By Rob Nagle, edited by Brantley
“Eh? What where?”
“’ere - in the shadows of this dark alley.”
“Who are you, and what are you doing there?”
“Never mind that. Come’ere, I got somethin’ I want to show you.”
“What’ve you got to show from the shadows of a dark alley?”
“Something you’ll be interested in.”
“How do you know I’d be interested? I’ll be thinkin’ you’re up to no good, that’s what I think.”
“I have nothing to hide.”
“Oh, for God’s sake, man, put that thing away, will you!”
“No offense, pal. Just making a point, is all.”
“Such as it is. So anyway, what’s this you’re so eager to show me?”
“Pictures . . . “
“Pictures? What pictures? Pictures of what? Pictures - oh, my word!”
“Wha’d’ya make o’ that bit of stuff, eh?”
“My . . . word!”
“This is . . . !”
“It’s . . . !”
“Right you are.”
“I’ve never seen anything like this before!”
“That’s because there’s never been anything like it before.”
“How did you come by these?”
“Hidden camera . . . that sort of stuff.”
“Really? This is . . . incredible. It’s . . . demented . . . perverse . . . it’s beyond pornography - not that I’m any kind of a sewer - I mean connoisseur, of that sort of thing - although they are - hidden camera, did you say?”
“Yes, I did.”
“They are of surprisingly high quality.”
“That’s mostly due to the subjects themselves.”
“They’re . . . ve-ry photogenic.”
“To say the least.”
“And - get this . . . there’s no airbrushing.”
“You’re kidding! I could’ve sworn - not that I’m all that familiar with that sort of thing, you understand, but - are you sure?”
“What you see is how they they really are.”
“Well, these are . . . stimulating.”
“Yes, they are.”
“They’re, uh . . . urgent.”
“They’re completely devoid of redeeming social value.”
“You, uh . . . got any more?”
It had begun innocently enough: Protectors seeking to conceal their most alluring attributes as a means to woo their sorely needed Messenger. But things got out of hand. Maybe it was because Protectors had never had to compete for attention before. Uniformed or naked, each had been the only one of her kind on a planet. Here...
Everyone had become so accustomed to seeing these physically perfect women nude that none gave it a thought any longer. But then, all of a sudden, without explanation, the Protectors began to cover their impossibly gorgeous bodies. It was a thing unheard of—undreamed of . . . and it quickly came to fascinate.
Crowds would gather whenever a Protector was spotted in the marketplace. All waited to see if she would cover herself, and, if so . . . how. Photogs started taking pictures of Protectors in various states of dress, and selling copies of the prints . . . at progressively higher prices.
As if the shame of their having to share a Messenger wasn’t enough, now they had a quadruple X rating to deal with.
“What hurts the most,” Britt’a complained tearfully, “is that we’ve done nothing to merit this!”
“Those sick bastards!” Can’dy grumbled.
Shopping for concealments became their most closely guarded secret. An army of paparazzi had infiltrated the marketplace of Binkley’s World - prowling for Protectors who were . . . vulnerable. Some, when caught, would simply throw up their hands: “Please don’t shoot!” they’d cry.
Others, like L’yn, were more direct: “How’d you like a telephoto lens enema?” Often a Protector would bribe a merchant to open his stall to her alone long after hours in the depth of night. They would come heavily disguised—terrified of being discovered. Some merchants took them for fools, admitting a well-armed paparazzi to hide just before a Protector was scheduled to arrive.
It didn’t stop there. Virtually all of the wily merchants of Binkley’s World took advantage of the Protectors’ appalling naiveté with regard to clothes. They used the opportunity to unload a bunch of useless junk on them—at horribly inflated prices.
On top of all that, word had gotten out about Shad’rah’s upcoming sexual duel with Aurean known as Ediphus Wrecks. Nobody was supposed to know about it outside the Integration Program, but the Aureans, predictably, fell all over themselves bragging about Ed and his capabilities, even while the Velorians steadfastly maintained a dignified, if strained silence.
It could have happened only on Binkley’s World, where mostly inexperienced Protectors – the majority of them auxiliary class – had been drawn into a social experiment without ever being asked, without ever being prepared.
Unlike the Protectors of old, who almost invariably served alone on their assigned worlds and might never see fellow Velorians save for Messengers on their rounds, most of the auxiliaries of Binkley’s World had been rushed through training and then thrown together into their new assignment – a new kind of assignment.
Unlike the Protectors of old, they had not been born to a destiny. They had not, like the P1 daughters of great families, grown up knowing that, when they turned 16, they must force open the Great Door if they could -- and accept whatever came after. They did not have the support of their families, or of glorious (if often tragic) family tradition.
They had only themselves. They might be gorgeous and powerful and invulnerable, but they were also naēve, susceptible – like ordinary young people everywhere – to fads and fashions and foolery. That including the foolery of competing for men – well, one man. The Protectors of old had never had to lack for male attention.
* * *
Now word had come that the Messenger they all awaited was arriving on a transport carrier. None of the Protectors knew what this meant, although they supposed that he must have been instructed to save all his orgone for them, rather than expend even a drop of it flying here under his own power.
Every Protector not on duty was present at the passenger debarking platform. Those who couldn’t be present were represented by 3-D holograms of themselves.
“All right Protectors,” Bea’trice announced to call her group to order, “we want this messenger alive. Understood?”
Every blonde head that was physically present dutifully nodded.
“So there will be no spontaneous sex when he gets off,” Bea instructed with care.
Cha’rise raised her hand.
“Yes, Cha?” Bea acknowledged.
“How can he get off without sex?” Cha’rise wished to know.
“A joke that bad should put you at the back of the line,” said Bea, who continued with the business at hand.
“There will be no chest smothering,” she instructed further, “no groin greetings.”
She paused here to adopt a significant look of dire warning that was lost to none.
“And there will be - no . . . flying leg locks,” she stressed to add.
“Holy Galen,” Cass’andra whispered to Britt’a, “she’s just took all the meaning out of a simple, ‘Hello’.”
Deb’ra raised a hand. Bea acknowledged her with a nod.
“Can he greet us in traditional Velorian fashion, man to woman?” she asked.
“If he so chooses,” Bea answered.
There were several sighs of relief. All of them had sorely missed their breasts being casually fondled.
“At least we might get some-thing out of it,” a notably irked Mar’go noted. “I don’t know about anyone else,” said Mon’ique, “but if he puts his paws on me, I fully intend to breathe deep, and lean in.”
Bea’trice looked over the Protectors under her charge.
“I assume that you all have your attribute concealments of choice?” she inquired.
Again, the blonde heads nodded. The holograms were already concealed.
“I have it on good authority that the area has been secured for us,” reported Bea, “so you may don your concealments at your leisure without risk of being photographed.”
The Protectors went about concealing their most alluring attributes with the concealments they had chosen. The atmosphere was tense, however, with several of them frequently casting nervous glances over their shoulders. The paparazzi had been merciless at catching these poor girls dressed, and all of them had learned to be ever wary.
“The area’s secured . . . the area’s secured,” Fa’un recited like a mantra, her hands trembling as she struggled to put on her concealment. “The area’s secured . . . “
“It damned well better be,” Car’ol promised to her neighbor, who happened to be Kath’y, “because if I see one photog, my tits are going to be the last things he lays eyes on.”
Tra’cy gave her Velorian sister a knowing smirk that was somewhat smug.
“You don’t lay eyes, dummy,” she duly informed Car’ol of the all too obvious, “you lay hands.”
L’yn had to smile.
“I lay lovers,” she slyly divulged.
Hea’ther looked at L’yn askance.
“Quite the hot-twat, aren’t you,” she noted.
L’yn turned her smile Hea’ther’s way.
“Come up, and see me sometime,” she dared. “I’ll put blisters on your tongue.”
The ready light suddenly went on above the debarking platform. The space craft’s passenger door was about to be opened.
“He’s coming!” Bea’trice hailed to alert the group.
The seal of the airlock hissed as it released. The door of the craft slid open. Every Protector held her breath.
Passengers began to emerge, both humanoid, and alien. Friends, and relatives beamed, and waved, and scurried to hug several of the arrivees. The Protectors stood in stoic formation amid the happy confusion. When most of the others had dispersed, there appeared in the transport’s doorway a man of singular appearance.
He was tallish -- like a Velorian male, and he was blonde—like a Velorian male, and he had a long pole -- held in the grip of one hand. The pole was gently tapered from butt to tip, standing at slightly greater than the man’s height, and had what looked like a spool of plastic string with a crank attached to its lower end. The man was dressed not unlike a Velorian male of advanced years, and looked to be of an age becoming to experience. He wore a hat decorated with a dense variety of baubles that looked—to a Protector—invitingly lethal.
“Is that . . . him?” Kath’y wondered quietly.
“Could be as well as not,” was as far as Mar’tha was willing to venture.
“I’ve heard of wearing your heart on your sleeve,” Cass’andra observed of the man’s curious, but interesting hat, “but wearing your sex toys on your head? That’s a new one on me.”
“See that sharp, three pronged number by his left temple?” asked Shell’y.
“Oh yeah . . . ,” oozed Mon’ique. “Mmmm I would not mind feeling that.”
“Sounds like you’re feeling it already,” Britt’a noted.
“Not—at—aaaaallll,” Mon’ique continued to ooze.
“Eah,” L’yn sneered, “I’d probably get two strokes out of it before it melted.”
The platform was all but deserted now, save for the Protectors. No one else emerged from the craft. There was just the lone blonde man standing in the doorway with his strange looking hat, and his strange looking pole, and his overall look of . . . much experience.
Bea’trice swallowed hard, then stepped forward to manage introductions.
“Are you,” she tentatively inquired of the man, “the . . . messenger?”
“Yup!” the man barked in a friendly way. “That’s me!”
Bea’trice smiled her diplomatic best.
“The Auxiliary Protectors of Binkley’s World extend you welcome,” she officially greeted the messenger, and then she appeared to wait expectantly.
“Uh, Br’uce,” said the Messenger, hastening to take up the slack left by Bea’s subtle prompt. “The name is Br’uce.”
He extended his hand to Bea, which she accepted. While this was going on, Tra’cy cast a suspicious look toward Fa’un, who stood nearby.
“I’m group leader Bea’trice,” Bea identified herself to Bru’ce, then she turned to present her group to him.
“And these,” she informed Br’uce with an inclusive wave of her free hand, “are your Protectors.”
There they were; over a dozen of them. Protectors; every one. Each the pinnacle of physical perfection—gorgeous beyond words, desirable beyond words, insatiable . . . beyond words - giving, and demanding . . . uh, beyond words. The array of womanly beauty that stood before him—there for him alone—their genetically gifted bodies aching for that most primitive form of fulfillment—it was enough to take any man’s breath away, rendering him . . . beyond words.
But this was no ordinary man—not that he was a man of words. He was a very special man. He was a Velorian messenger - a member of that particular breed of human male bred, and trained to serve a Velorian Protector’s particular requirements. He was a man who could rise to any occasion. A solid man—upstanding, and outstanding—a pillar of strength. A man who would neither bend to pressure, yield under stress, or go off half-cocked. He was a man of endurance, a man of resilience and he was hung like a….
They didn’t have a word for “horse.”
Br’uce looked out over the smorgasbord of erotic confections that stood before him, and he found cause to smile, and he found cause to sigh.
Three more years to retirement.
“Hokay,” he raised his voice to announce, clapping his hands together to give them a sturdy rub, “who’s first?”
