Sunday, June 25, 2017

Celestial


Feeling inspired by the science fiction spanking romance I've been working on lately. I made a series of these, so don't be surprised if one of these ends up as a header on Star Talker in future. 

Sinful Sunday

Saturday, June 24, 2017

Star Talker: Part 3: Provocation


Source


I held the Arkiv in front of my face during the trip out of the facility, trying to ignore the metallic stench of blood filling my nose. The Lo'Rahni continued talking to each other as if I weren't even there. The man with the spiral horns was named Rha'han and he was the captain of the unit that had attacked us.

"How many were recovered from this site?" Rha'han said.

Korath tapped away on a tablet of his own. "Fifteen Terran females, eight of breeding age. One Candarri female, of breeding age, but not biocompatible with Lo'Rahni. Two very unhappy Tu... Tu..."

"Tufblachan," I supplied.

"What she said. Maybe."

"What do you mean, maybe?"

"Most humanoid species don't possess the physiology to produce the sounds found in the Tufblachan language. Those two communicate with others exclusively in writing," I said.

"Let me guess. Not biocompatible?"

I snorted. "My guess is no, but the tentacles could be interesting."

Rha'han shuddered beneath me. "Distribute the seven. Put the others and the Candarri in bracelets to be sold later. Deliver the other two back to an appropriate station."

"Don't you mean eight, Captain?" Goat Boy said.

He patted my ass again. "Nope."

I pinched his ass. He didn't even miss a step. I fought off the yelp of pain in my throat as he pinched mine so hard there would probably be a bruise later.

They deposited me in a cell with the rest of the women, who all started talking at once as soon as I landed on the ground. I noticed several were already wearing metal bracelets. Some still had their Arkivs.

"Where are the others?"

I looked down. "The men are all dead."

There was a ripple of horrified gasps. "But why? Why keep us?"

I looked to the Lo'Rahni, who were assuming their places on the ship's bridge.

"Tell them to keep it down, Terran." Rha'han said without looking at her.

Oh, hell no. I turned back to my coworkers. "I don't know why they attacked us, but the ones in bracelets are going to be sold as slaves. The rest of us are breeding stock."

I turned back around to lean on the bars, smiling flippantly at Rha'han as the cacophony of angry shouting erupted behind me.  He whipped around, eyes narrowed. Litai started up this high pitched screech that reminded me of a bird.

"Tell them to stop. Now." His eyes flashed with fury.

I twisted my mouth in thought. I kept our gazes locked. "He wants you to quiet down." I said, barely audible in the din of their outrage.

His golden eyes twitched almost imperceptibly, his mouth thinning to a hard line. He rose from his seat and stalked toward the cage. The angry women around me shrank back as he threw open the door. He wound my braid around his fist, forcing me out of the cell before hurling the door back into place, the mag lock clicking shut. They watched us in silence now as I was pushed into a nearby corridor off the bridge and out of sight.

The relentless march ended in him tossing me into the interior of a cabin. The door slid shut behind him. He turned and placed a finger on a scanner, followed by a beep and another click. He turned back to me, his expression stony.

"You are terrifically bold for a captive. Do you not care what cruelties you might face?" he said, stepping closer.

I remained still in the face of his approach. The cabin wasn't that large. There was no place to run. No place to hide. Even so, I couldn't hope to outrun him anyway. He was long-legged and thickly muscled. He reminded me of a creature from the ancient mythologies. A minotaur, I think it was called, or a satyr. Perhaps a combination of both. The brand on the back of my neck tingled.

"I'm not unfamiliar with your kind. I know what you value. I know that females are rare among your species, which forces you to interbreed with other species. You won't harm me." I lifted my eyes to look at him, but did not lift my head.

"Harm?" he said, rolling up his sleeves. "No."

Rha'han snatched me up and sat down on the edge of the bunk, throwing me effortlessly across his knees. He snaked an arm around my waist, pinning me to his lap. Another hand gripped my braid again, and pulled, lifting me into an arch. His hand fell across my ass with unrelenting force. The sting of it bit through the thin fabric of my trousers. I had expected something like this, but the pain of it still shocked me. I kicked and bucked, trying to throw myself off his lap. He stopped for a brief moment to grab my ankles and resume his assault. Calm and silent, he landed blow after measured blow, giving no hint of respite.

Somewhere in the middle of it, I started crying. I hated myself for it, but there was little else I could do besides dig my nails into the coarse fabric covering his legs. I lay limply across his thighs, only marginally aware that he had stopped. I felt my hair being lifted away from my neck. He ran a thumb over the brand there.

"Where did you get this?"

I sniffed. "It was given to me as a child, when I spent a year on a Lo'Rahni ship after my home station was destroyed by a rogue comet."

"Shit. That makes this far more complicated." He stood quickly, tossing me over his shoulder.

"Where are we going?"

"Med bay."

"Why?"

"I don't have a micro brand in my cabin."


