Ambassador Kyn Rokan surveyed the mountains before him. They formed a near impenetrable border between the lands of Danthria, his own nation, and the wildlands beyond, which men called Kenma. The only known pass through the mountains lay a half day or so to the South, according to the maps he kept in cyclinders tied to his saddle, and that was his current destination. He checked the time. The sun would soon disappear beyond the horizon.

“Okay Captain, tell your men to set up camp.”

“Sir, are you sure this is a good idea? Going to Kenma, I mean.”

Kyn sighed at the prospect of having that same argument with the captain all over again. “Just do it, Captain,” he said wearily.

“At once, Sir.” The Captain gave a stiff salute, then turned to give the orders to his twenty soldiers. There were always bandits on the roads, and though swordmanship was included in his list of many talents, he doubted he would be safe alone. Besides, he looked more impressive with a squad of soldiers at his back. Those were his King’s arguments, at least. The Ambassador was a modest man who preferred to travel alone, but the King had insisted that he take some men.

Squad Captains in Danthria were named by their soldiers, usually for physical or personality traits which they possessed. Kyn was unsure of exactly which trait had earned the man the name “Captain Stump.” Whether it was his short, stocky build, or the fact that he had lost his left hand in a skirmish many years ago, Kyn didn’t intend to ask.

Kyn himself was of average height, and he considered his features to be completely unremarkable. A woman had once described him as ruggedly handsome though, a comment which had left him blushing and floundering for words. His usual calm diplomacy completely disappeared when receiving a compliment from the opposite sex. His dark hair was of medium length, and it hung however it liked. He did not bother with the elaborate styles and cuts so popular at court. He had dull grey eyes that seemed more alive than the colour might suggest. His face usually bore a gentle expression, though a scowl seemed to suit him better.

He was aching all over when he climbed down from the saddle and sat by the fire, and he suddenly felt older than his mere twenty six years. Travelling was something his profession required much of, and he would enjoy it if not for the aches it always brought. He was not heavily built, but his slim figure was really quite muscled. He certainly was not a weak man, but riding all day and sleeping on the ground at night was hard on him. After a supper of soldier’s rations, he gratefully retired to his tent.

The party set out at first light the next morning. Kyn pulled his heavy travelling cloak tightly around himself to ward off the chill. They set a good pace and by mid-morning they had reached the path that led into the mountains. It was likely to get colder as they ascended, Kyn knew. That wouldn’t help his aches, but passing through Kenma would save weeks of travel. He decided that the cold would be easier to endure than the trade route which circled around Kenma, passing through two other nations before finally reaching his ultimate destination, Hremmac. Steeling himself, he urged his horse forward.

It was only another hour or two before they reached the small outpost which guarded the pass. The outpost was manned by a small group of soldiers, no doubt bitter about their lot in life, especially if they believed the wild stories about what lay just beyond the border. The man who greeted their party seemed to be one of those people. He had a haunted look about him, and he cast frequent glances up at the mountain pass.

“What’s your business here?” He demanded of Kyn.

The Ambassador raised an eyebrow. He didn’t much care for the man’s tone. “Not my business. The King’s business. We’re just passing through.”

The man stared at him incredulously. “Passing through? Nobody passes through! The demon hordes gather on the other side of these mountains, waiting for the chance to strike. As long as we guard the border, they do not dare enter our lands, but if you go beyond this point then your lives are forfeit. You will be torn asunder by creatures more monstrous than you could imagine!”

Another soldier was approaching. He had grey hair, and he looked like he had actually bathed recently, unlike the first man. He laughed at his comrade. “Do you really think that twelve border guards could prevent an invasion if there really was a hostile force on the other side of those mountains?” He turned and addressed Kyn. “My apologies, Sir. You’re free to pass through, of course. I’d advise you to be careful, though. There may not be demons, but Kenma isn’t a tame land, by any means. It’s been a long while since we saw anyone else going into Kenma, and yet longer still since we saw anyone come out.”

Kyn nodded, “Thank you for your concern.” Unless he was working on a diplomatic agreement, he was a man of few words. He said what he meant, and little more. He noticed that his own soldiers seemed a little nervous after the crazy man’s ranting, and he decided it might be better to push onwards. He urged his horse into motion, and his loyal men followed behind.

As they rode higher into the mountains, Captain Stump drew his horse alongside the Ambassador. “Sir-”

“You don’t think this is a good idea?” Kyn finished for him.

The Captain nodded. “You heard what the man said…”

“Demons? Are you really so naive, Captain?”

“Course not, Sir. I meant the man with grey hair. I don’t believe in demons, but I do believe that Kenma’s a dangerous land.”

“Which land isn’t?” He laughed then. “Maybe I can even persuade a native to sign a trade agreement.”

“A native, Sir? D’you believe there are people here?”

Kyn shrugged. “I suppose a paw print would work just as well.”

The Captain chuckled and seemed to relax.

They were four days in the mountain pass. The wind was bitingly cold, but that was only natural and overall the weather held fine. The fifth day saw them descend into the densely forested region of Kenma proper. Little light penetrated the dense canopy of the trees towering high overhead. The forest would have been alive with colour, but the lack of light made everything dim and muted. Despite this, Kyn thought there was a wild beauty about the place. It was magnificent. The forest was teeming with life, too. Whole choirs of birds sang out from dawn until dusk, and always there were creatures darting around in the brush. Curious creatures which he could not identify.

When night came it was pitch black beneath the trees. The party lit torches and searched for a suitable place to make camp, eventually settling upon a large clearing. The trees were so huge that it didn not feel particularly claustrophobic or enclosed beneath them, but it was still a comfort to be able to see the sky again. The men erected a large bonfire and they all feasted upon various fruits and nuts gathered from the forest, a welcome change from soldier’s rations.

For five days they continued in this fashion, and on the sixth day they awoke to a heavy downpour. They hastily struck camp and dashed into the shelter of the forest. The canopy did not keep the rain out as effectively as it did the light, however. All of the rain seemed to be gathering at certain points in the canopy, and as it fell to the ground it formed thousands of tiny waterfalls. It was a simple enough task to stay dry though, they simply had to step around those thin streams of water.

He looked around. Most of the animals had taken to their shelters, he realized. The forest seemed largely devoid of life this day. He surmised that the creatures had sought their shelters and were waiting out the poor weather. Just then, Captain Stump drew his horse alongside Ambassador Kyn’s again, interrupting his musings. “How far d’you think we’ve come?”

Kyn replied honestly. “It’s difficult to judge. Sometimes I’m not even sure we’re going straight.” He shrugged helplessly. “If I had to guess, I’d say we were about halfway to the Southern border.”

Their horses parted for a moment to avoid the dripping water. “And what’s the border like?”

“According to my maps, the whole Southern border is a swamp.”

The Captain pulled a face. “Swamp? That ain’t goin’ to be pleasant.”

Kyn shrugged. “It shouldn’t take more than a day or two to cross it.” The rain was dampening his mood, and he didn’t feel much like talking, so he sank into a half-doze in his saddle, paying little attention to the passage of time. They plodded onwards.

Idly he noted that the birds were calling out again, and that there was once again movement back among the trees. The rain was still streaming from the canopy though. Something was wrong, but he couldn’t figure out what. The horses seemed nervous too. Kyn glanced at the soldiers behind him. Many of them had their hands near their weapons, and they were surveying the shadows nervously.

Another bird call sounded, and all of a sudden the air was filled with arrows. There was a moment of stunned silence among the soldiers, then startled cries filled the air. Kyn saw the Captain topple from his saddle and lay unmoving upon the ground. The Ambassador threw himself from his saddle just in time to avoid an arrow that had been aimed at him with deadly accuracy. He had instantly realized the disadvantages of fighting from horseback in this terrain. In one fluid motion, he rolled and came to his feet, drawing his sword as he did so.