“The privilege of selecting who will be your first, Br’uce,” Bea quietly explained to him, “is all yours.”
Br’uce eyed the Protectors’ Group Leader.
“Ya don’t say,” he addressed her somewhat warily.
Bea gave him a knowing smile.
“Hokay,” Br’uce reiterated cautiously, “let’s see what we got here.”
Br’uce once more surveyed his private menu of Nordic, blonde perfection. He’d seen Protectors uniformed before, and, of course, he’d seen Protectors nude, but he’d never seen Protectors who looked like this bunch.
There was one who wore a pair of earmuffs over her ears. This struck Br’uce as odd, because the climate of Binkley’s World was really quite pleasant, aside from which, she was a Velorian Protector. Ten thousand degrees above, or below zero shouldn’t’ve make a wit of difference to her.
Can’t mean she’s really frigid, in her head any more than in....
Another wore a scarf tied around her lower face in such a way as to effectively cover her mouth.
A poster girl for oral hygiene if I ever saw one, Br’uce surmised.
Yet another Protector had achieved the same effect, though with greater economy of means, by applying a thin film of brightly colored paste to her mouth.
Green lips, Br’uce noted, then, yeah right . . .
One had had the novel idea of using paint to conceal the nails of her hands, and feet.
There’s something to be said for pastel, Br’uce considered, unfortunately she doesn’t say it.
Another had taken a broad band of steel, and wrapped it around her waist in order to hide her navel.
She ever hear of a belt? Br’uce wondered.
Another had simply ‘plugged’ her belly button with a borrowed jewel, and some sturdy glue. Some girls’ll do anything to have an ‘outie.’
Another had tied some strands of string about her pelvis in order to fasten a pretty flower to her sacrum.
A G-string without the ‘G’.
There was even one Protector who wore a pair of bunny slippers on her feet.
That stumped Br’uce, who didn’t even know about the local equivalent of a bunny, let alone slippers.
After he’d gotten a look at a number of his new Protectors, Br’uce had cause to think, These girls need to get out more often.
And then he saw . . . her. A Protector so singular in appearance that she easily stood out from the rest. A Protector unlike any he had ever known before. A Protector of such compelling allure, such captivating mystery, such Damn! She ain’t even usin’ pheromones!
Of their own, Br’uce’s legs began to move, bringing him closer to the mysterious Protector. He let his experienced eyes linger over her Supremis form; from the toes of her gorgeous feet, to her long, muscular legs, to a pelvis that contained the power of the universe, and which possessed the knowledge to use that power to its fullest, to the deliciously tapered, yet strongly modeled waist, to the expansive chest with all of its full, ripe curves, the magnificent breasts with all of their full, ripe curves, the supple arms, the broad, powerful shoulders, the brown paper bag over her head.
Char’lene watched the Messenger looking at her. She thrilled within the secure confines of her concealment. Of all the available, enhanced Velorian women there for his choosing, the messenger had seen her alone - had approached her alone—and it hadn’t been her tits, or her pussy that had attracted him - not even the sum of her entire, groin wrenchingly beautiful, nude Supremis body had caught his eye! But it was her face - her most alluring attribute—her face . . . the one part of her he could not see.
“What’s in the bag?” Br’uce asked the mysteriously veiled Protector.
Char’lene blushed! She was so happy!
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” she managed to reply in an even tone.
Br’uce scrutinized the eyes he could see just beyond the surface of the bag. He smiled amiably.
“Well, yes I would actually,” he responded, “otherwise I wouldn’t’ve asked.”
Char’lene was positively tingling with excitement! She was certain that he was interested in her! - that he wanted her! - she so hope.
“Let me be your first,” she promised, “and I’ll reveal all to you.”
Br’uce weighed every one of the mysterious Protector’s words most carefully. Even without pheromones, hers proved to be an offer he could not resist.
“Okay,” he said, “I’ll bite.”
“I hope so!” Char’lene exclaimed before she realized it.
And so it was done. The Messenger’s first lover had been chosen. Bea’trice pressed a button on the control she had, and the holograms vanished, then she whisked Br’uce away to his quarters while he was still in one piece.
The other Protectors gathered around Char’lene to congratulate her. Though disappointed for themselves, they were genuinely happy for her. All of them pressed their breasts to hers in the sincerest gesture of Velorian good faith. Char’lene thanked every one of her sisters, and even felt the awkward need to apologize for her good fortune.
“Ah!” L’yn admonished her. “None of that.”
“But we do expect a full report of every caress, and every kiss,” said Mar’go.
“And every thrust, don’t forget,” Britt’a added.
“And every nip, and every bite.”
“Along with the start, and stop points of every trail his tongue makes on your body.”
“Exact location, including tongue wetness, tongue pressure, pauses to swirl, lash, or vibrate.”
“And where he does these, of course.”
“And for how long.”
“And how hard.”
“Girls! Girls!” Fa’un hastened to interject. “It’s okay. I made up a check sheet.”
The thing was as thick as a telephone book. The winner was duly bestowed.
“Gee, guys, I really appreciate this,” Char granted, though doubtfully, “but I think I’m gonna be a little . . . busy, y’know.”
Mon’ique took her by the shoulders to regard her seriously.
“Char’lie,” she said, “before any job is finished, ya gotta do the paper work.”
* * *
Paperwork was the last thing on James’ mind that day. Memos and messages accumulated in his office unread. Calls went unanswered. He was only vaguely aware of what was going on outside his quarters.
“Turnabout is fair play,” Bidu teased. "Can you take the heat?"
It was only after he had undressed her with his eyes the day before that she had told him she could return he favor. All he had to do was find some old clothes for the occasion, and he’d complied – he wanted to keep his uniform, which didn’t – like a Protector’s -- have to be made from nearly indestructible vitamartix Something casual would do.
James assumed the position – hands on hips – in the same room where he had burned off her own clothes. Wearing a long-sleeve shirt, pants and underwear, he stood proudly but with a smile on his face as her eyes lit up – literally. She hadn’t always known that she had heat vision; neither had James. They had discovered it only after she had been tested at the Academy, and she still hadn’t mastered it when they had parted on Velor.
But she was a master now. She started slow, aiming at his chest. A frail would have felt only a warm glow, and James didn’t even feel that. But when his shirt began to smolder, he could see the smoke rising past his eyes as he gazed into hers. As she stepped up her power, it burned away, along with the undershirt beneath. He looked now; the flames were working their way down his pants, and within seconds his superhard cock burst through them, aimed at his wife – like a compass needle pointed true North.
Bidu lowered her eyes then, concentrating on his shaft. Red hot it grew, then yellow and finally white. Even Vendorian steel would have softened by now, but James’ manhood grew even harder, if that were possible, and its aim never wavered. It felt deliciously warm now, and James felt deliciously warm inside at the thought of her love – and of what she was about to do now.
With the grace of an acrobat, she leaped towards him, spreading her legs and making a perfect landing, her cunt engulfing his glowing cock. Steam burst from around it as she took him to the hilt, her pleasure buds reveling in the sensation even as James reveled in her tightness. Invulnerable cock and invulnerable cunt exploded with pleasure and then exploded again, and again. And that was before they even began thrusting.
And that was only the start of another day of Velorian love, love more intense and prolonged than any a frail could even imagine.
James had things he needed to tell Bidu. They went unsaid. Bidu had things she needed to tell James. They too went unsaid. They had all the time in the world for each other -- they thought. But events were closing in on them. Some they knew nothing of, but should have.
* * *
Oon’ah, and Xanthra decided to go for a swim that afternoon after Oon’ah had gotten off duty. They were still dealing with a lot of flack from the Aurean Primes about being assigned to the Velorian civilians, and the Protectors were putting in their two credits worth over being “stuck” with the Aurean Betas. Both of the Supremis found that they were getting a lot of practice in the diplomatic art of smoothing ruffled feathers.
They went to the shore of the White Lady Sea where there had once been a popular spa. The Aureans had destroyed it for a minor infraction while the planet was under Empire rule. The resort was on the Binkleyan agenda for reconstruction, but fresh drinking water, and Vandorian steel both claimed a higher priority at the time. Still, even though in ruins, Binkleyans gravitated to the idyllic haven of sun, surf, and sand.
“Are you going swimming in your uniform?” Xanthra asked her Velorian as they made their way.
The corners of Oon’ah’s mouth pursed as she gave her Aurean a droll look. Being the only Protector hardly ever seen nude in public did leave her open to a certain amount of ragging.
“No, silly,” she answered succinctly. “I’m not going to wear my uniform to swim.”
“You mean,” Xanthra gasped with elaborate affect, “you’re going to . . . you’re actually going t - oh Skietra, I feel faint - I mean, just the thought of - no . . . it’s too much - it can’t be true . . . I’m trembling - are you really - I mean . . . really—“
Oon’ah suppressed a giggle, then took her hand into her own, and Xanthra instantly shut up.
“I have a swim suit,” she related quietly.
They walked along, hand in hand, thrilling in each other’s company.
“How’s Shad’ar doing?” Xanthra asked after a time.
“You mean, Shad’rah?”
“Mm, yeah. Sorry.”
“Not good,” said Oon’ah.
The Aurean’s jaw tightened as she looked out over the water.
“Ed’s getting bigger, bolder and badder by the day,” she said.
Oon’ah looked her way.
“Is he giving you trouble?”
Xanthra lowered her eyes. A little smile played briefly along her lips.
“He knows better,” she almost whispered.
“The match is tomorrow night,” said Oon’ah vacantly.
Xanthra gave her hand a reassuring squeeze, hoping to relieve some of the oppressive care.
They found Shad’rah sunning herself on the escarpment. Her hair flowed down from the back of her reclining head like a gentle sea of straw colored waves. Even in complete repose, she glowed with the vitality of life perfected.
They saw the glorious symbiosis of life in what they observed as Sha’drah presented her naked self to the sun in humble homage, and she allowed the sun to worship her. She was as perfect an example as could be had of the fabled Velorian maternity engine firing on all cylinders. Even by Velorian standards she was remarkable - her beauty . . . flawless.
“She’s so young,” Oon’ah observed with somber wistfulness.
Xanthra felt her lover’s feeling. She clutched the tapered muscle at the base of Oon’ah’s shoulder, and gave it a firm squeeze. “Just like we once were, huh Puss?” she offered softly.
The two of them stood by watching the youth in silence for awhile.
“Old Aurean proverb,” Xanthra recalled, “’Any Protector can be made to submit’.”
Oon’ah knew of it, but had never wanted to believe it. Now, however, she wondered.
“Old Velorian proverb,” she offered as a contrast, “’Any Protector can be made to ascend’.”
Xanthra thought this over in the spirit of comparison.
“Hm,” she murmured, “it’s an interesting variation.”
“Submission - death,” said Oon’ah, “to us there is no difference.”
Xanthra frowned. She looked askance at Oon’ah.
“Who said anything about ‘death’?” she asked.
Oon’ah turned to regard her other.
“That’s what ascension is, isn’t it?” she inquired. “Ascension to a higher plane after death?”
The Aurean’s frown deepened.”For frails, yes,” she answered. “Or so they say. But does the same apply to us? And does it apply in the same way?”
This got Oon’ah thinking. She looked back at Shad’rah. “So . . . what does ‘ascension’ mean to us?” she wondered.
“Well,” Xanthra offered, “the term ‘ascend’ means ‘uplift’ . . . ‘to raise up’ . . . ‘higher.’”