Wicked Wednesday... a place to be wickedly sexy or sexily wicked

Saturday, June 17, 2017

Star Talker: Part 2: What's a goat?




Three Lo'Rahni males stood just inside the doorway of the vault. They were tall, the whole lot of them two meters tall or better. They were humanoid, for the most part. They had skin the color of deep cinnamon similar to the Terrans who descended from the desert regions of Earth, only with a shimmer of gold that gleamed in the bright fluorescent lights. Each had a set of horns sprouting from their foreheads, protrusions of bone that curled and twisted in the fashion of a Terran ram. The most striking feature of their species, aside from the amber eyes, were the additional set of arms each sported.

The one in the center was the shortest of the three, muscular. His hair fell in black braids around his shoulders, his horns spiraling back around his head like a crown. He raked his golden gaze over me and snorted.

"I didn't know Terrans hissed," he said, crossing his lower set of arms.

"They don't," said a thinner man to his right. I recognized him as one of the scientists from a delegation we'd met with several months ago.

The first man chuckled. "A little warrior then?"

"A bit plump for a warrior," said the final man with a snort.

I jabbed the knife in his direction. "Fuck you, you hulking goat!"

He blinked with surprise. "She speaks our language?"

The shorter man furrowed his brow. "What's a goat?"

"A goat is a horned animal on Terra, used for milk and meat," said the scientist. "That is Selena. The Terrans' translator."

The shorter man grinned. "How useful. Take her and put her with the other females."

The rude one strode toward me. I slashed with the plasma knife. He cried out as I made contact with one of his arms. I backed away, holding the knife up, clutching the Arkiv to my chest. My back met the hard flesh of a man. I yelped and whipped around, knife high. Large hands gripped my hips while a third gripped my wrist and the other easily pried the knife from my fingers. Why did they have to have so many damned hands? It was the man with the spiral horns and braids.

"I admire your courage, but we both know you can't win this battle, girl."

He tossed the knife aside and reached for the Arkiv. I twisted and bit the arm closest to my face. His brow furrowed, nostrils flaring. His free hand landed sharply on my left cheek. I blinked, pain blooming in my skin. There hadn't been much force behind it, just enough to smart, but I had little doubt he could have easily broken my neck if he wanted to. However, I knew from studying their language and from conversations with their people that he wouldn't despite the bodies decorating the once immaculate floors of the facility.

"I would advise," he said slowly, as if speaking to a child, "that you cooperate. This could go far worse for you, but, then, you know that, don't you?"

I lifted my chin. "I keep the tablet."

He arched a brow. "You are not in a place to negotiate."

"I'm not negotiating. I am going to cooperate. I'm also keeping my tablet." I gripped it tighter. "It's my work. You can't read it or likely translate it. You have no use for it."

He snorted. "You think we couldn't find another Terran translator to decipher your little computer?"

I stared him straight in the eye. "There are roughly seven thousand Terran languages, modern and extinct. Have fun figuring out first what language my notes are in, and then trying to find another linguist who is not only familiar with Terran languages, but with the subset of languages my notes are in. The odds of a non-Terran linguist being able to translate it are infinitesimal, and given what I saw on the cameras a few minutes ago, I really doubt you're going to get you're hands on another Terran linguist."

There was an uncomfortably long silence.

"I thought you were a xenolinguist?"

I looked at the scientist. I suddenly remembered his name was Korath. "All exoplanetary linguists are xenolinguists, but a girl has to have hobbies."

My captor closed his eyes and winced as if I had given him a headache. "Fine. You keep the tablet." He tossed me over his shoulder, gripping my ankles with one hand and planting the other on my ass.

"Is this really necessary?" I said, now eye level with the toned muscles beneath his black trousers.

He gave my ass a little pat. "Let's see, you attacked my man with a plasma knife and bit me, and I haven't beaten you yet. You really going to complain?"

I stayed silent. Mostly because the "yet" hung in the air like a menacing promise.




Wicked Wednesday... a place to be wickedly sexy or sexily wicked


Tuesday, June 13, 2017

Star Talker: Part 1: Attack



Alarms blared throughout the facility. Lights flashed along the corridors, red, the color of attack. I had never seen the signal lights flash that color before, not in the two years I'd been studying on this planet. Blue signified storms. When the lights were solid green, it meant visitors. The facility had several delegations of the native dominant species visit before. Initially, military probes to determine whether our presence was a threat. Then a few scientists were allowed that we might observe each other. Learn about each other.

A few months ago, the scientists stopped coming. Now I knew why.

"Shit shit shit!"

I ran down the stairs, clutching my Arkiv tablet. I slammed my hand on to the palm reader at each floor barrier. If I got to the basement level, I could lock myself in the pharmacology vault. Hopefully, they wouldn't destroy the facility entirely. Maybe I would be able to find a return vessel, or signal for a rescue pod from a proximal station.