Yet another bird call sounded, different from the others, and a dozen tall figures burst from the shadows and fell upon him and his men. He blindly engaged the closest one, filled with rage and more than a little fear. He felt a blade bite at his shoulder, but he ignored it and thrust his sword through his attacker’s chest. He noticed the look of surprise on her face as she slid from his blade. It was human. It was a woman. He didn’t have time to think about that, as another one of their assailants was rushing at him. He defended himself, expertly dodging and parrying his opponent’s sword, waiting for an opportunity to strike back. When that opportunity arose, he swung the flat of his blade against the side of her head and she crumpled to the ground. He felled two more in the same manner before he got a chance to breathe.

In a single moment, Kyn surveyed the scene. The ground was littered with his men. He was the only one still standing. There were a dozen women in sight, four of which he had felled. They all wore leather armour. Their forearms were sheathed with leather, but the hands which gripped their weapons were bare. They all wore sturdy boots that ended just below their knees. They also wore a kind of tight leather bodice, to which were attached short leather skirts that left much of their thighs bare. Some of their outfits had been modified with the furs of various animals, and some bore spears, while others wielded swords or daggers. Most also had a bow and a quiver of arrows slung over their shoulders. Their armour seemed designed to allow them maximum movement, and it worked. They were fast, moving with an almost inhuman grace, and they were converging on him.

Kyn raised his sword, preparing to defend himself even though he knew it was hopeless. One of the women, one with raven-coloured hair, spoke loud enough to be heard by all. He didn’t quite catch what it was that she said, but the rest of them stepped back, forming a wide circle around him. Then the woman who had spoken stepped into the circle. She held a large sword in her right hand, and a dagger in her left. She wasted no time in attacking him. Kyn instantly recognized that she was a formidable opponent. Endlessly they traded blows, only ever managing to scratch each other. Her dagger was ever darting past his guard. Every time metal met flesh, gasps arose from the women who watched. He could hear startled exclamations, but he ignored them and focused on his opponent. He was beginning to tire, but the woman who faced him still stood tall, though her skin was glistening and trickles of blood ran from various small wounds. He knew that he fared worse than she did. His arms were numb from blocking her powerful blows, and he knew that he could not last much longer. He charged at her in a last desperate offensive, but his blade met only air as she easily stepped to one side. She struck him on the back of the head with the pommel of her dagger and he fell to the ground, blackness clouding his vision and the voices fading away.

It was night time when Kyn came to. Though to begin with he had not been able to see in the pitch blackness, over the last few days his eyes had become accustomed to the lack of light in the forest. He could just barely discern the outline of a woman nearby. He tried to move, but his hands were bound behind his back. Slowly, the memories of the events leading to this moment returned to him. Captain Stump and his men, all dead… All because of him. He should have listened, should never have led them into this land. In ignoring all of the imaginary dangers, he had ignored the real ones too. But who could have expected that they would be attacked by a group of warrior women? Why had they attacked? Why had they not also killed him?

I have to escape, he thought. No, I have no right to live. I’m the reason those men died. My corpse should lie among them… Kyn continued to battle with his conscience until the sun arose, filling the forest with the dim light of day. He now saw that two more of the women had been sleeping nearby, but now stood examining their equipment. The third must have been keeping watch, he thought. He also realized that the surroundings were familiar. He was still at the site of the battle, but there were no corpses. He was still trying to make sense of that when he was dragged to his feet.

One of the women started to walk. She had raven-coloured hair, and she didn’t carry a bow, but instead had a large sword sheathed at her back and a dagger at her side. She bore various small wounds, and Kyn recognized her as the woman who had beaten him. The woman who had dragged him to his feet suddenly shoved him and pointed after the first woman. He understood her meaning and began to walk, the second woman following right behind him, a constant threatening presence. He looked around for the third woman and spotted her some distance away. She was keeping an arrow trained on him, which he thought completely unnecessary since he was bound, unarmed, and had a splitting headache. What reason do I have to resist, anyway? He thought. I deserve whatever they do to me.

They walked for hours, and every time Kyn slowed the woman behind him would give him a rough shove. The raven-haired woman seemed to be resolutely staring ahead the whole time, but the other two never took their eyes off him. He saw them pluck fruit from the ground or from bushes and eat as they went, and he realized how hungry he was. None of them offered him anything.

Quite suddenly Kyn found himself in an enormous clearing. He stopped and looked around. The trees around the edges were even larger than was usual in the forest, and they all seemed to lean inwards. Despite the enormity of the clearing, the canopy, which towered maybe a thousand feet overhead, still blocked all traces of the sky. On the ground there was something that could only be called a village. Though perhaps town, or even city, would be a more appropriate word, he thought. It was comprised mostly of large, hide tents. Wooden shelters and structures were dotted here and there though. Another shove snapped him out of his awe-inspired reverie and started him moving again.

He followed the raven-haired woman past the animal pens that lay at the outermost edge of the clearing, and then through the ‘streets’ to the middle of the clearing. People were wandering back and forth at various tasks, or on their way in or out of the clearing. The majority of them were women, Kyn noticed. The few men he did see were all naked, and he quickly averted his eyes. After a few minutes of walking, they began to approach a large and rather impressive structure which he assumed to be directly in the centre of everything. The whole thing was constructed with an odd combination of timbers and hide, each one accounting for perhaps half of the overall mass. It looked very much like a small (by civilized standards), somewhat crude palace.

Two women stood guard at the entrance to the palace, and as the raven-haired woman approached them they inclined their heads and made identical gestures with their left hands, then one of them pulled a large fur aside to reveal the entrance. As Kyn followed his captor inside, he noticed that the fur seemed to be all in one piece, he couldn’t identify the animal it had come from, but whatever it was it had been very large. Perhaps the rumours about monstrous beasts had not been entirely false after all.

Once inside, Kyn found himself in a dim hallway. The walls were made of hide which had been fitted to sturdy wooden frames. There were other rooms and corridors on each side, but the raven-haired woman led him straight. Two more women guarded another entrance very similar to the first, and they made that same gesture with their left hands before pulling the animal pelt aside. Once again, he followed his captor inside, but this time they emerged into a massive dome. The dome seemed to have been constructed the same way as the corridor, but the hides were painted with the likeness of trees, so that the whole dome resembled the clearing in which the palace itself was built. The effect was enhanced by the light. Large bowls stood at various points around the room, and they were filled with a shimmering substance which filled the room with green-tinted, liquid light. The light was constantly in motion, and it almost made the trees appear as if they were moving. However, the bowls did not allow the light to reach the bottom of the room, so the floor was shrouded in darkness. As Kyn stepped into the room, it felt almost like he was walking on the shadows themselves.

Then, Kyn noticed the throne set at the opposite side of the dome. It was a grand throne, and the whole thing was draped in furs. Upon it sat a woman. As Kyn laid eyes on her his breath caught in his throat and his heart felt like it stopped. It wasn’t just that she was beautiful, it was her presence. She was sat rather sedately, but her limbs were tense and he was reminded of a snake, coiled but ready to strike. A sword leaned against the throne, and her hand was resting so lightly on the hilt that it could easily be mistaken as entirely decorative. Kyn, however, suspected that she knew how to use it. The woman’s back was straight, and her head held high. She had a commanding presence, and yet her deep green eyes looked gentle. Her features were, perhaps, even more exotic than the rest of her people. Her skin was pale, and her long hair was a deep, lustrous red. Most of the women here had varying shades of brown hair, with a few scattered blondes and, very rarely, black, like his captor. Upon that gorgeous red hair sat a thin circlet, made of vines and delicate silver chains entwined together.

The woman seated upon the throne wore clothes almost identical to those of the warriors, except her arms were completely bare, and the short skirt looked to be made of heavy furs instead of leather.

For the first time in Kyn’s presence, one of the people spoke. The raven-haired woman addressed the one on the throne, “Queen Ayenna, savages came to The Forest. Xania brings savage leader.” She spoke Kyn’s language, though she had a strange, musical accent.

“The Forest thanks sister Xania.” The Queen replied in a formal tone. Her voice was full, vibrant, and it had that same accent.

They were speaking strangely. Kyn concluded that the raven-haired woman must be the one called Xania, and that these people used their own names when referring to themselves, except for the Queen, who seemed to speak on behalf of the forest. Kyn continued to listen closely and to assess them.

“Savage,” Xania pointed an accusing finger at Kyn. “Savage killed Tarya.”