Oon’ah still looked at Shad’rah, but she no longer saw her.
“ . . . ‘higher’ . . . ,” she seemed to ask, “ . . . in what way . . . ?”
“ . . . ‘uplift’ . . . ,” Xanthra murmured thoughtfully, “ . . . ‘to raise up’ . . . “
“ . . . from death . . . “
“ . . . but for those who can’t be killed - “
“. . . by any other than extraordinary means.”
They were now looking intently at one another. More so than they had before. They were on the verge of something, and both of them knew it.
“Uplift . . . “ said Xanthra in the breathless voice of shared epiphany.
* * *
"Before we get carried away," Bidu said to his face between her breasts, "I have news from home."
James’ eyes rolled up to observe her face.
"Umphumph," he replied.
Bidu rolled her eyes in exaspiration, then gripped the hair at the back of his head, and used it to pull him from the depths of her cleavage.
"Repeat that," she instructed him drolly.
"Really?" James complied.
Satisfied, Bidu returned his face to her bosom, holding the back of his head to encourage him to settle in.
"Alisa's contacted your mother," she told him.
"Umph! . . . gumph! - umbph!"
She let him struggle a bit before releasing him - that should teach him 'empty', and 'meaningless'.
"What!?" James gasped at her when he was finally free to speak.
"Your sister, Alisa," Bidu related. "She's contacted your mother."
Memories flooded back to him of his younger sister - the troubles she'd brought upon herself . . . her exile.
"How is she?" he so wished to know.
"She has a family now," Bidu told him. "A husband, and three little ones."
"Three!" James exclaimed. "Goodness, I'm an uncle thrice over all of a sudden."
"They named their first born Lillith," Bidu went on to say. "She wants to become a Protector."
"No way," James scoffed. "Never happen - especially not after - "
"Alisa's heard about the amnesty Velor has offered," said Bidu, cutting him off. "She knows that it's provisions apply to her, and that those same provisions apply equally to her descendents."
"Still," James cautioned, "Regardless of the girl's parentage she is not a native of Velor, because she was born off planet. That alone would eliminate her from the Protector program. Aside from that she's nature bred. Any flaws in her gene sets have not been corrected by the Maternity Engine. And if that isn't enough, she's being raised, and educated in a foreign culture -- i.e., none Velorian. Even were she being tutored by the best Velorian teachers, her loyalties would always be suspect."
"Now that you've quoted chapter, and verse of protocol," Bidu granted him in a tired way, "Mom says that things are changing on Velor."
"Your mother - my mother in law - Naomi," his wife attempted to specify.
Sometimes her man could be so dense.
"Don't forget," she then continued, "that not too long ago, my enhancement would have been not only illegal, but cause for high treason, and punishable by death."
"But you're a Legionnaire," James reminded her. "And Legionnaires aren't Protectors."
"Yet," said Bidu as a statement.
James had to smile, and hold her close. He knew she was playing devil's advocate.
"Don't get your hopes up, babe," he told her seriously, but in good humor. "The Velorian senate isn't going to move that fast."
Bidu became still, then she slowly drew herself away from him just enough to give him a significant look, and then she waited.
Aaaaaannd she waited . . .
"Is it?" James began to wonder.
Bidu burst out laughing. Her entire body shivered from thrill as she took him, and snuggled, and snuggled. She'd had him, they knew it, and they loved for it. James thrilled at his minx, and the feel of her wonderful body against him. Still, he gave her bottom a resounding *THWACK* -- to teach her a lesson, of course -- and Bidu squealed, and snuggled the more. She would've been very disappointed if he hadn't disciplined her.
"Seriously though," James broke in on Bidu's tender, but determined offerings of affection, "what does mom make of this?"
"Personally," Bidu related, "she couldn't be happier to have a Protector for a granddaughter."
“I sure hope we can make it to the Rites.”
“Is there a problem?”
“Binkley’s World is always a problem, as you’ve doubtless heard.”
“I’ve heard…” Bidu said, but went no further.
“Still, it could be worse. The program’s working – after a fashion. Bea’trice tells me they’ve got a sporting match set up for tonight – Protector versus Prime. Strictly sparring, of course. She thinks our champion will take theirs. Good for morale. They’ll need some, what with their getting only one Messenger. “
“I’ve heard about that, too.”
“Maybe we need an auxiliary Messenger Corps,” James opined. “Some of those bureaucrats back on Velor don’t know dick about what we need out here.”
They don’t know dick about a lot of things happening here, he thought. But he didn’t want to talk about that – not yet. He had to make his case, and make them understand. It helped to be the son-in-law of the prime minister, of course. It would help even more to have Bidu as his messenger. She’d come through for him. He was sure of it.
* * *
From the beach, Oon’ah, and Xanthra had hastened to Oon’ah’s office where her computer could access the main Velorian database. What they’d realized had both of them so buzzed they felt like they’d just had sex.
“Gives a whole new meaning to the phrase, ‘Fucking with your head’”, Xanthra noted.
As soon as they’d arrived at her ‘glorified broom closet’, as Oon’ah called it, she’d brought up Velor’s main page, accessed the main database, then began working her way inside. After more than an hour of wading through classified procedures, and documents, Oon’ah got to the file she wanted, but she also found that it was forbidden.
“You got an access code?” Xanthra asked over her shoulder.
“I’ve got several,” Oon’ah answered.
She began, but quickly found herself stymied. One code after another failed to remove the forbidden block. It wasn’t long before Oon’ah had exhausted a carefully harvested personal stash of codes she’d only moments before been proud of.
“This stuff must really be sensitive,” she was none too pleased to admit.
Xanthra looked at Oon’ah thoughtfully.
“To who?” she inquired academically.
She took over Oon’ah’s keypad.
“Maybe there’s a back door to this,” she wondered quietly.
Xanthra shifted the computer into language input mode, then pecked away at blinding speed for several thousand strokes. When she was finished a few seconds later, she shifted the machine back into communal mode, leaned back and then said, “There.”
Oon’ah sat forward to look at the screen, and then she sat back again.
“There - what?” she wanted to know.
Xanthra looked back at the screen.
“Oops,” she said.
She executed a final key stroke.
Oon’ah looked back to the screen to see a cascade of multi colored pixels raining down beneath its surface similar to video ‘snow’. Like colored pixels started to fix themselves on the screen, and a background began to appear. After a few seconds, lettering took shape. When it was through, bold type stared back at her from the screen.
“’Beware whoever ventures in,’” she read.
The two quietly regarded one another for a moment, or, possibly, even two.
“Feeling venturesome?” she inquired of Oon’ah lightly.
Oon’ah wasn’t sure about an Aurean comfort unit being able to hack a secured Velorian data base.
“Remind me to debrief you one of these days,” she said.
The pad of her forefinger struck the ‘enter’ key.
“Woah, this stuff is old,” she immediately noted when the first page appeared. “It’s in old Velorian. Whoever recorded it sure didn't want to make things easy for us.”
Old Velorian had been heavily influenced by Galen, and had been used only for ceremonial purposes since their departure, like Latin in the Catholic Church on distant Earth.
“Looks like it was written on parchment,” Xanthra observed.
“It was probably scanned into the data base from the original document,” Oon’ah ventured to speculate.
The two of them spent some moments studying the ancient text.
“’Thesi n sof ka tiezu rin’,” Xanthra hesitantly read aloud. “You know what that means?”
“Not really,” Oon’ah admitted freely. “Let me put it through a translator.
* * *
The site chosen for the grudge match between Ed and Shad’rah was an old, space raid shelter at a remote site outside the capital. Nestled in the clearing of a wooded area, it was an above ground structure of steel clad concrete that had four foot thick walls.
The bare interior was roughly fifteen by thirty feet with a twenty foot high ceiling. In preparation for its new-found use, all stored items had been removed, and every opening was carefully sealed shut. A new door was installed at the entryway -- made of an experimental grade of Vendorian steel the Binkleyans wanted to test.
An eighty-foot high scaffolding had been hastily erected a hundred feet from the front of the shelter to keep out media and the general public at bay. This was supposed to an Integration Program event, open only to Velorians, Aureans and such Binkleyans as had been partnered.
A Binkleyan judging panel would monitor the proceedings. The Protectors were charged with maintaining crowd control, and seeing to public safety. They were outfitted with comlinks so that Group Leader Bea'trice could receive information, and issue instructions to any one, or all of them, anywhere on the site.
The Aureans were allowed to mingle with the crowd on condition that they behaved themselves. A number of Beta Civs were on hand to help keep them in line. Those unlucky Protectors assigned to space patrol that night were accommodated with comlinks that would give them updates on the match. It being the Velorian messenger's first night of official duty on Binkley's World, Char'lene was granted liberty for the night.
Ed arrived amid a sizable entourage of typically strutting Primes, and typically subdued Betas. They treated him like a champion upon whom conferring victory was a mere formality. Given the Aureans notoriety for being 'good for a quote', the media swarmed around them like flies drawn to dung.
"By morning there will be one less Velorian cunt in the universe," Ed declared.
His clacque could not agree to this vociferously enough.
Equal time was grudgingly given to the Velorians. Their dignified manner, as well as their overall attitude of calm throughout the media's coverage leading up to the event had not exactly been a ratings bonanza. The fact that no Protector would consent to being interviewed while wearing cloths didn't help matters.
"We are confident that Shad'rah will represent her people in the best Velorian tradition," Bea'trice quietly granted the microphones shoved in her face.
All the Protectors were beautifully turned out in their uniforms. They'd gathered behind Bea as a show of solidarity, forming a lovely background for their leader.
It was noted that Shad'rah had not yet arrived at the event site.
Bea attractively averted her eyes, and smiled shyly. When she looked back to the cameras, she said, "It's a woman's prerogative to be late for a date."
That was a convenient cover, but, in point of actual fact, no one knew where Shad'rah was. With every aspect of her training for the match having gone so lamentably bad, the Velorians were afraid the youth may have panicked at the last minute, and split for parts unknown. Were that the case, and she didn't show, Ed would be declared the winner by default.
When Shad'rah's absence was first discovered, the Protectors had heatedly debated whether to search for her, or to simply trust that she would come. A vote among them had narrowly decided on trust. Now, however, it was getting late, and there was still no sign of her. None of them had a clue as to the young Protector's whereabouts, but there were two who knew exactly where Shad'rah was, and where she'd been for several hours.
* * *
"Xanthra!" Shad'rah greeted the strange Aurean with surprise a moment before caution took hold. "Where's Oon'ah?" she then inquired warily.
"I'm right her, Shaddie," Oon'ah assured the youth as she appeared in the doorway of the Protector's barracks. "So . . . it's okay."
They knew Shad'rah was alone in the barracks - ostensibly to prepare herself mentally for her night with Ed. All the other Protectors were either on duty, or busy making final preparations for that night.
Oon'ah seemed nervous, and ill-at-ease.
"Could we, uh . . . see you for a minute?" she asked Shad'rah for herself, and Xanthra.
"Sure," the young Protector agreed most amiably.
She stepped outside to join the pair. At ounce, Xanthra began to make herself familiar.
"Mm, you got nice buns for a limpy," she oozed.
Shad'rah turned to face the Aurean.
"Xanthra," she forthrightly requested, "I'd appreciate it if you didn't call me that."
The words were scarcely out of her mouth when Shad'rah felt a ring close 'round her neck. A heavy mental fog immediately overtook her accompanied by oppressive physical weakness, and unbidden sexual arousal. Instinctively she knew that the thing around her neck was an unbroken band of gold.