I flew through the final door into the vault, securing the mag locks and throwing the thick steel bars in place. The room was the color of brightly polished pearls, pristine and sterile. It smelled faintly of antiseptic and the powdery chemical scent of pills. Steel refrigerator units lined the walls, each filled with vials of various medications. The temperature controlled safes contained the pill forms. I jerked open the drawers of the prep counter, looking for some semblance of a weapon. Pill cutters, packages of unused syringes, bins of sterile needles. I laid the Arkiv on the counter and crouched to pilfer through the lowest drawer.

An inactive plasma knife gleamed up from a package of surgical instruments. I ripped open the hemp plastic and took the knife flashing it on briefly, to ensure it worked. Snatching the Arkiv back into my hand, I flipped off the overhead lights and sat against the wall behind the counter, keeping it between me and door. The red lights continued to flash, oddly dim in the darkness of the vault. The alarms were muffled now, sounding outside the vault, but thankfully not in it.

I switched on the Arkiv, wondering if I might access the camera network. The wifi tether was still in place, so the natives hadn't destroyed the server room yet. I tapped the camera icon and pressed my thumb to the scanner. Images flickered onto the grid as the streams loaded to the tablet.

My heart stopped. Corpses littered each floor. Doctors in bloodied white coats lay in heaps on the tile. Even the poor old botanist in his dusty apron lay among his plants in the greenhouse, feeding his lifeblood to his verdant children. I scrolled through each image, zooming in on the faces of the fallen. So far, they were all men. Many were Terran, like me. Human. There were a few other races that had joined us here, studying both the planet and us through proximity. The botanist had a coworker, a female Candarri agriculturalist, who had been interested in the cultivation of Terran food sources in alien soils.

Litai had been a tall slender woman with iridescent blue skin. Her eyes were large and round with irises the color of Terran emeralds that seemed to refract light much like a cut and polished gem. Silvery feathers adorned her head in place of hair. I’d found her striking. I also found her missing.

I scanned the cameras again. No corpse. But Litai was nowhere to be found. Instead, teams of large humanoid beings moved quickly through the halls, firing blasters at any male facility staff that crossed their path.

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

I looked up, wondering at the sound that had echoed inside the vault. I looked back to the cameras in time to see every door in the facility fly open. Shit, the emergency release.

The steel bars on the vault door slammed open, making me jump. The sound of the mag lock releasing echoed in the chamber a split second before the door swung open. The lights came back to life, blinding me briefly with their brightness.

“Get the drugs. Take everything.”

They were speaking Klotharan. It was the primary language of the continent the facility stood on. All the visiting scientists had spoken it. From our talks, Lo’Rah, the planet we were on, had several hundred languages, much like Earth, but Klotharan was the most common and the one they used for interstellar communications. I had been studying it for years, among other interstellar languages. I had been brought to Lo’Rah as an interpreter. I guess I suck at my job.

I leapt up from the floor, flicking on the plasma knife and hissed at the invaders before they could round the counter.



Wicked Wednesday... a place to be wickedly sexy or sexily wicked

Thursday, May 4, 2017

Factory Defect

One of the recurring features of my erotica, seems to be a scene that includes cunnilingus. Prior to writing these scenes, I'd only experienced the act personally once, and it wasn't good. Dude bit me...hard. Ow. But, I have a pretty decent imagination, so I could craft an oral sex scene capable of turning myself on. I'm actually pretty proud of those scenes. They're typically the first sexual scenes in my stories as I'm a bit of a foreplay whore and it takes me forever to develop the plot to full on intercourse.

I've since discovered in the last several months, that I don't actually like receiving oral sex. I've long imagined what it would feel like to experience it with someone who actually knew what they were doing. I finally got around to doing just that and...I hated it. It only happened a few times, but each time, it was uncomfortable and sometimes painful.

I had trouble coming to grips with this. I thought there was something wrong with me. It was something I was supposed to enjoy. A lot of women talk about how they get mad if a man refuses to reciprocate on oral sex. I felt bad that my partner was trying to do something to please me and all I wanted was for it to stop. I didn't say that though. I didn't want to deprive him of his pleasure.

I think my body must be weird. My clitoris is pretty deep set anyway, so having to be parted to get to it is very uncomfortable. I'm also not terribly fond of pinpoint stimulation. I can't stand the tiny finger-shaped bullets because of this. I prefer broader coverage.

I've been assured by others that I'm not defective because I don't like it. I've seen plenty of women online claim they hate it, but I still feel like it's something I'm supposed to enjoy. For many it's the fastest way to orgasm. For me, it's never going to happen. I can't blame my partner. I'm sure on anyone else, it would have been a fantastic experience, it just doesn't seem to be a form of stimulation that works for me. I never addressed the subject with him because I didn't want to make him feel bad.

I'll probably still write the scenes in my stories. They're always nice. I just probably won't be requesting the activity in future relationships. I'm perfectly okay without it.