A sudden gasp arose from the warriors who lined the sides of the dome, and who Kyn had failed to notice until now. There were perhaps thirty of them, and they were all staring at him in horror. Personally, Kyn felt that Xania was leaving out many important details, and for a moment he considered arguing his case.

Xania continued, “Savage wounded. It not sleep. Savage fights like Rlramwa. Defeat three other warriors also.”

Queen Ayenna half rose from her throne, and her tone seemed fearful, “Three other warriors sleep eternal?”

The warrior shook her head, “Three other warriors awake now.”

Ayenna sighed with relief and settled back down. “The outsider showed mercy?”

“It showed mercy,” she agreed reluctantly.

Kyn thought that perhaps this conversation was taking a turn for the better, and the Queen’s next words seemed to confirm that, “The Forest shall return mercy.”

The other woman, however, seemed outraged. “Xania demands blood. Xania demands revenge!”

Queen Ayenna’s tone turned icy. “The Forest has spoken. Will Xania obey?”

Kyn calmly watched as Xania clenched and unclenched her fists, struggling with her anger and her grief. He did feel a little regret for having killed the one called Tarya, but it was not he who had attacked unoffending travelers.

“Xania will obey.” She turned and, after directing a hatred-filled look in his direction, stormed out.

The Queen then turned her gaze on Kyn. She regarded him speculatively while he stood uncomfortably shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He was an ambassador, so he had often addressed royalty before, but she was very different, and that, combined with his captivity, made him rather nervous.

She gracefully rose from her throne and approached him. Even though she was slightly smaller than many of her kin, she still stood about half a foot taller than Kyn. He also noticed that she appeared to be a couple of years younger than him, though there was something about her that made him feel vastly inferior, and her eyes seemed to possess a deep intelligence. She laid a gentle, comforting hand on his shoulder as she spoke to the other two women who had escorted him, instructing them to bring certain items to her. She then beckoned to him and he followed her to another one of those animal pelt doorways behind the throne. He was convinced that even if he had not wished to follow her his legs would have done so anyway.

The room to which she led him was not the only one attached to the throne room but it was situated directly behind the throne, which led him to believe that it was her private quarters. It was a fairly small room, and almost completely bare. Aside from the strange green light sources situated in each corner, the only things in the room were the furs. They covered the floor and hung from the walls, and there was a heap of them in the centre of the room which he supposed served as a bed. It was a cosy little room, but somehow he had expected something more extravagant. She was a Queen, after all. He felt a growing respect for her, which he thought strange since technically he was her prisoner.

She turned and faced him, placed her left hand on her chest and said, “Ayenna.” She then placed that same hand on his chest, being careful to avoid touching a wound that had been inflicted upon him during the fight with Xania. He realized that this was the first time she had spoken directly to him. Perhaps it was customary to first introduce yourself to a stranger before addressing them. Each land had its own strange customs, he well knew.

“Kyn Rokan. Ambassador Kyn Rokan.”

The Queen frowned thoughtfully and tapped his chest again. “Name is Ambassada?”

Though their language seemed to be a primitive version of his own, it functioned perfectly for them. Only when it came to communicating with him did she have problems. The language was mostly the same, but how they both used it was very different. He shook his head and attempted to explain. “Ambassador is my title, my occupation. Like warrior, or Queen, but not a warrior or a Queen.”

She nodded. “Outsider uses strange words, but Ayenna thinks Ayenna understands.” She tapped his chest yet again. “Outsider’s name?”

“Kyn Rokan.” Kyn noticed that she still appeared to be confused about something.

“Kyn Rokan is two names. Outsider is two people?”

“No. In my land it is the custom for people to have two names. The first is my name, and the second is my family’s name. All in my family are named Rokan.”

Understand finally dawned on her. “Name is Kyn.” He nodded at her, and she continued, “In Ayenna’s land, names end with ‘ah’. Ayenna can say Kyna?”

In spite of himself, Kyn laughed. “I don’t see why not.”

“Yes?” She asked eagerly, unsure if he had been granting permission or not.


Queen Ayenna smiled warmly at him, and then she asked, “Will Kyna resist if Ayenna frees Kyna’s hands?”

Kyn snorted. “Not bloody likely.” He was well aware that there was no possible way he could escape.

“No?” She asked, eyeing him warily.

“No. Kyna promises that Kyna will not resist.”

Her eyes narrow almost imperceptibly. “Does Kyna mock Ayenna?”

His reply was entirely sincere. “Not at all.” He suddenly feared that he had offended her, but then she smiled, and his breath caught in his throat again. She drew a dagger from a sheath at her waist and carefully cut through the ropes that bound his hands. He stood, rubbing his wrists. “Thank you,” He said simply.

Just then one of the women who had escorted him appeared in the doorway. She placed her load just inside the room and left.

“Kyna should remove Kyna’s clothes.”

Kyn choked at that. “What?”

“Kyna should remove Kyna’s clothes,” She repeated. “Kyna is wounded. Ayenna feels responsible, for it was Ayenna’s sister that harmed Kyna. Ayenna wishes to treat Kyna’s wounds.”

Kyn suddenly understood. “No, that’s not necessary. I’m fine.” In truth, he was not fine. Some of his wounds were fairly deep, and it seemed that each time he moved at least one of them began to bleed again. Pain he could endure, though.

The Queen rolled her eyes. “Kyna should not worry. Ayenna finds Kyna very attractive.”

He choked at that too, blushing furiously, and the room was suddenly filled with her rich, feminine laughter. When she spoke again, however, there was a hint of steel in her voice. “Kyna will remove Kyna’s clothes.” It was no longer a suggestion, but a command.

Reluctantly, Kyn began to undress. When she gave another of those heart-stopping smiles his reluctance completely disappeared, and he soon stood before her, completely naked.

“Mmm.” Her expression appeared to be almost hungry as she looked him up and down, her gaze lingering on his crotch. “Ayenna is impressed.” Then she seemed to compose herself. “But Kyna is hurt.” She said it as if reminding herself, and went to retrieve the items left near the door.

Ayenna laid the items out near the heap of furs. “Come, Kyna. Sit.” He sat on the furs and she knelt beside him. She picked up a cloth, dipped it in a bowl of water, then carefully began to clean his wounds. “Ayenna has a question. Will Kyna answer?”

He winced slightly when she touched a tender spot. “If I can.”

“Why did Kyna not sleep when cut?”

He stared at her, confused. “I don’t understand. None of these wounds are life-threatening.”

“Ayenna knows this. Ayenna’s sisters do not kill outsiders. But Ayenna’s sis-”

“Wait.” He cut her off. “Your sisters killed my men.” He said it accusingly, though he knew that it had been his own fault, and that ultimately it was he who was responsible.

The Queen shook her head adamantly, still cleaning his wounds. “Ayenna’s sisters do not kill outsiders. Ayenna’s sisters take venom from animal, put venom on weapons. One cut makes mind sleep.”

“So they’re alive?”

“Kyna’s men are awake. Kyna’s men are safe. But Ayenna’s sisters will not let Kyna’s men leave.” Relief flooded through him. He still felt guilt for leading them into this situation, but at least they were alive. He was about to ask exactly what would happen to them, but she spoke again. “Kyna did not answer Ayenna’s question. Why did Kyna not sleep?”

“I don’t know.” She had finished cleaning his wounds, and she was now crushing berries in a second bowl. Suddenly, the answer to her question came to him. “Wait, venom, you say? These are dangerous times in the kingdoms beyound your borders, especially for an Ambassador. My kingdom’s ambassadors are also spies, and occasionally assassins. We receive a lot of training, and early in our careers they have us imbibe all kinds of potions and conconctions. They’re supposed to grant immunity to many illnesses and poisons.” He suddenly realized how dishonourable his profession sounded, and he was ashamed. “I have always endeavoured to be honest in my work…”

The Queen had been listening closely, and she laid a hand on his arm. “Do not worry. Ayenna does not think badly of Kyna.” The berries had been crushed into a paste by now, and she dipped her fingers into the bowl. She used her bare hands to apply the paste to his wounds. Her gentle touch was almost a caress.