"Wha - ?"
Xanthra drove her fist against the girl's cheek. Shad'rah fell back. Oon'ah caught her from behind. Disoriented as she was, Shad'rah rightly perceived threat. She struggled to stand - tried to fight back. Xanthra took the flailing youth in arms, and held her.
"Get the other band on 'er!" she ordered.
Despite her wearing protective gloves, Oon'ah's hands shook as she took a ring of pure gold from the lead lined pouch she had. It was exactly like the first ring. She undid the clasp, then encircled Shad'rah's neck with it.
Once the second band was closed Shad'rah was overcome with nausea. More of her mind deserted her. She raised her hands to her throat, but couldn't remember how to make her fingers work.
"Give 'er to me," said Oon'ah.
Xanthra complied. Oon'ah took the barely conscious girl, and held her up as Xanthra closed her fist again. Through severely faded vision, Shad'rah saw a face, and dark, black hair.
"Why?" she scarcely breathed.
She collapsed in Oon'ah's arms, and moved no more.
"It's for your own good," Xanthra told the unconscious youth, working out her fingers.
Her eyes shifted to focus on Oon'ah. She saw her look of pained concern. It was a shared look -- a shared feeling, that neither of them wanted.
"At least we hope so," Oon'ah said.
* * *
They could feel her presence long before they saw her. There was something -- no, someone in the air. She appeared out of the distance toward the mountains, the overpowering impression of her being multiplying as she neared - the fact of her excluding all else from every living consciousness. All watched her come - none could do else. Shad'rah made her final approach to lightly touch her feet to the ground near the shelter.
At once an impenetrable wall of Velorian Protectors surrounded the youth. "We were getting worried," a tense Hea'ther quietly told Shad'rah.
"Hea'ther, stow it," Bea'trice ordered.
Those closest looked the girl over. There was something - no, someone. So powerful! Such presence they'd never known before.
"Are you okay, Shaddie?" Fa'un cautiously inquired.
"Fa'un," Bea merely warned.
She regarded the girl carefully, and then again more carefully.
"Shad'rah?" she whispered to address her.
Shad'rah slowly turned Bea's way. She might have heard her - might have not. She might have seen her - might have not. It was impossible to tell, but there was no denying the power of her life.
Bea felt her – felt her! The girl's mere presence nearly overwhelmed her. Bea found herself struggling not to throw away restraint - to throw it all away! - to share! There! Now! And she could tell at that moment that Shad'rah was as ready for this contest as she would ever be.
"Skietra be with you," said Bea, a sure smile toying about her lips. She lightly clutched Shad'rah's arm, and was almost stunned to feel a jolt of life surge through her. It was wondrous! Glorious! Velorian.
With neither word nor notice, Shad'rah left her. She walked directly to the entry of the shelter. All concerned made respectful way for her -- except the Beta civs. They assailed her with a barrage of questions. Shad'rah passed them by with neither word, or notice.
"Any last words, Shad'rah!" one demanded of her.
In an instant his hand held grew so hot he had to drop it. He looked to see a fading redness in L'yn's eyes.
"One more question like that," she assured, "and I'll scramble that shit in your head you call brains."
Bea watched Shad'rah go, holding the hand she'd touched her with as she lightly worked the fingers. Ba'be noticed, and drew near.
"Bea, is she all right?" she directly asked her.
Bea watched after Shad'rah. She watched after her.
"Suddenly," she answered Ba'be with the vagueness of one preoccupied, "there's something more to her than I expected."
All who'd gathered watched Shad'rah go. Velorian, Aurean, Binkleyan. At the door, Ed greeted her with gallant mockery. Shad'rah passed him by to enter the shelter with neither word, or notice.
The Protectors silently mourned as they watched the black interior take her from view. They were certain it would be the last they'd see of her -- the last time any of them would see the beautiful girl alive. They admired the calm with which she went to certain death. They were proud of her.
Ed quaffed the dregs from a vial of Aurean mead that had been given him. His clack joined him in barking the Aurean mating call, then he waved to the cameras, and crowd as he turned, and sauntered his way into the shelter.
The new test grade Vendorian steel door was closed, and the Binkleyan judges began securing the many latches, and locks. While this was going on, the chief judge made a general announcement that the door was to remain locked until the following dawn, upon which it would be opened, and the winner of the match determined. The judges quickly finished with the door, but no sooner was the final lock in place then there was heard an unBinkleyan *WHAM!* from within the shelter, and the convex impression of a human form appeared in the length of the door.
The sight prompted a number of Protectors to prayer.
* * *
Char'lene extinguished the heat ray from her eyes as the final candle lit. Everything was ready. The place, the dinner, her. She carefully surveyed her preparations. She'd squandered more than a month's worth of credits on her evening. She'd stayed an extra hour in her trip to the sun - and then an hour more.
She wanted to be sure that there would be no mistaking her intentions. Her stupendous body overfilled her evening dress to the point of audibly straining some seams. It was black, and covered her from her breasts to her ankles. It cradled the full taper of her back, and molded perfectly over the many contours of her tummy. She liked the way she looked -- the way the garment hugged her. She was confident that she could burst completely out of it at just the proper moment. So what if it had cost more than a week of credits. For the evening she had planned, the expense would be more than worth it.
A little dinner, and then . . .
The stitching in her darts began to stretch apart suddenly. Char'lene clutched her breasts very firmly.
Down girl ! she thought at her body. Don't want to have a blowout - at least not yet.
She fought to control herself, smoothing the dress over her waist, and hips. She studied her reflection.
Adornment does add to a woman's allure, she concluded.
In future, she resolved to go nude whenever she was off duty - except for very special occasions.
. . . special . . . occasion . . .
Her dress began to strain again.
Ugh! she thought. I have to fight for control so I can loose control - doesn't make sense. Maybe I should put the gold on now, she considered.
There was a knock on the door.
Char'lene's heart fluttered. Her breath caught in her chest.
It is him! she knew. He has come for me - at last!
She flew to the door. A final moment to smooth, and pat -- to make sure all was right. She took a deep breath - but stopped far short of bursting her dress. She licked her lips, a final pat, then, with trembling hands, she opened the door, and there stood the answer to all her prayers.
"Hi," Br'uce greeted her easily.
Char'lene was startled, but she recovered from the mild disappointment of having not been sexed on the spot. She wondered if there was something wrong with her appearance -- if she'd missed something.
"Hello," she greeted him with a shyness she wasn't the least bit used to. She'd so looked forward to this! She wanted everything to be perfect - as perfect as she knew she was. She was so lucky to have been chosen first!
She gazed at Br'uce through the doorway. He gazed back at her
"Oh," she suddenly gushed," I'm sorry." She stepped away from the doorway, opening the door wide. "Won't you come in, please."
"Thanks," said Br'uce, stepping inside. He looked about the place as Char'lene silently closed the door after him.
She heard him blow an appreciative whistle.
Oh, Skietra! she sighed.
She felt so weak, and she wasn't anywhere near her gold!
He whistled at me!
"Nice place," Br'uce said, still looking about.
"Oh, it's . . . nothing," Char'lene said, fighting like Aurea to control her knees as she supported herself against the door. "I don't mind splurging for . . . special occasions."
"Hm," Br'uce grunted.
He turned about, and looked at Char'lene.
"Must've cost you a bundle.
"Oh, what's a couple credits here, or there?" Char'lene tried to dismiss with a wave of her hand. "Would you like something to drink?" she queried, floating her way to the bedroom. She felt it best not to trust her legs for walking at the moment. "I was just finishing getting dressed."
"What's the point of that?" Br'uce asked, following her with his eyes. "We both know why we're here."
Char'lene stopped dead in the air as she suddenly lost all her breath. She felt so faint! She wanted to die she was so happy!
""There's a bar over there," she said by way of formal hospitality. "It's fully stocked; "help yourself."
"Thanks, don't mind if I do," said Br'uce.
He make his way to the bar.
"It's never a bad idea to have a stiff one before dinner."
Char'lene couldn't believe what she'd just heard, but something told her not to ask Br'uce to repeat himself.
* * *
The moment the door had been shut, Ed had taken Shad'rah's head into the maw of a single hand, and hurled her against it. Her lithe, young form had struck with such force that it sank into the test-grade Vendorian steel. The Destroyer wasn't wasting any time. As Shad'rah lay within the impression her body had made, Ed summoned the vast store of energy he'd taken from his recent mates.
Outside the enclosure, nobody knew what was happening but everyone wanted to know – including the local media people who had shown up when word got around..
"Can we get inside!" one newshound shouted at the solid line of dour looking Protectors standing guard.
"My station will pay seventeen million credits for a live cam!" called another
"Twenty-two million for one with sound!"
The Protectors, led by Bea’trice, withstood the daunting battery of offers, demands and pleas.
Shad'rah exhumed herself from the door as Ed's empowerment completed.
What she saw was a monster standing more than half as wide as he was tall. Ed's body had become a pulsing mass of vein encapsulated muscle. His swollen arms rested at ridiculous angles to his body from the sheer volume of energy bloated flesh. His pectorals alone were so gigantic they billowed up to frame his chin. His thighs were nearly spherical, forcing his feet to a wide stance. But as big as he was, as massive as he'd become, it was as nothing compared to what was between his legs.
From the base of his groin erupted a huge, corded log that was easily a foot long, and over two inches thick. A dense jungle of bluish veins as big around as Shad'rah's thumb laced its surface beneath a drum-taut skin. The head resembled a plum, its deep purple surface being heavily modeled like a bloom of cauliflower. It danced threateningly in the air as the shaft behind it visibly pulsed, and throbbed.
Ed was so enthralled with himself that he'd become thoroughly aroused. He regarded his mate for the night, and felt a whole new level of contempt for her, and her kind. He saw that she was small, and knew that he was big. He saw her to be weak, and knew himself to be strong. He saw her as soft, and he was hard - so in-credibly hard! The raw awareness of his potent fullness made him even more. His nuts grew to the size of tennis balls, teeming with power to make her his. He would steal her energy, and make himself a god!
With a lumbering gait, Ed closed the distance between himself, and his victim. Without so much as a, 'How d' ya do?', he took Shad'rah by the pelvis, presented his throbbing tip to her vestibule, then rammed their bodies together.
Shad'rah cried out, and then went completely limp, seemingly shattered by the violence of his entry. The shock wave of their joining cracked welds throughout the structure.
Nestled in the singular grip of Velorian femininity, Ed nearly swooned with the sense of his own might. He could feel himself in the young Protector as with no other. The fact of her - what she was - and helpless - to him. It made him even bolder. He clutched her pelvis harder, his living weapon surging deeper - growing stronger. He felt the bulb of her cervix on his straining tip -- it drove him wild! He would have this bitch - own her - kill her! His nuts grew tight beneath the base of his shaft. Deeper . . . stronger . . . give her his love . . . take everything! Almost there . . . he came to feel the relaxed beat of Shad'rah's Velorian heart.
Relaxed . . .
Something was not right. Ed looked at his victim. Looked at her hard.
Something was not right.
"You aren't afraid," he wondered of the girl.
Shad'rah roused. Her calm, blue eyes slowly opened to look on Ed. She saw him -- looked at him . . . saw him. "Should I be?" she queried to reply.
* * *
Oon'ah's fist struck the side of Shad'rah's jaw so hard the blow sent the youth's gorgeous body cartwheeling along the rock for hundreds of yards before it finally flopped to a stop.
They'd taken her to the mountains for special training.
