Rage can ferment easily under those circumstances, yet I know logically this rage built of injustice is a waste of time. After all these years, I have learned the only way to live with the prejudices that thrives in humans is through logic. Logically superior skills at whatever I do.
It helps that I now command and demand respect in my position in the military. It was hard earned. War is my niche. I know it's the allure of power, because the powerful can command more respect. I try not to analyze it too much. I have a few creeds. Do the job better than anyone else does, don't take bullshit, but don't look for it either, and do not fuck any more natural born women.
Christ, I messed that last one up. Tallie is pure bred, sweet meat, natural born pussy. Even the base, primitive words I use in my thoughts surprise me. I'd been aloof and curt to most women, but I'd never allowed myself to think of them as slick hot cunts as I do now. It's some product of my own recent making and I'm not going to apologize for it. I think I might, this time, allow myself to revel in it. Why the hell not, there is nothing to lose now. No one will ever see these new perverse actions or find out.
I have one goal left after that. Time is short unless I find food and definitely water. Tallie and I need to find an alien communications hub on this hostile planet and she needs to download the MAXI search and destroy program into it. Being able to accomplish that mission will help save countless military lives, and I must keep her alive until she can do it.
Keeping her alive has nothing to do with her slinking on her hands and knees toward me like a naked fuck-me-toy. It's more than fucking every sweet ripe hole she has. It's the control, I'm holding over her that's swelling my genetically enhanced dick to its sneering length. A club between my tough thighs. This command I can enforce over Tallie, these edged sadistic pleasures I've rarely acknowledged my entire life, those are what do more than turn me on. They feed me.
I'd be worried about being able to control them once let loose like this. The power is . . . unexpected. I'm not sure I could rein it back now and bring it under control. But it doesn't matter; I'll never have to before I die. Die here on this scrubby slate-strewn planet with its purple-tinted skies, alien machines, and aliens no human has ever seen before.
That is another goal, I will add, to see one of the aliens before I die. It's my last contemplative thought before I grasp a fistful of Tallie's long thick hair.
Read a rough excerpt from, "Vampire Lords of Blacknall: Trinity"
by Shirl Anders.
(Coming Soon from Allure Books) it is a vampire regency
Romance Novel with Erotic Elements.
RNEE.
Trinity caught the flashes of alabaster skin off to the left and in front of where he ran through the brambles. The woman’s screaming had stopped many minutes ago and he had to guess the foul beast hunting her had nearly run her to ground.
He veered his headlong sprint towards the glimpses of pale flesh he kept catching sight of through thickly grouped trees surrounded by scattered bushes. His timing to reach the young woman before the vile monster leaped to kill her was too close to think he’d make it. The threatening roar he released was of a madden vampire reverberating through the night air. The abhorrence would recognize his thundering challenge.
He heard the woman cry out . . . in pain this time. Instantly he smelled blood, as he bellowed, “No!” Then his large body crashed through a small opening in the foliage.
He realized to late that he was moving much to fast to halt his forward motion, when suddenly the woman was there . . . as if pushed forward toward his unchecked momentum. He only had seconds to react and he grasped her against his body. Her long black hair whipped around them as he turned to take the brunt of an inevitable fall. He landed on his back with the woman piled on top of him. Then he heard the triumphant howl of escape from the foul beast fading into the distance.
Trinity held tight to the voluptuously young woman as he arched his back and he shouted his anger at losing his chance to kill the abhorrence. “I will find you!” he bellowed. “I have your scent!”
He became aware of the woman screaming as she thrashed on top of him. But more powerful than her ineffectual attempts at breaking his hold, while she screamed shrilly into his ear, was the cloud scent of her fresh blood choking him.
His savage and barely controlled inner hunter leaped to life. Fangs ravenous for pure virgin's blood pumping out of cuts somewhere on her struggling body extended past his lips like twin lances. Before he had any hope of exerting his willpower over the sudden monstrous cravings, his body turned, flipping the woman onto her back. He landed, pouncing over her with his fangs ready to strike as the veins in his body throbbed for the blood he could smell.
Why was her blood so fucking potent?
The animalistic snarl that lunged from his throat clashed with the woman’s frightened sobs as her wide eyes gazed up at him in horror. Her small hands pounded against his upper chest and shoulders as her bare hips and legs thrashed trying to push his body off her. His hard cock beneath his britches pounded for her submission and ordered his hips forward to press the rigid length down into her soft center, crushing her lower body’s struggle to a halt.
The woman whimpered in fear. Then she cried, “Oh no! Oh no!”
The strangled animalistic sound he made choked the woman’s cried words into panting silence. It was as if she believed halting any motion would make the vicious animal set to strike her miss.