It struck him again how odd it was for a Queen to be doing this, and his respect for her rose even higher. Tasks like treating a wounded man should be beneath her. “Where is Kyna’s woman?” She suddenly asked him, her eyes alight with curiosity.

He wasn’t entirely entirely certain of her meaning, and he answered hesitantly. “I, uhh… I don’t have a woman.”

She frowned slightly, clearly not comprehending. “Kyna serves what?”

Instantly, he replied, “I serve my King, he…”

“He?” She demanded, suddenly aghast. “Kyna fucks men?”

Kyn blinked at her. He wasn’t familiar with the word she had used. “Fucks?” He watched her raise her hands and perform an obscene gesture which left no doubt as to what she meant, then she continued to apply the paste to his wounds, though now she moved stiffly, and she wasn’t nearly as gentle. He felt himself blushing again. “No! I don’t… ‘fuck’ men. Or women, for that matter. My King is leader of my land, and I do what he tells me, but we don’t…” He struggled with the word again. “We don’t fuck.”

She looked relieved. “Kyna come from strange land. In Ayenna’s land, men submit to Ayenna’s sisters.” Then with a sly smile she asked, “Kyna is unmated? Kyna is virgin?”

His face heated even further, and his mouth suddenly felt dry. The Queen was so direct. So blunt. “Yes…” Despite his age, he had never made love to a woman. Unlike many men, he wasn’t satisfied with visiting a brothel. He had long since decided that he would only lie with a woman he loved.

“Ayenna will be Kyna’s woman.” She declared.

There were a few ways he could interpret that, and he wasn’t sure which she had intended. He suddenly felt a powerful need to change the subject. He gestured at the bowl of paste which she was still applying and asked, “What is that?”

“Ayenna’s sisters named it bloodberry for its colour and its effects. Bloodberry eases pain and encourages healing.”

Kyn was a little dubious about the effects of the berries, but her every touch sent shivers up his spine.

“It also edible.” She added, and brought her fingers to his lips. Before he knew what he was doing, he was gently sucking her fingers clean, one after the other. The taste was pleasant, sweet even. She giggled girlishly. And then, quite suddenly, she kissed him.

Kyn was taken by surprise. Her lips were soft, and her kiss was slow and gentle. It took him a few moments to gather his wits, but when he did he found that he was kissing her back. All too soon she pulled away. He looked at her, his disappointment clearly writ upon his face, and she gazed back with that same hunger as before.

“Ayenna wants to fuck Kyna,” She said with characteristic bluntness. Kyn could not help but admire her honesty and directness, but it still embarrassed him immensely, and that word she used seemed so crude. He had to admit though, it felt good to hear her say it. “Ayenna is tempted by lust. Ayenna’s sisters satisfy Ayenna’s lust until Ayenna chooses mate. Queen has only one mate. Ayenna takes time to choose mate carefully.”

Kyn nodded. “I understand.” That was not entirely true though. He understood most of what she had said, but not why she had said it. And the part about satisfying her lust definitely eluded him.

She idly ran her fingers over his chest as she spoke. “Ayenna and Kyna will speak again, but now Lina will show Kyna to room. Kyna will eat. Kyna will sleep. Then will Ayenna and Kyna speak again.” Then she called for Lina, who arrived so quickly that she could only have been standing right outside. The woman looked at him, then placed her left hand against her chest and introduced herself. Kyn followed suit, and she nodded and said, “Come.”

Kyn reached for his clothes, but Ayenna stopped him gently. “Kyn will not wear clothes. Men do not wear clothes here.”

He shuddered at the thought of walking back through the dome without his clothes, but he had no choice. He knew that arguing would bring nothing but trouble. He stood and bowed somewhat stiffly, which seemed to amuse her, and then he turned and followed the woman named Lina from the room. He resolutely stared at her back as they crossed the dome, purposely ignoring the stares directed at him. When they entered one of the adjoining corridors he realized that he had been holding his breath, and he let it out explosively.

Lina led him to a room almost identical to the Queen’s own chamber. They had no need of furniture, it seemed. Kyn stepped inside and collapsed onto the furs, suddenly realizing how exhausted he was. A few minutes later Lina returned with a crude wooden tray heaped with food, which she set down just inside the room. She left again, but Kyn was almost certain that she was standing right outside. Hunger won out over exhaustion and he went to retrieve the food. There were various fruits and a large portion of dark meat. He had yet to see these people use any kind of fire, but the meat had been cooked. He attacked the meal voraciously, pausing every so often to drink from a wooden cup filled with cool water which seemed to have been flavoured with something. All in all it was a satisfying meal and he soon fell asleep, content with the knowledge that, though they were prisoners, he and his men were all safe. For the moment, anyway.

His dreams were of her, and only her. Her beauty. The grace with which she moved. Her smile. Her smell. Her accent, and the blunt, honest way she spoke. Her laugh. The touch of her fingers and, even more importantly, her lips. All of it made his heart ache. She did not just hold his body captive, but his heart too.

Despite the dreams, Kyn awoke feeling well rested. He noticed that another tray of food had been placed inside the room while he slept, and he ate gratefully. When he stepped into the corridor he found himself face to face with a dark-haired woman who he had not yet met. Like all of these women she was taller than him, but her face looked young. About nineteen, he guessed. She looked him up and down. Her gaze lingered on his crotch and, perhaps unconsciously, she licked her lips. She then looked him in the face and proceeded with the customary introduction. “Rana.”

He responded. “Kyna.” He had not actually intended to use the name which Ayenna had given him, but it seemed to have come naturally to his tongue. He found that he was fond of the name.

“What time is it?” He asked, but she just stared at him blankly. “Um… Where is the sun in the sky?”

She seemed to understand that. “It is dawn. The sun is just rising. Queen Ayenna wishes to see Kyna. Come.” His heart lurched nervously at that, but he hastened to follow. Their kiss was playing over and over in his mind, and it was almost as though he could feel the ghost of her lips on his own. He mentally shook himself. What had come over him?

Rana led him directly to the throne room, and when they entered the dome he saw that the Queen sat once more upon her throne. Her face broke into a smile of genuine delight when she saw him. She seemed utterly incapable of hiding her emotions, and Kyn admired her all the more for that, too.

She rose from her throne and approached him, seeming to walk on the shadows themselves. She was dressed almost the same as she had been the day before, only this time the short skirt was one of deep red fur which matched her hair colour rather nicely. Kyn spent a moment trying to recall an animal with fur such as that, but then the Queen was in front of him, smiling warmly, and he forgot all else. “Would Kyna like to join Ayenna for a walk?”

In his mind he spoke the words “It would be my pleasure.” The words of the Ambassador Kyn Rokan sounded rather insincere. However, the words the came from his lips were, “Kyna would like that very much.” It seemed somehow far more appropriate, and he felt that it also expressed his feelings more accurately.

“Kyna is kind to speak as Ayenna speaks.” She slipped her hand into his and gently led him from the room. They walked side by side down the main corridor and emerged into the dim light of the clearing. It felt a little strange to be walking hand in hand with her. Strange, but decidedly pleasant. They left the ‘palace’ behind and began to wander at random. “Ayenna thought that Kyna might have questions.”

He did, and many of them, but he had no idea of where to begin.

“Kyna must be confused.”

Kyn snorted. “You can say that again.”

Her brow creased slightly as she frowned. “Ayenna does not understand Kyna’s words.”

“I meant yes,” he explained.

I means the same as Kyna, yes?”

“Kind of.” He formed his words carefully to try to make her understsand. “But if Ayenna said I then I would mean Ayenna.”

“Ah, I understand now.” She put emphasis on the I. “Kyna speaks strangely.”

He chuckled. “I suppose I do.” They continued on in silence for a while, then finally he spoke again. “Why are there so few men here?”

“There are almost forty men here,” she told him.

“But there are hundreds of women…”

She blinked at him. “This seem strange to Kyna?”

“Yes. In my land there are more men than women.”

“Ah,” she said, “Many things make sense to Ayenna now.” She didn’t elaborate, but instead went on to explain how their society worked. “Almost all children are female. Men are slaves. Men minds are weak. Men do what Ayenna’s sisters tell Men to do.”