"Hold 'er up," Oon'ah told Xanthra.
They flew to where the girl had landed. They found her lying face down, struggling to raise herself up on an elbow.
"Guess there's still some life left in 'er," Xanthra observed.
She descended to drive her heel between Shad'rah's shoulder blades, pushing the nearly senseless Protector into the rock she lay on.
"Get 'er up. C'mon," Oon'ah urged again.
They'd taken turns. Both were nude - Oon'ah having stripped out of her uniform.
Xanthra gathered Shad'rah from behind under her arms, and held her up for Oon'ah.
Both of them breathed heavily from expended effort.
Their bodies stank with glowing sweat.
Xanthra regarded Oon'ah over the young girl's shoulder.
"You hit like a boy," she deliberately jeered.
Oon'ah roared, and, in a heartbeat, her muscles inflated like balloons. Summoning the power of her enhanced Supremis strength, she flexed a pair of the biggest, hardest arms in all the universe, then drove her fist against the center of Shad'rah's forehead.
Xanthra's feet skidded backwards over bare rock for more than half a mile before she got herself, and Shad'rah stopped.
Still big, and hungry for more, Oon'ah flew to rejoin the pair, masturbating with singular purpose. She paused in the air to grunt as her huge muscles suddenly hardened, her ensuing orgasm having the desired effect of making her already massive physique even more enormous.
She felt giddy, and light headed - drunk on her own body. She was as close to the enhanced P1 muscle expansion factor of X10 as she'd ever been. Her skin felt so incredibly tight! Her muscles so deliciously full! She'd never let herself go like this - not even with her one true love.
If this were anything like Shad'rah was about to feel, she would gladly have submitted herself. As it was, she would give the youth her lesson. She! Oon'ah B'Té - nude Supremis wonder! With a lusty growl she flexed the sum of her astounding muscles to unleash a crushing orgasm that fully liberated her, and then she pounded, and pounded, and pounded the girl as Xanthra struggled to hold her!
* * *
Ed saw Shad'rah smile at him, and then he felt a crushing agony throughout his manhood. The girl had summoned the fabled Velorian control of her vaginal muscles, and closed herself around him. In spite of the monstrous strength of his arousal, engorging blood rushed from its goal, straining the return paths of his circulatory system. The pain was so intense, Ed cried out through gritted teeth. Within seconds, Shad'rah had reduced his pride to the dimensions of a toothpick.
He needed to free himself -- to rethink his strategy -- regroup. He pushed against the crests of Shad'rah's iliacs, but he could not extract himself by so much as a fraction of an inch.
Fastened to him, Shad'rah smiled, and lightly laughed at him.
"Leaving so soon?" she taunted.
Ed pushed at her with all his strength, but Shad'rah's grip on him was total. Her control complete.
"You're not going anywhere, big boy," she told him as she squeezed him tighter, then relaxed . . . squeezed him, then relaxed. "At least not anywhere I don't want you to go."
She raised a hand to cup the side of his face, forcing him to look at her.
"And you are," she cooed seductively, "such a - big - boy."
Ed saw the girl's face harden, and then he felt the forces she exerted on him change. He was growing in her, unintended, and at a rate he'd never thought possible before. The arteries feeding his engorgement strained to obey the command of Shad'rah's womanhood. Within seconds, she'd compelled him to agonizing fullness.
Panic-stricken, Ed looked on Shad'rah. Where before he'd seen a victim, now he saw a tormentor.
"You're a cunt," he said to realize. "You're a total cunt!"
Shad'rah looked back at him. The effort she expended to control him was as nothing to her. Ed watched the expression on her girlish face change, her lips taking on the shape of a truly terrifying leer, and Ed recognized the look of a consummate predator to whom mercy was a thing unknown.
"Yeah . . . ," Shad'rah agreed through the heavy breath of impending lust.
* * *
Char'lene appeared in the doorway to the bedroom, her little gold chain in place. The weakness, and arousal coupled with months of torturous abstinence . . . she'd had to devote several minutes to pleasuring her own breasts just to keep from going insane!
"I'm ready," she said in a tone no man could mistake. His drink in hand, Br'uce turned to look at her, and looked at her without looking her up, and down.
"Great," he responded. "Let's eat."
* * *
Shad'rah could feel Ed's fear as keenly as she felt his solid mass. She liked the feel of both, and then, just for giggles, she grew him even more.
Ed felt his pain increase again as his body strained to obey the commands this young Velorian imposed on him. If it weren't for the invincible structure of his Supremis tissues, he would've exploded inside her. His pain level passed into the realm of agony as Shad'rah continued to demand of him.
What this girl was doing to him was beyond everything he knew. How could this Velorian bitch -- a child -- defeat two hundred years of Aurean life experience? Ed's mind went into panic. She was going to kill him -- he was sure! He struggled, and flailed blindly to free himself. He screamed, and cried pathetically. In a lucid instant, granted by raw instinct to survive, he smashed his fist against Shad'rah's face with all the strength he had.
At once, his pain increased ten fold. His punch had thrown Shad'rah to the far end of the enclosure, but her hold on him was such that she'd taken his body with her. If it hadn't been for the invincible structure of his Supremis tissues, she would have torn him out by the root.
The force of his punch had been so great that the back of Shad'rah's head, and the backs of her shoulders make deep impressions in the thick, steel lining of the wall on impact. She had to've felt that one, Ed needed to think - he sorely prayed! She had to've felt something! and, yes, she did seem dazed as she floated out of the cavity her body had made, but then Ed realized that she was completely unfazed by his attack on her. Shad'rah raised her eyes to him. She did not look pleased.
"You shouldn't have done that, Ed," she warned her lover carefully. "Now you've made me mad."
She bared her teeth with determined malice, and then she squeezed.
* * *
By an ankle, Oon'ah swung Shad'rah overhead, and slammed her into solid rock. The hard earth shattered from the impact of the young Protector's Supremis body. Oon'ah had completely let the muscle lust for mayhem overtake her as she'd wrecked horrible violence on the girl. She'd become the worst of monsters - loving the hell she'd wrought.
"Time out, Puss!" Xanthra called to her.
She knew the mindset - knew the lust - knew that it was impossible to not get carried away. Oon'ah had already pulled her back from it a number of times. They were each other's check.
Oon'ah came back to her senses, then simply let herself drop to the ground as her body returned to normal.
"Shaddie . . . " she whimpered from the personal well of remorse. "Oh, Shaddie, I'm sorry . . . "
Xanthra rose into the air. In an instant her build was gigantic.
"I'll take her for awhile," she said. "She's got to be close now."
She released her own monster as her muscles grew increasingly fuller, harder, stronger. With a savage roar she dove at Shad'rah where she lay, then both the Aurean, and the young Velorian disappeared into the rock below.
Numb, but not nearly numb enough, Oon'ah watched the crater of the hole the two had made, and she listened . . . listened to the awful violence that her love could make. With the two of them it was different: Both fully powered -- battling to death without actual harm -- godly pleasure they alone could endure! But Shad'rah was weakened by the two bands of gold they'd placed around her neck. There was no joy in what they'd done to her, but, somehow, it had to be.
Oon'ah raised a hand to shove the damp hair from her face. She so longed for nothing! She tried to sort it out.
The forbidden rite they'd hacked from the Velorian database said that any Protector could be made to ascend - but only from the lowest ebb of life. So to this they'd pummeled the debilitated youth - for hours they beat her - the gold around her neck making her defenseless against their abuse. Through the relentless heaping up of physical pain, they stole her dignity, they broke her will, they devastated her perfected body and tore apart her wonderful mind. They'd reduced her to the lowest point of existence - the lowest ebb of life - a mere vibration. All of this in preparation for the second phase of their instruction.
Herein lay the danger, though, and what made the rite taboo. The use of energy at the onset of Supremis coma could cancel it while multiplying its cumulative affect for an undetermined span of time. Virtually nothing was known of this since the risk was great, the introduction of raw energy into a weakened subject almost always having resulted in the subject's total disintegration.
Xanthra's howls of anguish echoed through the rock, and into Oon'ah's ears as she continued Shad'rah's punishment. Oon'ah pressed her hands over her ears to block it out -- so wanting to block all of it out! With Shad'rah's youth, and Ed's experience - what they were doing - they were certain it was her only chance. To survive! It was her only chance!
Shad'rah's body burst through the top of a rocky peak a quarter mile away. It arced on ascent, then began to fall. Oon'ah saw her approaching. Shad'rah fell a ways in front of her, her limp body striking the rocky plateau with a sickening splat.
At almost the same instant, Xanthra exploded through the face of the cliff they were at throbbing with ferocious aggression!
"Hold it!" Oon'ah shouted.
She threw herself at her Aurean, clutching her from behind. Her lover's touch brought Xanthra back, and she let herself relax. Oon'ah gazed at Shad'rah as Xanthra worked to recover her breath. The Aurean was exhausted from beating the youth, her thoroughly dampened body streaming rivulets of sweat.
Both of them watched Shad'rah intently.
"She's stopped breathing," Xanthra noted.
"No movement at all," Oon'ah added.
"Check 'er eyes," Xanthra instructed.
Oon'ah flew to the youth as Xanthra took to the air, and tried to relax. The stress of thrashing such an innocent greatly upset her. Oon'ah used her tachyon vision to perform a retinal scan of both of Shad'rah's eyes. She sent a pair of mild heat beams into the girl's eyes, then checked again.
"No retinal activity," Oon'ah reported.
Xanthra paused in the air, and looked at Oon'ah.
"Then we've got Supremis coma," she stated.
Oon'ah regarded the Aurean.
"We've got one more check to make," she said.
Xanthra knew what that meant. She fetched the protective gloves as Oon'ah removed the strip of lead tape they'd placed over the gold bands around Shad'rah's neck to shield them from any effects of the gold. Once they were exposed, just the sight of the two gold bands made Oon'ah feel weak.
"Get back, Puss," Xanthra said at her side as she finished pulling the gloves onto her hands. "Let me do this."
Reluctantly, Oon'ah made way.
"Don't expect a reaction on the first one," Oon'ah cautioned as Xanthra set to work, "but the second one - watch out."
After she'd undone the hook, Xanthra successfully removed the first band of gold from around Shad'rah's neck, and slipped it into the lead-lined envelope Oon'ah held for her. Then she carefully unhooked the second band.
"I'm going to get this off 'er, and then move back fast," she warned. "Okay?"
"I'm ready," said Oon'ah at her shoulder. "Do it."
Xanthra slipped the second gold band from Shad'rah's neck, then both of them engaged their volati in full reverse to distance themselves from the violent reenergizing Shad'rah's body would be subjected to once free of the gold. The rebalancing of a fully empowered Supremis endocrine system always resulted in the release of dangerous electromagnetic forces, and tremendous waste heat.
The second gold band found its way into the envelope. Shad'rah still lay motionless on the rock.
"No reaction," Xanthra noted. "Nothing."
It was the surest sign of Supremis coma.
"Get 'er on her back!" Oon'ah commanded.
She flew to the package they'd brought with them, and quickly began undoing the ties of the blanket around it. Without question, Xanthra ditched the gloves, and rolled Shad'rah's limp body over.
"She's going cold," she observed, carefully laying the girl on her back. She looked up at Oon'ah. "Are you sure about this?"
Oon'ah finished unwrapping the package. When she'd discarded the blanket, she was hefting an XP7 orgone cannon – once a secret weapon of the Aureans, but which had found a rare -- and classified -- use as a medical device.