Beth could not stand the predator’s gaze of yellow eyes with red glints slashed in the centers. She whimpered with sheer terror, jerking her gaze to the side, clenching her eyelids. She’d seen the long white fangs and she'd heard the animalistic snarls that came from the beast surely set to kill her. First, a monster hunted her and now another apparition held her captive. Yet the powerful menace against her felt like a man with hands, arms, legs, and a heavy chest. She felt men's trousers along her bare legs, and she felt a jacket fallen open over her breasts. Was it a man?
Why did it not strike, her mind wailed, as her breathing heaved. Was this the beast that chased her? She’d thought not. However, her questions and abject terror paled in comparison when she felt a hardened length pressing into her core . . . and what that foretold nearly caused her to fall into hysteria.
“Don’t move!” The commanding voice was a tense baritone with the after effect of a growl.
The appearance of human words so surprised her panic state that she jerked her gaze toward the sound as her body quaked in reaction. Had someone come to save her?
“Don’t,” the beast above her commanded, "Move.”
To hear the semblance of a human’s voice in the world gone so mad made her hopes flare unrealistically. But they did all the same. She wanted to live.
“Trinity!” a man’s voice shouted from the forest surrounding them.
The beast’s head jerked upward and away from stalking her with its blazing and vulturous gold eyes, to look up over her head.
“Stop, Brother! Don’t bite her, Trinity!” the voice from the distance shouted.
Beth felt the air she held in suspension in her lungs leave her as her hands flattened on the chest above her. Bite her? She cringed.
“Virgin’s blood,” the beast-man above her snarled viciously. “So potent, you can smell it,” he growled, making her whimper and squirm against him with the intense need to run.
“Trinity! Brother!”
“I will fight it, Church,” her beast-man vowed with a snarled half shout as his chest heaved into her chest. “Move away,” he yelled.
“For our mother!” the voice call Church returned.
Beth did not understand anything that had happened that night. How she could end up nearly naked beneath a primal man-beast. So many things were beyond the comprehension of her innocent life. However, she did understand or perhaps she wanted it so badly to be true that the man called, Trinity, imprisoning her, was trying to fight the urge to kill her. Moreover, he could not be the one that had ch
ased her through the night forest, because that presence held a livid malevolence toward her that she could feel.
“I will rise upward and give you my jacket,” the creature called Trinity said. His voice held strange inflections through the large fangs extending from his mouth. It also seemed he promised the action as though to convince himself.
Beth tensed more, trying to slow her panting breath, halfway certain he would not win the battle as he began to rise upward. Then, with his arms locked on either side of her, he stopped moving, but his other worldly eyes did not stop moving. He looked over her face, and then he looked downward toward her bare chest. She gasped a squeal of embarrassment chasing her fear, as caution be damned, she jerked her arms between them to cover her breasts.
“You are very beautiful,” his tense voice emitted lowly. Then, his hand rose and she would have flinched away, but his gaze held her immobile. His fingers touched her cheek and they felt cold as he curled them and he stroked over the curve of her cheek with the back of his knuckles.
“Please,” she begged him for her life. And the red glints in his eyes seemed to dull within the gold. Then his hand lifted to her temple and he did the most extraordinary thing. He wrote a cross upon her temple with his fingers.
“For my mother,’ he growled lowly.
Beth could feel the incredible tautness in his body above her. He nearly quivered with tenseness, and then he continued to rise off her lower body, until the cold night air flashed across her nakedness.
It was the most unheard of position she’d ever been in. She’d never so much as shown her ankle to a gentlemen. To be nude was horrifying as she laid there shaking in mortification. Then a warm jacket fell on top of her and she snatched it against her body . . . overwhelmed.
“Put it on,” the man’s hoarse voice ordered from the darkness above her.
“I-I,” she mewled, her body quaking.
“Don’t make me touch your skin again!” his voice demanded.
Her Captain's Command published by Allure Books,
copyrighted 2004 © Christina Stoke.
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Allure Books. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
*Publishers Note: This short story is previously published in Future Fantasies Volume Two.*
Blurb: Done in the first person, for him and for her, this is an erotic tale of eventual submission and dark tangled lust and love. Set on a distant planet, in the midst of harsh survival, a man and a woman test the boundary of need, when they believe there is no other chance. Sexually explicit m/f, hfn
Read an excerpt:
I take a deep breath, and then I crouch down onto my heels watching her. Her hair is still braided so I can see the delicate slope of her pale spine, flaring into her generous hips and reddened ass. Her legs are shapely and white and one of her big tits is partially caught under the arm she is using to reach around and sooth her buttocks with her hand. She’s crying. Not very loudly and it overpowers me how lucky I am for this chance.
I never went this far with my ex-wife. We played a little slap and tickle. I tied her up and made her cum a few times. But I held back from what I really wanted to do. Needed to do. This. Dominate. Take control of a womb-born female and make her a slave to our passions.
It is probably some psychological twist inside me about being born in a high tech incubator with no family. Perhaps, it has made me need to control the love in any relationships that I have? Love.