Kyn took offence at that. “So you think my mind is weak?”

She looked at him in an apologetic sort of way. “Ayenna did not mean that. Kyna is different from men of Forest. Kyna has stronger mind, almost as strong as Ayenna’s. Ayenna finds Kyn more attractive too, and Kyn has bigger cock.” That was another word which he had never heard, but the look she directed at his crotch left little doubt in his mind about what she meant. His face heated, but she was looking ahead again and appeared to be lost in thought.

More and more women were emerging from their tents to go about their business, and many of them were staring at him. Kyn was relieved when he and Ayenna finally reached the edge of the clearing and stepped among the trees. They continued to walk deeper into the forest, still holding hands, and eventually Ayenna spoke again. “Does Kyna like the forest?”

“Yes,” he answered truthfully. He had fallen in love with the land itself on the very first day, when they first descended into Kenma. “My land holds no such natural beauty. We kill the animals, and we chop down the trees. We build ugly cities of stone, and then amuse ourselves by trying to destroy what other men create.” The week he had spent in the forest thus far had greatly changed his opinions on civilization, he suddenly realized. He had never really had a problem with it while he was there. But now he actually envied these people their simple lives.

“Ayenna is glad,” she said simply, and they walked in silence for a while longer. “Does Kynna find Ayenna attractive?”

He stopped and looked at her seriously. She gazed back, her heart in her gorgeous green eyes. “Of all the beauty in this forest, Ayenna’s is by far the greatest.”

Ayenna flashed him a smile of pure joy, and then she stepped close and kissed him again. It started out slow and gentle, but that didn’t last for long. Soon she was pressing her entire body against his own and kissing him with a passion to which he responded in kind. He looped his arms around her waist. She had one hand on the back of his neck, and the other laid on his bare, muscled chest. Slowly, unconsciously, his hands moved towards her butt. First they ran down, feeling those two perfect mounds through the furs, and then he slipped them under her skirt and gently squeezed the Queen’s soft flesh. She moaned quietly against his lips and kissed him even more fiercely, periodically pausing for short intervals to speak breathlessly, “Ayenna is… Very wet… Kyna… Makes Ayenna… So horny!”

Kyna could feel his own arousal growing with each passing moment, literally. His lips moved along her jaw, and he began to kiss her neck, just below her ear. “I want to fuck you,” He whispered. Filled with lust as he was, the words came naturally from his lips.

She moaned again, as if the mere thought of it caused her pleasure. “Mmm, Ayenna wants to be fucked by Kyna, but… Can’t…” The last word came out quietly, reluctantly. She gently pushed him away. “Ayenna and Kyna should return now.” When she saw his erect member, she quickly turned away. Kyn could not know that it was taking all of her self control to resist giving into temptation. He was disappointed, frustrated even, but she took her people’s traditions seriously, and he admired her for that too. He would not want to be responsible for her breaking those traditions. He realized that she was already heading back to the clearing, and he quickly followed. He did not particularly like the idea of remaining in the forest all alone, naked and unarmed.

“Is it just the Queen who cannot… You know… Be with men?” As his lust slowly drained away, his usual awkwardness with all things sex-related began to return.

“Why?” She suddenly sounded angry, for some reason. “Does Kyna want to fuck Ayenna’s sisters?”

“No!” He said quickly. “I was just curious…”

“Oh. Ayenna is sorry. Ayenna was jealous.” Her tone had softened again. She answered his question, “No. Warriors are also forbidden to mate. Warriors understand this when Warriors choose to become Warriors. Warriors take their pleasure from other women, like Ayenna must do until she chooses a mate.”

“Ah,” he said simply. Kyn thought he was beginning to understand. He had heard about lesbians in his own land, but they were uncommon, and it was generally frowned upon. Though, judging by the way even the warriors stared at him, they were not actually lesbians, but bisexual. Intercourse with males was just forbidden.

They had returned to the clearing and were now walking past the animal pens and tents once again. “Not-Warriors are free to mate with slaves.” She continued. “Except one slave in each village. One slave in each village is kept until Queen chooses a mate. Queen’s mate must be virgin.”

“You have other villages?” He was a little surprised by that, though when he thought about it he realized that it had been silly to assume that this was the only village in the forest.

“Yes. Nine in total. This is biggest one.”

“And when will you choose your mate?” He blurted the question. He found he was also jealous, both of the women she had been taking pleasure from, and of the men from which she would select her mate.

“Ayenna is ready. Ayenna will tell Ayenna’s sisters to prepare for the ceremony. But first, Ayenna wants pleasure. Kyna made Ayenna horny, and after Ayenna announces she is ready Ayenna will have no pleasure for seven days, when Ayenna will choose a mate.”

“So the ceremony will be in seven days?” The thought of Ayenna choosing a mate made him feel physically ill.

“Yes. Ayenna will see little of Kyna before the ceremony. Ayenna is sorry.” He nodded stiffly. They were approaching the palace now. Ayenna paused at the entrance to speak to one of the guards, who Kyn recognized as the young Rana. “Rana will give Queen Ayenna pleasure. Come.” The young woman nodded, eagerly it seemed, and then followed Ayenna inside.

Kyn turned and kicked at an unoffending rock with his bare foot. It didn’t help much, but the pain gave him something else to think about as he wandered aimlessly through the village. As the day wore on, he invented ever more ridiculous plans to escape. He suspected that someone would stop him if he tried to just walk out of the village. Even if he did escape to the forest, he had no clothes, no weapons, and no horse. Even were he mounted, it would take around five days to reach either border. As night descended he gave up on an impossible plan to disguise himself as a warrior woman and headed to his small room in the palace, where he found food waiting for him. He ate, then wrapped himself in the furs and went to sleep.

Kyn felt better when he awoke the next morning. Breakfast was more or less the same as the previous day, except the water seemed to have been flavoured with something different, and the meat seemed to have come from a different animal. It wasn’t a whole lot of variety, but it was better than eating the same meal over and over.

His mood was soured somewhat when he emerged from his room to find Rana waiting for him. He felt another surge of jealousy, more powerful than before since this time he had a pretty, young face to direct it at.

“Queen Ayenna has instructed Rana to guide Kyna, and to answer any questions Kyna might have.”

“That isn’t necessary,” he growled.

He tried to step around her, but she barred his way. “Rana will accompany Kyna wherever Kyna goes.” She used that same commanding tone that her Queen occasionally used. The one that instantly told him that arguing would be a waste of time.


“Where would Kyna like to go?”


“Kyna would prefer to stay here?”


“Kyna is being childish,” she said reproachfully.

“So?” He knew she was right, but he didn’t care.

“Would Kyna like to spar?”

He was just opening his mouth to say “No” again when he changed his mind. “That’s a marvelous idea,” he said enthusiastically. Maybe giving her a thrashing on the practice field would make him feel better.

The corner of her mouth curled upwards, and she turned and led the way down the corridor.

They exited through a side entrance and, after a minute or two of walking, arrived at a fair-sized training ground. There was a structure that looked something like a barracks on one side, and the field itself was divided by simple wooden fences. There were just as many children here as there were grown women, some practicing archery, and others pairing off against each other. The youngest of them were hitting each other with sticks, but most of them used real weapons with startling proficiency.

“What is Kyna’s weapon of choice?” She asked him.

“A sword.” There was a certain amount of hostility in his voice. She looked amused by his answer, but said nothing. She wandered off, then returned a few moments later with a sword, which she handed to him. He hefted it, then swung it experimentally a couple of times. It had a nice weight to it, and it was well balanced.

Rana selected an empty practice ring and leapt over the fence. He joined her, and they stood a few paces apart, facing each other. She gripped a spear in both of her hands. Kyn judged the weapon to be about the same height as Rana herself. It may have a good range, he thought, but it looks like a pretty clumsy weapon. He soon found out how wrong he was.

His first charge was disastrous. He had assumed that, because of her age, she would be an easy opponent. He had been wrong about that too. She kept him at a distance, jabbing the spear at him and forcing him to defend himself. He found it difficult to guard against her attacks with only a sword, and when he side-stepped a thrust she would quickly deliver a blow with the shaft of the weapon. No matter what he tried, he could not get close enough to counter-attack. He even hacked at the spear in an attempt to shatter it, but the wood was resilient and flexible.