"The document said three points in succession, and gave the locations," she related.
She flicked the activation switch on the cannon. Immediately, its lights came on, and the accelerator began to whine.
"There were parts of that text we couldn't make out," Xanthra said anxiously. "Even the translator failed. Tech stuff."
Oon'ah admired Xanthra's concern, but she knew they'd already gone too far to retreat. She set her jaw, and set the weapon's charge to full.
"It doesn't make much difference now," she said. "This is the only hope we've got to bring 'er back."
The accelerator's whine rose in pitch. Oon'ah lowered the long, conical barrel with its flared, bell end, set the shoulder brace, then aimed the XP7 point blank at Shad'rah's heart.
The whining stopped. There was an audio *ping*.
"Stand clear," said Oon'ah.
* * *
"Being as . . . mature - as you are," Char'lene attempted to converse with Br'uce as they dined, "you must be a messenger of - broad experience, and . . . many talents."
"Yeah, I've learned a thing or two in my time," Br'uce granted, though modestly. Have you ever heard about--"
Char'lene was as close to heaven as she'd been in months. It was happening! He was hers, and she was his. They would be together for an entire night! She could feel her dress straining against her increasingly warming body -- a body that longed to be ravished! -- craved to be filled! -- needed to be driven to the brink, and beyond! She didn't give a damn if she exploded her dress right then.
* * *
Idly kneading her breasts as she experimented with his size, and shape, Shad'rah sat astride her lover as he lay helpless on the floor. In under an hour she'd brought him to excruciating peak -- and then denied him, no fewer than a hundred times.
She alone controlled every facet of their coupling. He could neither force her, or woo her. She was as unresponsive to his taunts, and threats as she was to his cries, and pleas. She was every bit the monster he had planned to be -- his own intentions turned against him.
* * *
"Man, has this thing got a kick!" Oon'ah called to Xanthra, returning from where she'd been dispatched by the XP7's recoil.
She'd been thrown roughly half a mile. Xanthra had Shad'rah on the ground, lying on her stomach.
"Tell me about it," the Aurean rejoined, meticulously parting Shad'rah's hair at the back of her head. "I just pulled her out of a three foot deep hole in the rock."
She could hear the whine of the XP7. Oon'ah had the weapon on recharge. The Velorian floated to the ground, and stood beyond Shad'rah's feet.
"How's she doing?" Oon'ah asked with regard to Shad'rah.
Xanthra looked up at her, and then she smiled.
"She took the blast," she reported. "Her heart is glowing."
Oon'ah was both relieved, and encouraged to hear this.
"Way t' go Shaddie," she said with an easy lilt.
The whine rose in pitch. Oon'ah lowered the barrel.
"Next one," she said, setting her aim, "back of the head."
"The most direct route to the brain," Xanthra added.
The cannon went *ping*.
"Oh, uh," Xanthra called.
Oon'ah looked at her beyond the XP7's site.
"Hm?" she wondered.
"I've got her facing away from the wall of the cliff," she informed her love. "It's about a hundred feet behind you." She smiled again. "That way, when you pull the trigger, you won't go so far."
Taking into account the XP7's recoil, Oon'ah took a moment to consider being slapped upside the face of a cliff.
"You're so thoughtful," she granted her love with just the right touch of mockery to her tone.
Xanthra blew her a kiss.
"Clear," said Oon'ah.
* * *
Ed was joined with one of the most glorious creatures in all the universe, and his wretchedness could not have been more complete. She was a force of life; fundamental, basic, without concern. Her purpose was to express herself, and she would have herself be known.
Shad'rah focused on her pleasure, and grew her mate to suit her. Ed cried out, but it was useless for him. He was nothing to her - a mere means to her end.
She rose into the air, taking him with her as her hands caressed the backs of her thighs. She caressed her hips, her belly, her abdomen, her chest, all leading up to breasts fit to explode with power! She attacked herself, roughly kneading her tremendous melons - breasts so firm it took all the strength in her hands to make them feel the way she wanted. Her body loved her for it as her nipples rose to her occasion. Of its own, her pussy took up a thrusting; sucking Ed in, and spitting him out at regular intervals. It pleased her, but she wanted more - much more!
With an earsplitting howl, Shad'rah released her power! Her orgone-laden breasts ballooned, and her body erupted with unbelievable volumes of muscle. Her thrusting quickened as she rose up higher - higher, breathless with her own magnificence.
Higher, faster, fully, stronger. She was well on her way to achieving a peak -- a pinnacle of pleasure undreamed of. Blinded by determination, Shad'rah was on the verge of unleashing her first orgasm when the back of her head collided with the ceiling.
Like an enraged animal, she roared at the distraction, and then she attacked!
* * *
Mar'tha was one of the ground force of Protectors whose job it was to maintain order in the crowd of spectators. As with the others on the ground, she was also trying to fend off reporters, which was far from easy.
"Get a shot of that!" one ordered, pointing at something behind her. "Are you getting a shot of that!"
Mar'tha turned to search out what the reporter was pointing at. She saw the end of the shelter she was stationed at, and then she saw something she could not believe. The foundation the shelter rested on was slowly rising out of the ground.
Seething with frustrated, life force aggression, Shad'rah had attacked the ceiling with nothing less than her incredible chest. The swollen masses of her super heated breasts sank into the metal they were pitted against. Molten steel flowed like honey over her super powered body. It flowed over the dazzling peaks, and through the gorge-like valleys of her orgone enriched physique. It caressed her skin, it warmed her muscles, it increased her need, her desire, her madness, it drove her will to ever greater heights!
Tra'cy flew down to the raised end of the shelter where a number of worried Protectors had gathered.
"An area of the roof is buckling," she anxiously reported. "It's turned bright red, and the atmosphere around it reads 1,700 degrees, and still rising."
"That's not the only thing that's rising," said Shell'y as increasingly more of the shelter's foundation lost contact with the ground. The entire building, foundation, and all, was tilting at an angle, one end of it suspended in air.
"Is the air duct seal holding?" Bea'trice inquired of Tra'cy.
"Yes," said Tra'cy. "So far…"
The Protectors looked quizzically to one another, then all eyes turned to the rising shelter.
"Shaddie?" L'yn softly wondered.
Shad'rah balled her fists, and roared as she viciously ground her breasts into the softened steel. Far from having challenged her might, it had ceased to even entertain her now. She lowered herself along with the building, and exhumed her breasts from two, perfect, negative molds in the steel. She observed her handiwork, and was not pleased. She was frustrated -- angry -- her body wanted more! With a surly growl, she rose up to ram the ceiling with her chest again, hammering at it with her fists.
The one end of the building rose out of the ground again -- higher, much higher than before. It rose several feet as dirt, and debris sloughed off from the airborne foundation. Bea'trice, Shell'y, Tra'cy and L'yn stood back from the sight, but kept a close eye on what was happening, then the building started to move laterally.
"What the hell is going on in there?" Shell'y exclaimed.
"Be ready to get the crowd back," Bea alerted the Protectors through her comm. link with regard to human safety.
The building slowly pivoted, inching along led by its airborne end. The part of the foundation still submerged rumbled, and ground along the dirt, and rock it sat on. Dor'thy, and Britt'a flew down from their posts.
"Should we push it back?" Dor'thy asked Bea with regard to the moving shelter.
"No," Bea answered as the building ground on. "We must in no way interfere unless predecessor life is threatened."
Shad'rah worked her shoulders, grinding her breasts deeper into the ceiling of the shelter. The warming flow of liquid metal, though, had ceased, and she was reaping nothing more than a dusty cascade of shattered concrete for her efforts. Bored, she lowered herself along with the building again, purring with malcontent.
She felt a thing inside her, and looked to see a blur between her legs. It was only then that Shad'rah realized that her pussy had been on auto-fuck. She slowed the tempo of her vaginal thrusts, and, gradually, a barely conscious Ed came into view. He was dizzy beyond all possible perception, but that hardly mattered to her. She liked the feel of him inside her, and she would have herself be pleased.
* * *
"Ugh!" Oon'ah grunted upon her return, the XP7 in hand.
She'd immediately put the cannon on recharge.
"You okay?" asked Xanthra.
"Yeah," Oon'ah groused, "I just don't like picking rocks outta my crack."
She nodded towards Shad'rah still lying on her stomach.
"How's our girl?"
"Can't tell about brain activity," Xanthra reported, "but her tissue integrity is holding, and her body temperature is getting back to normal."
"It better be with all the orgone we've pumped into 'er so far," Oon'ah commented.
The whine of the XP7's charger continued to rise in pitch.
"Okay," Oon'ah instructed, "lift 'er ass, and spread 'er lips."
Xanthra braced her knees against Sha'drah's shoulders, then took hold of her pelvis, and raised it as Oon'ah wanted. Her fingers found the youth's labia, and pulled them apart to expose the vestibule of her love.
"She doesn't know it, but she's really getting off on this," the Aurean observed, struggling with the slickness of Shad'rah's inner folds.
The senseless Protector lay on one side of her face, and her knees. Oon'ah set the weapon against her shoulder, and peered through the site.
"Lift 'er higher," she ordered.
Xanthra raised Sha'drah's knees from the ground. Her face was all that supported her. The cannon finished recharging. Oon'ah eyed her target.
Sha'drah's aroused flesh compromised Xanthra's hold on her. She gripped harder - pulled harder.
"Any wider, and I'll rip 'er apart!" the struggling Aurean complained.
"Hold her still!" instructed Oon'ah.
Oon'ah placed the barrel of the cannon directly on Sha'drah's heavenly orifice.
"Are you sure about this?" a concerned Xanthra wanted to know.
Oon'ah glanced at her.
"Yeah," she stated with a affirming nod.
She concentrated on fine-tuning her aim.
"Third shot - right in the pussy."
She reset her grip on the cannon, then gritted her teeth, and pulled the trigger.
Both of the Supremis waited.
Oon'ah's second pull on the trigger failed to elicit any response from the cannon. Xanthra looked up at Oon'ah. Oon'ah looked beyond the weapon's site at Xanthra.
"C'mon," Xanthra prompted.
"I'm . . . ," said Oon'ah.
"Shit!" she said, evident fear in her voice.
"Oon'ah!" implored Xanthra.
I don't know!" Oon'ah shot back.
She hastily looked the XP7 over.
"It must've gotten damaged when I hit the rock," she speculated.
"The infusions have to be given within a certain time, or else she's lost," Xanthra told her.
"The window's closing!"
"I - !"
Desperate, Oon'ah reset her aim. Xanthra reset her grip on the senseless youth.
"Oh, Skietra . . . please!"
"C'mon, you stupid - "
"worthless - "
"Scalantran - "
"piece of - "
* * *
Drifting on a razor's edge of conscious, Ed hung by the merest threat Shad'rah had reduced him to. She drew him in - slowly, and felt a warming heat flow throughout her pelvis. It satisfied - and yet . . . She would have more. She would have him more! She tightened the seal around the base of his shaft, and then compelled her genetically perfected vaginal muscles to suck.
Ed groaned from the strain of his induced engorgement. The bigger Shad'rah grew him, the more she wanted. She forced him to ever greater size, bringing him closer to her satisfaction. When, at last, she'd reached contentment, Shad'rah let him slip oh so slowly from her velvety grasp.
It looked like she was giving birth to a tree trunk.
In agony, Ed wept as Shad'rah observed the man she'd made of him. She smiled at her pussy's handiwork. It would do . . . for now.
