense of not looking. Those blue eyes moved as she examined him from his blond hair all the way down his muscled chest and flat stomach, his thighs and calves and bare feet.
Her gaze rose again, lingered on the loincloth, which was bulging, and landed on the black chain on his biceps.
“Do you mind being a slave?” she asked.
“Shareem aren’t slaves,” he said. “We do what we want.” Mostly.
“But you were made in a factory.”
“Grown in a vat, yeah. But here we are.”
She looked him up and down one more time, fascinated. “You’re not what I expected.”
“What did you expect?”
“You’re human,” she said, in wonder. “I didn’t think you’d be so human.”
That stunned him. Most women looked no farther than his huge cock and didn’t much care about anything else.
He wasn’t considered human. Humanoid, maybe.
Something in his heart warmed a tiny bit. He should be kind to her. Let her get away.
No. Hunt her through the brush and out into the waves—
He stopped the thought. “You shouldn’t have followed me. A level one, maybe. But not me.”
Her brows rose. “Why not?”
“Because I’m Rees.”
Her look told him she’d never heard of him. “What is a Rees?”
She made him laugh, lucky for her. The rest of his body screamed at him to throw her down and fuck her and get it over with.
“That’s my name.”
Her cheeks got red again. “Oh.”
He laughed out loud. “Don’t worry about it, babe. Come and swim with me,” he suggested, pitching his voice to seduce. “The water’s nice.”
“No, I can’t. Thank you for asking, but I’m not ready.”
She breathed fast, pushing her delectable breasts up and down.
“Not ready for what?”
“For swimming. Or anything else. My research isn’t complete.”
“Research?”
“On Shareem.”
He stared at her. “You’re doing research on Shareem? What is there to research?”
“Oh, many, many things.”
He wanted to laugh again.
He wouldn’t mind helping with a little research. He’d pull off his loincloth, lay her on the sand, lace his fingers through her warm, red hair. Then spread her legs, thrust his tongue inside her fine pussy. Yes, any research was fine with him.
She stammered, “I wondered if you would—ah—”
He leaned closer. She had a sweet scent overlaid with a tang of excited woman.
What do you want me to do, love? he thought. Fuck you? Lick you? Fill your mouth?
Bind her hands, part her legs. Take…
Again, he stopped his thoughts. She was celibate and clueless. She had no idea what he could do, what Shareem could do, what Rees could do.
The woman drew a breath. “I wonder if you’d give me a sample of your DNA.”
Rees stared at her. “Okay, I’ve had bizarre requests before, but… What do you want to do? Grow your own Shareem? That’s illegal, darling.”
“No, no. I only want to look at it. To see what’s different about you.”
“What’s different is I don’t have parents. Or, maybe I have multiple parents. Or scientists with nothing better to do.”
She frowned, like she didn’t know what he was talking about.
“What’s your name?” he asked.
She wet her lips. “Talan.”
“Pretty name for a lady researcher. Okay, Talan, you can have my DNA. Mind if I think of some fun ways of giving it to you?”
“That’s all right, I’ll just take cells from your finger.” She reached into her robe, pulling out something that looked like a sharp knife with a tube attached to it.
Rees took an instinctive step back. Clinics and tubes and knives always bothered him.
“Ready?” she asked.
He made himself hold up his finger. The holo-block sunlight glittered on his tanned skin and the black chain.
As though she saw nothing but his finger, Talan scraped a little of the skin from his fingertip. She closed the tube over the knife and put it back into her pocket. She looked satisfied.
“Is that it?” he asked.
“Yes, thank you. Thank you very much.”
“You’re welcome.”
He should not touch her, he knew that, and not just because it was taboo. She stirred him up, and stirring up Rees was dangerous.
But he wanted to touch her. He reached out and brushed a strand of hair from her forehead.
She stared at him, mesmerized. His touch, his voice, his gaze, were all made to melt a woman.
“You’re putting a spell on me,” she whispered. “I read about that.”
He grinned. “I know. I can’t help it.”
“I have to go.”
“So you keep saying.”
He withdrew his touch. She drew a sharp breath, as though released from a trap. She whirled around again, making for the door.
“Sure you don’t want to stay?” he asked.
She shook her head. “I am already very late. If I have to explain…”
If her friends were the upper-class elite—women who’d decided that good old-fashioned screwing was bad, women who’d made laws restricting Shareem—she would be in for it, all right.
“Tell them you were researching,” he called.
“Good idea. Goodbye, Mr. Rees. And thank you.”
She turned again, running straight at the wall. Triggered, the door materialized in front of her and opened. She ran through, the draft swirling her robes above a pair of legs that made his blood sing. Then the door whooshed shut.
He stood there for a minute while the tropical air caressed him and the palm trees whispered and the ocean slithered up the beach.
Then he ripped off his loincloth and ran across the beach and into the waves.
<
br /> His blood pounded and every cell in his body burned. He was like a lava flow in the water. He was surprised the holo-sea didn’t start boiling.
It was all he could do not to run after her, haul her back in, lock the door. He’d lay her down, thrust his cock inside her, keep pounding until he came. And she came. And he came again.
But he didn’t.
She’d said thank you.
Fuck, fuck, fuck!
His cock, enhanced like the rest of him, stood out straight, even in the cool water.
Thank gods he’d decided to do an ocean. If he’d picked the garden with the fountain, he’d be dead, because no way a little trickling fountain would cool him down.
He plunged underwater, letting the waves slither over his naked body. It helped—some. He pictured the woman, Talan, coming back in, throwing off her robes, swimming out to him, twining her arms around his neck.
He’d lower his head and kiss her lips.
That wasn’t helping.
When he surfaced, blood still pounding, the pheromone levels in the room had decreased slightly—probably saving him from an early death. His heartbeat finally settled down.
It took his cock longer to deflate, but disappointment helped.
He floated on his back, thinking.
He’d remember her face. He’d see her again.
Once he’d finished helping Rio, he’d seek her out. An upper-class woman called Talan wouldn’t be too hard to find.
And when he did, he’d remind her of the lost opportunity they’d had here on the tropical beach.
The fucking would be good, he thought, his cock throbbing again. It would be very good. He knew it in his bones.
Chapter Two
Two weeks later
“Following the Way of the Star means separating mind and body,” the lecturer continued in her dulcet tones. “The mind can only function at its highest level if we leave the ways of the body behind. The flesh is ugly, it is heavy, it keeps us pinned to lesser things.”
Talan, kneeling amidst the other students of the Way, reflected that the Shareem’s flesh certainly hadn’t been ugly.
Tales of the Shareem: Tales of the Shareem: Rees Page 1