He was growing increasingly frustrated. His sword was near useless against her skill with a spear so, the next time she thrust at him, rather than dodging to one side as she had expected, he caught the shaft of the spear in his hand and pulled it from her grip. He was more startled by his sudden victory then she had been by the loss of her weapon though, and she quickly closed the distance between them and delivered a solid kick to his torso before he could react. He doubled over, relaxing his grip on both the sword and the spear as he tried to recover the breath which had been knocked from him.

A small group of spectators had gathered. When he finally caught his breath he approached a young girl who was leaning on the fence to watch the fight and asked if he could borrow her spear. She nodded and handed it over to him. It was a little shorter than Rana’s, but he figured it might even the odds a little.

The fight resumed. He wielded the spear clumsily at first, but he felt he was getting the hang of it pretty quickly. Soon they were feinting, parrying and trading blows even more ferociously than before, and the crowd of spectators grew steadily larger.

They fought for the most of the morning. Every time he thought he had gained a victory over her, she immediately knocked him off his feet or disarmed him. He began to suspect that she was holding back most of the time. Finally, when she held the point of her spear to his throat, he yielded. After thanking the young girl and returning her spear, he set off towards the central structure which, in his head, he referred to as the palace.

Rana caught up with him. “Is Kyn still mad at Rana?”

He thought about that for a moment. “No,” he admitted. The fight seemed to have cleared his mind, which might have been why she had suggested sparring in the first place, he realized. “I apologize for my earlier behaviour.”

She smiled at him. “Rana accepts Kyna’s apology.”

“Are there are any baths here?” His muscles ached, and he was covered in sweat and dust.

She laughed. “Does Rana smell like Rana never bathes?” She looked down at herself, then laughed some more. She was as sweaty and dusty as he was. “Forget Rana said that. Come. There is a lake nearby. The sun warms the water there, so it is good place for bathing.”

She led Kyn back into the forest a ways, and they came to the shore of a large lake. The huge trees still cluttered the shore, but the sun was in a position where it reached the water there, for the sky above the lake was open. There were other women already bathing there, and they all stared curiously at Kyn as he waded out into the warm water. He was slowly growing accustomed to the constant ogling, but he was still greatly embarassed by their nudity, and he avoided looking directly at any of them. He heard splashing behind him, and he knew that Rana was following. He ducked beneath the water as soon as it was deep enough, then swam out until he was a fair distance away from the others and felt he had some small amount of privacy. All of a sudden, Rana’s head popped out of the water nearby, and that privacy was shattered. He glared at her.

“Rana was told to watch over Kyna,” she explained calmly.

“I know but… Can’t you watch over me from there?” He gestured at the area where the other women were bathing.

“Why? Are Kyna and Rana not friends?”

“I wouldn’t quite go that far…”

“Is Rana’s company unpleasant?”

“No, I guess not. It’s just that… You’re naked.”

“Kyna is very observant,” she said sarcastically.

He struggled to explain it to her. “Where I come from, men and women aren’t naked together…”

She laughed. “How silly!” Then she proceeded to wash her hair more thoroughly.

When they were both finished bathing, they returned to the shore. As they passed the other women again, Kyn couldn’t help but notice that some were now doing more than just bathing. He felt his face heating. He waited on the shore while Rana carefully washed her clothes, staring at the trees the whole time. He was relieved when she finally finished and they headed back into the village.

They ate lunch together, then passed the afternoon touring the forge and tannery, which were both set apart from the main village so as to not disrupt day to day life. Obviously, they were both run by women. Rana told him that the men were only given simple jobs when they weren’t being used for breeding. All in all, Kyn found the afternoon quite interesting, and by the end of the day he felt he had actually become friends with Rana.

For the next six days, Kyn spent most of his time with Rana. The whole village was abuzz with the news that Queen Ayenna was ready to choose a mate. He frequently heard women talking about the candidates, comparing the sizes of various parts of their anatomy, or talking excitedly about how they would get the chance to mate with the ones which Ayenna didn’t pick. It seemed that after the Queen had selected her mate, the rest of the candidates were given to the women who had yet to bear a child, and a mass orgy took place. The whole thing made Kyn quite sick, not because he disapproved, but because he could not bear the thought of Ayenna having a mate.

The bouts kept his mind occupied though. Each day he and Rana would face each other on the practice field. She began to teach him the finer points of wielding a spear, and he found that he actually preferred it over a sword. His skill advanced rapidly, and the spear became his new weapon of choice. Their practice bouts often drew huge crowds, and he was frequently compared to a Rlramwa, though he still had not found out exactly what one of those was. It seemed to be a compliment of some kind though.

Once, even Ayenna came to watch them fight. It was the first time he had seen her, and it was a painful reminder of why his heart ached for her.

After their bouts, Rana had asked, “Kyna loves Queen Ayenna very much, yes?”

He had scoffed at that, but it had given him a lot to think about. He had only spent a short time with her, and though he was extremely attracted to her, his feelings for her went quite a bit beyond lust. Perhaps it was just an obsession born from the fact that he could never be with her, but she was never far from his mind. Everything from her blunt honesty to her stunning beauty. Her accent and her laugh. Her smile… Oh, her smile…

And so it was that on the morning of the seventh day he refused to get out of bed. He could just sleep until it had all passed, and he could finally get over his ridiculous infatuation he had for a Queen, of all people. Granted, not a Queen of any ‘civilized’ country. No, a Queen far more dignified and civilized than any of them would ever be, he thought bitterly, and she was not beneath ordinary tasks. She was very much one of her people.

It was already long past midday when Rana barged in, tore the furs back, and splashed freezing cold water on him. “Go away,” he grumbled.

“Does Kyna know what day it is?”

“Yes, which is precisely why I’m staying in bed.”

“Kyna is not staying in bed. Kyna will present himself to the Queen.”

“And why would I do that?” He rolled over and covered himself with the furs again.

“Because Kyna is a possible mate. Rana thought Kyna was more intelligent than slave-men. Get up.”

He untangled himself from the furs and climbed to his feet. “Okay, okay. I’m up. I don’t see what good it’s going to do though.”

“Does Kyna wish Rana to help him shave?”

He blinked at her. “Shave?”

“Yes, shave.” She pointed at his beard, which he had not shaved in at least ten days. “Kyna cannot present himself to the Queen like that.” She held up a bowl of water, presumably the water she had splashed him with, and another bowl containing some kind of pale paste.

“No, I’m quite capable of shaving myself, thank you.”

He rubbed some of the paste into his beard, and she then offered him her dagger. He found it was rather more difficult than using a razor for some reason. Perhaps due to the larger size and weight. After he nicked himself a couple of times, Rana took the dagger from him.

“Kyna will slice Kyna’s face off like that,” she said, and proceeded to shave him. Then, when his face was completely smooth, she took some of the paste and began to rub it around his crotch. He leapt away from her hand, and she rolled her eyes. “Kyna is being silly. Kyna must be shaved there too. It would be a shame if something were accidentally removed, so Rana will do it. Come here.” He sighed rather loudly but did as instructed, and she carefully shaved him there too.

Rana cleaned her dagger and had Kyna wash off the remaining paste before they left the room. Kyn found that he felt even more naked now. He grumbled some more on the way out, and even more as Rana led him down the corridor. They did not go directly to the throne room, but instead circled around until they were in the main corridor. They were not the only ones there, however. Nine tall males formed a line, each accompanied by a warrior. Kyna fell in behind them with Rana at his side.

The full implications of what was happening were just beginning to dawn on him. Would Ayenna choose him? He had not considered that possibility until now. Did he want Ayenna to choose him?


Almost as if they had been waiting for him, the ceremony began. It was a simple enough ceremony. No blazing trumpets. No festive decorations. No long, boring speeches. The tall slave at the front of the line was simply led into the throne room by the warrior who accompanied him, he faced the throne, introduced himself, then stepped off to one side. Some of the other slaves said a few words after introducing themselves, but Kyn wasn’t paying attention. It was almost his turn to present himself before the Queen. His heart was hammering against his chest, his mouth was suddenly dry, and he felt more than a little dizzy.