Slowly, she drew him into herself. Keenly did she feel the grate of every ripple of Ed's gigantic endowment along with the throbbing bulge of every painfully swollen vein. She liked the way he felt in her. She would like it again - and more.
She let him slip away, catching him by the neck of his glans with her vaginal sphincter before he could slip free. She took a moment to ready herself, and then she drew him in a little faster.
Shad'rah arched her back, and sighed as their pubis bumped. She used her hands to stroke his length along her bulging abdomen. She so enjoyed him in her!
She would have more.
She repeated the cycle of release, and pull, increasing the force of her pull each time. Inevitably, as this process ensued, Ed's limp body achieved a momentum that was independent of the workings put upon his captive tool - the increasingly more violent collisions of his pubis against Shad'rah's having the effect of throwing the rest of his body upward with progressively more force. This, ultimately, brought his face into contact with Shad'rah's ripe, Velorian bosom.
Normally, this state of visageus buxomus would begat a happy face, but the orgone content of Shad'rah's breasts gave her tissues the firmness of hardened Vendorian steel. Any object of lessor substance against such breasts, therefore, would necessitate that object's yielding in direct proportion to the velocity of impact. Shad'rah liked the feel of Ed's face colliding with her breasts. She let him slip, then drew him in with such speed, and force that his face crashed violently against her cleavage. He screamed from pain as she squealed from delight!
* * *
The final discharge of the orgone cannon had overloaded every one of its many circuits to expel the sum of its life giving fuel.
Even with her volatai at full forward thrust, the malfunctioning weapon's recoil had thrown Oon'ah hundreds of feet into the air. The impact of its discharge drove Shad'rah face-first into the rock up to her hips, and sent Xanthra skidding on her backside along the cliff.
The ground beneath them suddenly shook with a violence that threw Oon'ah off balance. Xanthra immediately moved to catch her, and both of them fell to the ground. They clung to each other to ride out the quake, but then the plane of solid rock they lay on split between them. They watched, surprised, as the fissure widen, then played their eyes along the gap. It lead to where Shad'rah lay buried in the rock.
One of the young Protector's beautiful feet twitched, and then her gorgeous legs began to stir.
She was alive.
The fissure she was in continued to widen. The full, lush globes of her magnificent rump spasmed once, then twice, and then Shad'rah began to slowly pull herself out of the rock.
Once emerged, she stood on her hands, and knees, straddling the crack. Her blonde, rock littered hair hung all about her bowed head. She was breathing -- so alive! -- her respiration deep, and oddly labored. Her breasts, and pussy glowed like the sun.
Storm clouds gathered overhead as Shad'rah fell over to sit on the ground. Her hair fell away from her face as she leaned back on her extended arms, her raised knees splayed wide open. Her mouth was agape -- her breathing hard, and heavy. Her glowing breasts were great with orgone.
"Shaddie!" Oon'ah called out..
Xanthra held her. Oon'ah stayed.
Shad'rah groaned as life surged within her. An ominous roll of thunder moved across the darkened sky as Oon'ah, and Xanthra watched from below. Shad'rah hung in the air, her glow blinding to the eye. She rose up toward the clouds as they opened to take her in. When she was gone from view there was an earsplitting peal of thunder.
* * *
Floating in the thickening atmosphere of the space raid shelter, Shad'rah pounded Ed into herself with ever increasing force. She fucked herself so hard with him that the impact from the depth of her thrusts sounded like muffled explosions.
Ed's face smashed against her orgone ripened bosom again, and again - harder, and harder. At times Shad'rah would clutch her breasts, entrapping his nose in her cleavage. She'd squeeze as he'd scream, the vibrations of Ed's shrieks reverberating pleasantly throughout her swollen mounds.
She was a force of life, and she would have herself be known. Existence meant expression to her, and the means to that expression was through life affirming pleasure. Shad'rah grunted, and snarled from determined effort. The tempo of her thrusting quickened. She drove herself relentlessly. Ed became a blur between her legs. She labored mightily - for expression . . . harder - faster . . . more!
A bolt of orgone arced between her nipples lighting up the dark interior. A moment later a second bolt flashed from her groin to strike a nipple, then her other nipple fired a bolt that attacked her groin.
The erotic triad had been achieved. It multiplied the power of Shad'rah's lust even as her super powered body fought to release that lust. Her arousal fed upon itself until her breasts and pussy were fully engaged in an endless sharing of supercharged orgone!
It consumed her mind with the rawest need as her super sensitized body forced her over-stimulated brain to endure the final, highest peak of annihilating pleasure. It was a level to which no being could aspire. Even a Velorian would've found such intensity unbearable. It was pleasure that both denied, and confirmed - pleasure that derived from the very source of life. It demanded of her -- even as it gave to her.
It exacted a choice to either end there, or to continue -- a choice between life, and death. A decision to either die within the throes of agonizing bliss, or to go on, and live to search for even greater heights! To surrender the hope of there being anything more, or to search again -- to reach again, to dare again -- and Shad'rah selected life!
A stupendous eruption was heard from within the shelter. Walls bulged - welds cracked -- sealed openings ruptured open! The foundation of the structure quaked, then crumbled. The sealed air duct in the roof exploded, throwing shattered concrete, and melted steel, far into the night time sky.
"Protectors!" Bea'trice ordered in response to the crisis. "Evacuate the area! Get everybody back!"
A beacon of light shot into the sky from the breached air duct as the Protectors flew to duty. Teeming luminescence could be seen in the depths of the structure's cracks. Crackling orgone arced over the shelter's steel surface, then converged to race upward into the atmosphere ushering in an explosion that shook the area!
* * *
Oon'ah, and Xanthra watched in wonder as the clouds evaporated to show her standing in the air. She was life itself, the energy they'd provided her having merged with her living state to form an embodiment of power, and will. She was a force of life.
She saw them -- set upon them. There was no escape. They had unleashed her, and so they rightfully belonged to her. They had carefully stripped away every restraint that made her a civil being, and exposed the originating impulse that made her live. Once laid bare, they had infused that raw will with the energy of a sun. She was a force of life, and she would have herself be known.
She ordained them both to serve her, and she worked them far beyond exhaustion. By sunset both of them lay unconscious in a burning pool of rock.
But the approach of twilight awakened an awareness in her that there was another who would please her. She was a force of life, and she would have herself be pleased. She would seek out this new resource of pleasure.
* * *
Shad'rah sat astride her lover on the heavily warped, and buckled floor. Ed lay under her, bruised, and battered beyond all recognition. Shad'rah basked in the delirious sexations still coursing through her body. Gratification like she'd never known flowed throughout her being.
But she could feel her contentment ebbing, even as it filled her. Her satisfaction would be short-lived. It would not last long. Soon -- quite soon -- she would have to search again, she would need to reach again, she would be compelled to dare once more.
She looked on the man beneath her. Both of Ed's eyes were blackened, and almost swollen shut. His cheekbones had been reduced to powder. His nose had been made a flattened, reddish pulp. His jaw was crushed, and several of his teeth were missing. His chest was a mass of open, steaming sores from orgone leaking from her bulbous teats.
"Shad'rah!" he begged her softly. "Please!"
Shad'rah leaned over him, and she was pleased. He was alive, and he would share more life with her!
"Oohhh . . . ," she cooed, her voice thick with the beyond of Supremis lust, "but we have all night."
The slits Ed's eyes had become filled with terror as he felt himself begin to grow in her again.
* * *
The sun peaked over the lushly wooded hills outside Emerald City to herald the dawn of a beautiful morning on Binkley's World. Birds sang, and wildlife began to stir.
A warm breeze passed along the meadow, making gentle waves over the tall green grass. But no one noticed the birds, or the breeze, or the tall green grass. No one saw the woods, or the meadow, or the clear, blue sky. No one saw any of it, because the Supremis battle which had pitted Aurean and Velorian against one another in moral combat was formally over.
The space raid shelter lay angled like a sinking ship. one end half submerged in a sea of burnt soil, and cooling bedrock. Its steel skin was thoroughly warped, and purpled from heat exposure. Ash colored slag clung from the troughs of innumerable cracks. The clearing around the shelter was thoroughly blackened, and littered with exploded debris.
The Protectors had been kept busy through the night dissipating the intense heat radiating from the shelter, seeing to human safety and chasing off media types.
The entryway to the shelter was half submerged in sludge-like rock. Britt'a, Car'ol, and Mon'ique excavated a pathway to it as Pat'ricia, Hea'ther, and Mar'go chilled the area with their powerful breath. Even with their efforts, the Vendorian steel door was still too hot to be touched by human hands. Bea'trice was authorized to open it. The half-melted locks, and fractured latches easily failed in her grasp. After that, however, it took some strength to open the door.
A thick, black cloud of rising smoke oozed from beneath the doorway's header. All eyes present watched the shelter's entryway. The morning sunlight barely pierced the darkness within. Nothing seemed to happen for the longest time. Finally, movement could be detected at the bottom of the doorway. All became hushed, and all pressed nearer. The Protector's maintained a public safety line from the doorway.
From within the shelter, at the very bottom of the doorway, from the pitch of darkness, a row of four scant blackened twigs emerged. All who observed gasped at the sight as a fifth twig appeared beside the four. The five were soon seen to be jointed by a common mass that was blackened, dry and scaly. So deeply disturbing was the sight that no one was willing to acknowledge what the thing looked like, until.
"Oh, my God!" Bea cried out.
The thing which had emerged from within the darkness of the shelter into the light of early morn was a human hand. It was shrunken, skeletal, almost void of flesh, encrusted with the merest leavings of charred, and blackened skin.
Everyone watched in horror as the hand placed itself tentatively on the ground beyond the doorway. It was followed by the crown of a head, equally shocking in appearance. It was completely hairless, the scalp being of a texture, and coloring as though it had been thoroughly burnt. Skeletal remains of shoulders emerged, trembling, shaking and weak.
It was a human form, crawling on all fours, so wasted, and spent that it was barely there, and obviously so weak that it could barely move. It was like a crawling bug. A cinder -- blackened, and drawn. It's joints creaked audibly as it labored to propel itself forward. Charred bits of blackened flesh flaked off its wasted, skeletal body.
Once fully emerged from the shelter, the form stopped, unable to move further. It remained on all fours, laboring from exhaustion. Its ribs could be heard grinding in their joints as it struggled to breathe. The form then suddenly pitched forward, falling on its face. Its sunken belly heaved to retch, but failed to disgorge anything more than blackened smoke, and a few bits of char.
There was a moment of stillness, then, almost at once, everyone in the crowd -- Protectors, Aureans and Binkleyan civs -- fell into intense, hushed discussion. Only the chief Binkleyan judge seemed unfazed.
"Awlright," he tentatively ventured, gazing on the form, unable to look away, "which one is it?"
Discussion ensued as to the form's identity. It was either Shad'rah, or it was Ed. No one could tell for sure, especially with the form lying on its stomach.
"The best way to determine gender," the attending Binkleyan physician spoke up, "is to take a look between its legs."
That seemed obvious enough, but then
"We'll have to roll it over to do that," observed one of the judges.
"Which means that somebody's going to have to approach it," said another.
" . . . and touch it," noted a third.
For obvious reasons, no one wanted to do this, but then the form stirred. With painful slowness, it struggled to rise up. It half succeeded, but faltered to collapse back down onto its side, then rolled over onto its back.
As a group, everyone gasped.
There, on the throne of masculine/feminine distinction sat a blackened, withered remnant -- a mere inkling of what might once have been.