“Jesus,” I hiss. Where did that come from? I will not try to love another woman. Yet, as far as wanting and desiring, Tallie will take the prize. I can tell that she is going to fulfill me deeply in a way I was not completely honest with myself that I craved. Or needed so badly. “It hurts, but you are aroused, aren’t you, baby?” I murmur.
Tallie nods her head, not looking at me
“Come here and tell me how you want me to pleasure you. I will do anything, Tallie.”
She peaks at me over her shoulder. “Get un-d-dressed,” she quips in a wavering voice.
I laugh suddenly and it catches me by surprise. “You are quick, baby. I’m going to have to watch out I can see.”
Tallie actually smiles a little as I unzip my flight suit and pull it down off my shoulders. I have her attention now, despite herself, as I make sure my biceps bulge tightly while I do it. I’m broad-chested with deep muscles across my chest, and I’m hairy, not thick, just all over sprinkled black with gray. My stomach is ribbed with sinew and my buttocks are shaped like blocks of muscular clay. My thighs are athletic and powerful and my cock is big. They made Variant males more enhanced and they didn’t stop at the genitals. Seven or eight inches are average for a male, so they genetically altered Variants to produce ten-twelve and more inches. I’m a hard ten, but by the time I’m ready to enter my woman, I’m a steely hard twelve.
Tallie is going to have trouble taking me. Her sweet cunt is the tightest I've ever felt. She couldn't have been with more than one man, a couple of times, for it to still be that snug and firm at her age. She is a definite treasure ... and she can’t keep her pretty brown eyes off my dong. She wants to be angry and disillusioned about me, but her own arousal and the sight of my big and very hard cock are pouting her curved lips in conflict.
“You could use your mouth,” she whispers, then she blurts, “I am so horny, Ry.” Then she clamps her hands between her thighs.
“Oh no,” I utter. “Take your hand away, Tallie, and come here.”
Tallie moves her hands and rolls over onto her hands and knees to crawl toward me. Her brown irises are nearly black as her larger breasts sway and I lay down on my back. “Sit on my face, baby,” I murmur. “Let me eat your pussy out.” End Excerpt.
Her Captain's Command 1: Stripped
By Christina Stoke
copyrighted© 2004 by Christina Stoke
Chapter One
His name is Captain Boa. Disconcerted, I find myself watching him every hidden chance I get. I'm so foolish, secretly acting immature, and nearly powerless to stop it. But I’m thirty-five, no childish teenager any longer and he’s . . . well, Captain Boa is out of my league. Of course, most men are.
Self-confidence is my tragic problem. I’m too shy, or reserved, or perhaps downright cowardly to even understand the art of flirting. Or maybe, like some alien creature to every man I could be interested in, I emit the wrong come-hither signals for sex and primal mating. But I’m no great beauty. I'd assume I’m definitely not ugly. Precisely average, a middle of the road type. Regular. Someone once mentioned that I have bedroom eyes. They are a muddled brown, dark with slumberous eyelids. Now my love affair with myself is my hair. It's thick and lush. A sable color with deep brownish-black shading and it's very long. My hair is definitely not stylish military hair, and I'm equally glad I’m not full military. I'm just in the reserves, so they cannot force me to cut it. At least I don't think they can.
Every person on Earth was stunned, four short months ago, when deadly aliens first launched their attacks. It’s still staggering to believe Earth lost so many regular military people in the first three months of attacks that reservists had to be called in. That's why I’m here, out in space, aboard the U.S.S. Eclipse and assigned with an incredible stroke of luck to Captain Boa’s squadron, the Shadow Stars.
All six kids, that are the pilots comprising the Shadow Stars, thought of the cheesy sci-fi name. It just goes to show how impossibly young they are to be trying to save us and risking their lives. It scares me and b
reaks my heart at the thought of losing one of them. Every last one of them is just in their twenties. Babies. Babies defending me? Something is messed up. But most seasoned pilots were lost in the beginning.
Captain Boa was one of them. He was one of the best commander pilots. From what I've heard, he's a legend of that sort. Now he's the only one left alive from the entire squadron he commanded. I think about how close he came and what horrible things he's seen. He was injured in that last battle. What I wouldn’t give to know what the initial “R” of his first name stands for, and just what his injury is.
So now, Captain Boa commands this squadron of wet behind the ears pilots. I’m their systems technician, along with “Midnight,” that’s Mario Lopez who does the space Skitters maintenance, and “Ghost” Lonnie Depp who does the communications. I’m the only nonmilitary in their squad. I came into this war game far too late for a Shadow call name, so all of them just call me, “Hey Rousseau.” That’s my last name. I don’t think any of them know my first name, Tallie. But that's the military for you, I’m finding out. These brave kids put their life on the line every day, for all of us, and maybe that’s why they don’t use first names? Death is so close.
“Private Rousseau, I need that tactical system up and running before the Shadows mission at o’ twelve hundred.” Captain Boa speaks to me. He rarely does, and I find as usual I cannot look him in the eye, so my gaze centers on his chest.
Stripped Page 7