“Know that Rana thinks of Kyna as a sister, not a slave.” The woman at his side whispered to him.

He couldn’t quite get his voice to work, so he nodded at her in reply. He understood, at least partially, the meaning behind her words, and he was touched.

Suddenly her hand was pressing against his back, “Come. It is time.”

He took a deep breath and stepped beyond the fur door into the throne room. There were fully twice as many warriors lining the room than was usual, and on top of that, he estimated that there were approximately eighty of the women who had not yet bore a child, yet they all fit easily into the gigantic dome. As always when he entered the room, he was mesmerized for a moment by that strange, dancing green light…

…Then he laid eyes upon the Queen, and all else fled his mind. She was seated regally upon the throne, her circlet atop her deep red hair. She was dressed in white leather and white furs, and Kyn found the similarity to a bride’s wedding gown oddly appropriate.

She was smiling at him.

He approached the throne and dropped to one knee. Placing his hand on his chest he said simply, “Kyna will gladly serve Queen Ayenna.” It was far from being the most eloquent speech, but it was honest.

She gazed at him, and even while she looked directly into his eyes she announced, “Kyna will be Queen Ayenna’s mate. These slaves,” she gestured at the other nine men, “Queen Ayenna gifts to Queen Ayenna’s sisters.”

Author’s Note: My spiritual mother, Colonel Marina Raskova, founder of 588th Night Bomber Regiment — what the Germans in WW2 called “Das Nachthexen,” the “Night Witches” — once asked me, “what is the purpose of prose if not poetry?” She delighted in French Avant-garde theater, Dada art, surrealistic poetry, and so do I. If stream of consciousness bores you, dear reader, you might want to read elsewhere. It is true that erotic war literature can be problematic, I understand, especially for people who live comfortably enough where they will never have to face such moral dilemmas. My mother never had that luxury in 1941 as the Nazis were invading the Soviet Union: Operation Barbarossa. This story is dedicated to all of us who learned how to survive.

* * *

“I want you to pose naked for me.”

“What, Sargent Rudenov?”

“Comrade Aleksandra, did you not just knock on my door and enter?”

The younger pilot blinked in the well lit room that served as Sargent Yevgeniya Rudenov’s, flight squadron leader for the 588th Night Bomber Regiment, personal quarters.

“Yes, Sargent Rudenov.”

“Comrade Aleksandra, did you not just ask me if you would be flying in tonight’s sortie?”

“Yes, Sargent Rudenov.”

“And when I said no, did you not say ‘what can I do to fly tonight’?”

“I’m sorry, Sargent Comrade. Did you just say–”

“Yes. That I want you to pose naked for me.”

Aleksandra looked at the decorated Hero of the Soviet Union, Order of the Red Banner and Order of the Red Star sitting before her, trying to make some sense of the offer.

War had stripped Rudenov of her girlish charms, leaving her with a curious, rugged sensuality that everyone – women and men – in the regiment noticed. They say in Russia that there are only two types of females: girls and elderly babushkas. Where does one find the link between caterpillar and butterfly? Who has ever witnessed such a transformation in a world that holds motherhood so cheap? “In what mysterious pupa,” one traveler asked, “do Russian women prepare for the next stage of their lives?” The answer is easy: war. War burns away all the virginal blushing embarrassments, the banal madonna-whore complex, the artificial accouterments of a bourgeois society, leaving behind only queer middle-age women who know how to survive.

“Comrade Aleksandra, you have been in camp over a month. We have lost twenty-four pilots and navigators during that time. Girls just like you who came into this very room saying they would do anything to get the chance to drop bombs on the Germans. And now here you are, their sister, obviously, standing before me saying you’ll do anything to get the chance to fly in a Polikarpov,” Yevgeniya smiled at the obvious confusion and discomfort this was creating in the younger girl. “You tell me that you would do anything?”

“Yes, Sargent Rudenov.”

“Well then, you can convince me about that by posing naked for me, right now, yes? So you choose, the night is young, the plane do not leave for another three hours. Come day break, where would you like to be?”

Yevgeniya stood up from her desk, walked over to a small cabinet and removed a large, chrome camera. Aleksandra looked nervously at the older woman, she reminded her of a nun she once had at school. She could feel her heart beating loudly in her chest. It was a cold night. Somewhere outside a crow, the messenger from the other world, cawed in the dark.

“I’m sorry dear, I hate to rush you. Perhaps you’d like to think about this back in your barracks?” She started to door as if ushering the younger woman out.

“No! Please, Sargent Rudenov.”

Yevgeniya looked at Aleksandra as if surprised she had spoken.

“Are you sure I can’t just–” But here the younger girl was at a loss as to what she could offer. It was either posing for photos or being grounded for who knew how long. “Who would see these photos if I agreed?” The girl stammered, looking at the ground, blushing violently. “I’ve never been naked before … anyone one else.”

Closing the wooden door to her quarters and pulling the latch, Yevgeniya looked the young pilot up and down. She smiled at the girl’s nervous plight. “How did you ever make it through eighteen years of life and never once have the urge to let other people see you for what you are?”

“Sargent Rudenov?” Aleksandra asked, drawing a deep breath.

“My dear girl. I have a dozen other pilots also wanting to fly tonight with far fewer hang-ups than you seem to possess. The pictures will be shown to very few, but please understand I will demand that you are to be naked. You will be posing in extremely … titillating ways for me.”

“But you’re a woman!” Aleksandra blurted, then bit her lip before she said anything else moronic. Yevgeniya’s omnivorous appetites weren’t exactly state secrets.

“Yes, Comrade Aleksandra, I am.”

Yevgeniya smiled as she returned to her desk with her camera. Aleksandra’s head was a whirl of emotions, her legs felt as if the would give way under her. She wanted to cry. She wanted to run back to her barracks and throw herself into the arms of her bunk mate, Alyona, who took such good care of her. It was cold in the small room and the girl rubbed her arms.

“I’m sorry it’s a bit chilly in here, Ukrainian summers are never warm — drink?” she didn’t wait for the girl to answer but poured her a shot of vodka, which she took gratefully. She immediately drained half, then coughed before putting the glass down on the table. Aleksandra watched as Yevgeniya took the camera up and felt sick with nerves at the reality of what she was about to do. She drank down the shot her commanding officer refilled her glass with.

“Nervous?” the older woman smiled at Aleksandra as she nodded. “Well don’t be. You’re a very lucky pilot. One day I’ll tell you what I had to do to win this.” She pointed to her Order of the Red Star. “And you are so very pretty, I love your uniform, it shows off your charms so well. Have you ever been an artist’s model? My mother had a friend in Paris, Rene Vivian, who looked just like you.”

Aleksandra shook her head, looked down at her dress, then heard the camera click as she smoothed it over her hips and blushed again. In reality it was the same standard uniform all the women were issued. But, she had to admit, at least it was a dress. On the first day of training Aleksandra, as well as all the other recruits, had been ushered into a large storeroom, where, piled on the floor in separate heaps, were bundles of enormous boots, rough woolen vests, standard male underwear – nothing to suggest that the 588th Night Bomber Regiment was an all-female unit. In other piles were ugly male tunics, wool trousers, overcoats. Aleksandra walked past the lieutenant who had brought them to the room and picked up two boots at random. They were mammoth. Later that day the sound of hysterical laughter could be heard all over the building as the recruits attempted to fashion themselves uniforms. Woolen vests dangled down below the knee, trousers were hitched up almost to the chin, and greatcoats — the pride of the Soviet armed forces — spilled across the floor behind them like monstrous veils for some unholy wedding ceremony.

It was nearly a month later that a package from Moscow brought the girls their dresses – drab, ugly things, true – but at least they were dresses and they could be made to fit. Aleksandra glanced nervously down at the low neckline that she suddenly felt now showed off far too much of her ample cleavage. Small metal buttons ran down the front to her waist.