Again, no one could tell if the form was man, or woman.
"It's either an awfully big clit," the chief judge ventured warily of the form's evidence of gender, "or a really little dick."
All discussion over the blackened form's identity was abruptly ended when Shad'rah appeared in the doorway of the shelter.
She was whole, resplendent and looked as if she'd just awakened from a refreshing sleep. She slowly levitated from the shelter to present herself to the judges, the crowd, to everyone. Hovering over her defeated lover, it was obvious to all that her night with one of the most deadly known Aurean Primes had left her unscathed.
She was immaculate -- indeed, her natural Velorian beauty possessed a heightened potency. It was impossible to miss -- impossible to resist, and was positively magnified the more by the power of a subdued vitality. Her entire body glowed with life.
Reverential silence greeted the young goddess. Even the media announcers were struck dumb. Bandanas fell as every head was bared, and the sea of spectators lowered themselves to kneel before her.
Bea'trice rose up to face Shad'rah. For a long time, neither spoke as both maintained themselves - gazing on one another - inches apart. Every Protector present looked on the pair . . . waiting.
"I'm all right," Shad'rah meekly said as she lowered her head to her superior.
The youth's demeanor visibly affected Bea. She raised a crooked finger, and pressed the knuckle beneath Shad'rah's chin until the girl's eyes met hers once more.
"Do not lower your eyes to me," she gently admonished her.
"But you looked so concerned," said Shad'rah.
Bea looked on the youth to marvel at her.
"Concerned only that you can't forgive us for having doubted you," she told her.
"I didn't do this by myself," Shad'rah willingly conceded. "I had help."
"Well, of course you did," said Mon'ique who now appeared floating at her side. "We did everything we could to help you."
"No, I - "
"And it looks like our effort paid off," said Hea'ther, joining the three.
"No, really - "
"By the look of her," Car'ol joked, "all she needs is another Prime to keep her happy."
The Protectors gathered around their youngest. Their happy chatter filled her ears as they petted her, caressed her, clutched her, kissed her. All of them were taken by her modesty, and none of them would hear of her diminishing an accomplishment of such magnitude. Single handedly, she had upheld their birthright, and protected their crown.
The Velorian Protectors reigned supreme in the end all, and be all of physical coupling. They were the divinity of sex, the vessels of gods with whom union was any red blooded man's highest aspiration. As his brethren quietly bore Ed away, the victor was declared and the crowd gave rise to hail:
Sha-d'rah! Sha-d'rah! Sha-d'rah!
"You have done us well!" Bea told the youth, clutching her shoulders, tearful with joy. "So well!"
"But -- "
"This girl needs to be seen," said L'yn.
Heeding the crowd, L'yn hoisted Shad'rah onto her shoulder for all to see. The crowd went wild at the sight of their young Protecter - not to mention the kid who'd snagged a come from behind win that would not soon be forgotten.
"Sha-d'rah! Sha-d'rah! Sha-d'rah!"
"Spare a butt-cheek, L'ynnie?" queried Ba'be.
L'yn just smiled, and accommodated her, and Shad'rah sat on a shoulder each as the other Protectors hovered just below. Looking out over the cheering throng, Ba'be breathed in the pungent odor from Shad'rah's skin as she firmly caressed the girl's inner thigh.
"We're proud of ya, kid," she told her quietly.
A dark speck in the cloudy distance would have gone unnoticed had it not been for its erratic nature. It darted randomly, to and fro, across the horizon, and seemed to follow the impulsive flight-path of a housefly. It could also be seen that it was fast approaching.
"Look!" said a Binkleyan, pointing at the growing spec. "Up in the sky!"
His outburst redirected much attention.
"It's a bird!" one declared.
"It's a plane!" another stated.
"It's - "
The speck's identity was revealed. There was Oon'ah, not far off, standing in the ground up to her knees. She was bowed at the waist, her uniform askew, a sorely pained looking Xanthra clinging to her back.
"You couldn't have managed a rougher landing!" the Aurean loudly complained.
Oon'ah, equally pained, pressed a hand to her chest.
"Oowww," she groaned, "my volati is killing me!"
She forcefully shook her shoulders.
"Get off o' me!" she ordered.
But then took the opportunity to ram her knee into Oon'ah's behind.
"You drove yer ass right into my gut," Xanthra went on, bowing herself to nurse her tender tummy, "oww!"
The assault pitched Oon'ah forward. She landed on her outstretched hands - which sank three inches into the ground.
"If you'd held on better!" she countered, righting herself to dispatch her cape from over her head where it had fluttered.
"My left arm's still numb, okay!"
"At least you've got feeling in one of yours! - I could barely get my uniform on."
Aw, go to Velor!"
"I'm from Velor!"
"That explains a lot!"
That does it, Oon'ah decided.
The Velorian slowly turned a darkly clouded visage to face her significant pain in the cunt. After adjusting the hang of her hastily donned uniform, she righting her posture to its most regal stature, planted her fists firmly on the crests of her iliacs with her feet well apart, and wound up to deliver a devastating attack.
"Fuck you!" she stated.
The ominous glower of Xanthra's countenance intensified. With careful deliberation, she turned her naked self to face her bitch above all others. She adopted the defiant pose so characteristic of her Aurean race; ramrod posture with chest held high, wide stance, fists set on hips.
"Fuck - you!" she retaliated for the record.
The set to Oon'ah's jaw tightened. Her eyes narrowed to mere slits.
Xanthra's face hardened further. Her eyes narrowed to mere slits.
They two stood nipple to nipple, the proud thrust of their Supremis chests effectively barring a closer, nose to nose, confrontation. Debilitated as both of them still were from their time in the mountains with Shad'rah, they were ready to go full out until they sensed a number of observing eyes. Both of them became thoroughly unnerved by the disconcerting feeling of having just peed on a parade.
"Oh, uh . . . ," Oon'ah weakly offered to the group, all of whom had been watching them. "Hi."
That not only didn't break any ice, it also failed to cut any mustard.
"Where have you two been?" Mar'go asked with a suspicious tilt to her majestic, blonde head.
There was general consensus in the posing of this question.
"Uh . . . ," was all Oon'ah could think of.
"Oon'ah was showing me the basics of flight patrol," Xanthra quickly offered.
"And that made your arms go numb?" Car'ol inquired of Oon'ah.
"She was . . . gripping me with fear," Oon'ah offered as fast as she could think, "and it, uh . . . cut off my circulation - y'know."
This information caused Britt'a to prick an eyebrow.
"That's a pretty impressive feat of strength," she noted rather dryly with a significant look toward Xanthra, "for a Beta."
"My arms are numb too," Xanthra virtually chirped.
From within the group, Shad'rah spied the pair.
"There are my bitches!" she fairly squealed with joy.
Without hesitation, she flew out to Oon'ah, and Xanthra to gather one under each of her arms. She held them close, and tight, beaming her most glorious smile.
"I want everyone to know," the youth enthusiastically addressed the crowd, not to mention the billions of media viewers galaxy wide, "that my victory here today would not have been possible without –“
That's as far as Shad'rah got before Xanthra took possession of her mouth with her own. She gathered the youth in a full body embrace, intensifying the hunger of her lingering kiss as she gave Oon'ah a look over the flawless curve of Shad'rah's cheek that left no doubt as to her message: Okay, I've got her distracted. Now do something!
The enhancement rite they'd used on Shad'rah being both dangerous, and forbidden, both of them feared that if anyone knew of how they'd prepared the youth for her sex war with Ed, her win might be declared forfeit. For obvious reasons, they couldn't risk detection.
"Without her Velorian heritage," Oon'ah hastened to fill in where Shad'rah had been cut off. "She couldn't've done it without her Velorian heritage."
The focus of everyone's attention, not to mention all the media cameras, shifted to Oon'ah. Helpless, caught unprepared, she looked to Xanthra who merely waved her off. She was keeping Shad'rah busy - as well as keeping her from saying anything that might spill their considerable quantity of beans. Left to her own devices, Oon'ah resolutely hiked up the skirt of her uniform around her waist, and rose into the air to address the crowd.
"Let the word go out," she loudly proclaimed for all to hear, "that Velorian women are the greatest lovers in the universe!"
Ecstatic cheers of, "Marvelous!" "Heavenly!" "Inspiring!" went up from the crowd.
"And the men aren't half bad either," Oon'ah added. She turned herself in the air so all could see her. "When it comes to sex," she continued, "we're tops!"
"And bottoms . . . and all the goodies sandwiched in between."
"We uphold the Velorian credo: Anyone, anytime, anywhere, for no reason at all."
"Nobody does it like a Protector -- you can bet your bottom credit on that."
"To die for!" "Fantastic!"
"And aside from the enhancement thingie, Velorian whoopee makes a darned good dietary supplement -- with only half the calories of regular quim, and no lingering aftertaste."
"More!" "Oh, please!"
Oon'ah took a moment to spy a glance to see how Xanthra, and Shad'rah were doing. The youth was responding to the unusual Aurean's attention with such ravenous hunger one would've thought that she'd gone without for almost a day. She was sexing Xanthra's face with unbridled frenzy. That Xanthra could handle her now showed evidence that Shad'rah was over her orgone buzz, and pretty close to being back to normal. Still, the Aurean had to set her claws into the young girl's buns of steel to even half control her wildly bucking pelvis.
In evident response to the pause in her discourse, the crowd was loudly applauding Oon'ah, and clamoring for more. She knew Shad'rah's orgasms tended to knock her out, and was confident that Xanthra's talents would do the trick. Until then Oon'ah had to satisfy the expectant crowd as best she could. So, she hiked up her skirt even higher around her waist, and soldiered on, to even louder acclaim, extolling the virtues of Velorians singular lack of virtue.
It wasn't long, however, before Xanthra's gifted tongue worked its magic as several sonic booms pulsed through the gathering. The Aurean succeeded in consummating a sexual climax of such consuming intensity that it reduced Shad'rah to a limp and senseless mass of impossibly gorgeous female Velorian flesh.
"The girl's a real mouthful," she remarked.
Bea'trice took personal charge of Shad'rah's steaming, sated body - her mind would return when the effects of her orgasm wore off. The Protectors were dismissed from duty, and everyone began to make their way towards home.
"She might babble incoherently about some . . . super enhancement of some sort when she comes to," Xanthra made a point of advising Bea, "but don't take what she says seriously."
This prompted a questioning frown from the Auxiliary Protector's Group Leader.
"I studied Velorian sexology," Xanthra hastened to clarify, "I mean - psy-chology."
With Shad'rah comfortably cradled in her capable arms, Bea smiled wisely on the unusual Aurean she was finding it difficult to not like.
"Is there a difference?" her soothing voice inquired.
As all were departing, Oon'ah was finally relieved of speechmaking. She lowered her skirt to where it fit more comfortably, and floated down to her one, and only.
"I didn't know I had such a gift for public speaking," she frankly confessed. "Did you get a load of the responses I was getting?"
Pumped from her labor of lust with Shad'rah, Xanthra wasted no time in embracing Oon'ah from behind.
"Oh, but you do have a talent for public display," she confided to her lover's ear.
Her knowing fingers deftly probed beneath the habitually modest Protector's skirt.
"Which lay hidden to all until this day."
Oon'ah thrilled at the familiar touch, and then she suddenly froze to realize.
"Oh, my Skietra, no!" she quietly exclaimed.
"Yes, my Pussy," Xanthra confided further, "you forgot your panties."