“Yes, I think we can keep the boots on, they’ll show your legs nicely, it’s a shame there isn’t a single stocking left in the entire Union. War makes beggars of us all.”

Yevgeniya seemed to be thinking for a moment. Aleksandra stood waiting, shivering from cold, nerves, wondering what on earth she was supposed to do next.

“No, lets just play with what you’re wearing. You really are so pretty, I love your breasts.”

Aleksandra blushed again despite the chill of the room. Alyona would say the same thing, but that’s what bunk mates were suppose to say, was it not? Late at night, once the candles were doused and the barracks were dark and quiet save for the occasional moan and snore and stifled low-down dirty groan during those long summer night. Her arms came up to cover her chest.


“What panties are you wearing? Lift your skirt, show me.” The camera came up to Yevgeniya’s eye again. Aleksandra froze.

“Show you my …?”

“Lift your skirt, soldier. I will not send a woman into the air who refuses to follow instructions, she will kill herself and her navigator so do as you’re told – that is a direct order!”

Aleksandra jumped, as if she had been slapped, pulled up her skirt, gathering it quickly around her hips.

“Slowly, Comrade, slowly.”

Click, click, click.

Aleksandra felt foggy, stupefied, feeble-minded. Holding up her skirt while a commanding officer took photos of her pathetic, government-issued panties. She glanced down, looked at her unshaven legs, her feet in their ugly black boots. May that stray Nazi artillery shell everyone jokes about find its way over to this tent right now, she thought.

Click, click.

“Pull you’re panties higher up your hips for me, Comrade –” She lifted her skirt a little more with her free hand, then pulled her white cotton higher up her hips, making a W where the fabric cut across her girl-lips.

“Hmm, much better.”

She had Aleksandra lift her foot onto the wooden table, holding her skirt out to the side, asked her to smile, all the while the girl, still blushing, still embarrassed, did everything she was told to do.

“Turn around, yes – now, bend forward, lift your skirt high, higher, push your ass out, yes, like that.”

Aleksandra sighed, there was still that girlish need to cry inside her. What was it that Lady Macbeth desired to be so that she could commit the acts that made “her kind blush at”? Ah yes, “unsexed.” But if one is not born a woman, one is made a woman, why blush at all? If femininity is indeed an artifice, why not embrace Eros as deeply as we embrace Pathos? She let her skirt fall, reached for her glass. Yevgeniya poured her more vodka. Smiled at the young pilot’s inner-struggle.

“Comrade, listen to me. You’re in a bad situation. You want to fly but your pride stops you doing something so simple that it’s even recorded in the Bible as the first trick Lilith taught Eve before God made Adam and broke the two girls up. Fighting this only making it worse. You could at least try to enjoy it.”

“But–” Aleksandra stammered, drunkenly looking into the shot glass as if it contained secret answers. “What do you mean ‘Lilith and Eve’?”

“Listen, let’s make this easier for you shall we? You are going to pose for some naughty photos for me, if you want to fly there is no way out, you have to learn to take orders. If you don’t want to pack your bag tonight and go back to your Worker in Moscow or whoever it is who pays your bills, parasite. Now, I want you to take off your top before we go any further – now, soldier!”

Aleksandra felt a tear slide down her cheek, fumbled with the tiny metal buttons of her dress shirt, then glanced up at her commanding officer, only to pull the shirt wide, revealing her bra, a luxury for the women. Finally she pulled each cup down to free her breasts. The moment they were exposed, her nipples immediately puckered and hardened in the cold air, making her embarrassment obvious.

“Push your tits out, flygirl, be proud of what you have, Comrade Aleksandra.”

Doing what she was told, Aleksandra flushed, partly from the vodka and partly as she felt her exposed skin studied by lecherous eyes. She then drew in a surprised breath as Yevgeniya reached out, softly stroke each nipple, feeling the weight of each breast before drawing her blunt fingernails over the crimped skin of her aureoles, tugging softly, drawing on each nipple. When Alyona did this, that was fine, she was her bunk mate. But this? Aleksandra fought to stop herself covering her chest.

“My dear, you are beautiful.”

Aleksandra watched as she brought the camera in for a close-up of each.

Click, click, click.

The girl simply stood there in the cold with her arms crossed beneath her breasts, swaying slightly.



Yevgeniya bent down towards her left breast and Aleksandra felt the wet warmth of her mouth close around her so terribly erect skin.

She couldn’t help it. Aleksandra glanced down, watched as the older woman did the same to the other nipple, entranced, unable to move as tiny earthquakes traveled through her. She was gasping as Yevgeniya rose in front of her, didn’t resist as she bent forward, kissed the girl softly on the lips.

“Now, you will do as you’re told, won’t you, Comrade dear? Please, turn around, bend over.”

Aleksandra did as she was told. The vodka must have gone to her head. She turned, her breasts, swinging free, felt swollen, the nipples cold, hard, as her squadron leader’s spit dried upon them.

“Bend over more, dear.”

She did, put her hands down on the wooden table to support herself. She felt her skirt being pulled up over her back, didn’t resist as her panties were drawn down around her knees. She felt flushed and drunk as the camera clicked behind her. Yevgeniya took her free hand, brought it Aleksandra’s to her ass.

“I want you to hold the cheeks of your bottom apart, Comrade.”

Aleksandra glanced around at her.

“What? please — don’t make me –”

“Please, what?” Her commanding officer arched an eyebrow, smiled at the younger girl.

“Please, Sargent. Don’t ask me to – ah! piz’da!”

Yevgeniya’s hand had come down sharply on her naked, fleshy ass, sending a jolt stinging through her.

“I’ll spank you again, flygirl, if you keep being naughty.”

Aleksandra made a face and put her hands back on her ass.

“Now be a good girl, pull your cheeks apart.”

Aleksandra rubbed her warm bottom, reluctantly pulling her cheeks apart, instantly feeling how her anus was exposed to the cool air, as well as how wet her pussy was suddenly getting.

“Hmm, I love blonde hair, it’s almost as if you were shaved; so naked, so exposed.”

Aleksandra did feel exposed, as well as the older woman’s hand slide between her legs to touch her pubic hair.

“Ah, Comrade, you naughty girl. Hold your cunt open for me, push out your bum, more, yes, now keep your legs straight.”

Aleksandra did as she was told, heard the camera click, inches away. It would have been more comfortable, some part of her drunken brain thought, if she could let her panties drop to the floor, take off her boots, they made her feel tomboyish, almost as she had been surprised while sitting on the loo. She started as Yevgeniya’s free hand caressed the inside of her thighs, closed her eyes, bit her lip, still holding her ass cheeks apart as the other hand moved closer to her pussy, all the while she pushed her bum out further and further, inviting the camera to record all.

One slim finger gently pushed past the wet resistance of her vagina. She felt it enter her slowly, inch by inch, stifled a small groan of pleasure. “O, Alyona love,” the younger woman barely whispered. If Yevgeniya noticed she said nothing as her finger slipped in further, then finally again several times before it was joined by a second.

“You have a lovely wet cunt, Comrade. Keep your lips spread for me.”

Aleksandra tried to do as she asked, even though her legs were beginning to spasm, but then had to bring her left hand down to the table to support herself. She yipped as she was rewarded with a hard slap to her ass. The fingers returned to fill her, the feeling of being finger fucked hard consumed her. Yevgeniya’s free hand was tickling her exposed anus. She flinched at the first touch then pushed back to welcome the intrusion, but suddenly everything stopped.

“Why is it, Comrade?” Yevgeniya asked, looking up at Aleksandra, the shadow of her labia in the lantern light throwing shapes across her wild upturned face. “That when I ask you to show me your cunt you blush and act like an English Capitalist’s bordering school daughter, but the moment I lay a finger in your ass you are a pup in heat? Is this the secret to unsexing you?”

“No — it’s just–”

“You want me to fuck your ass with my finger don’t you?” It was neither a question nor a command. It was simply a statement of truth. The pressure of Yevgeniya’s finger returned as her other hand continued to play with the young pilot’s hot aching pussy. “Don’t you Comrade darling?” she insisted, a throaty whisper. “‘That I may pour my spirits in your ass; and chastise you with the vulgar valor of my tongue to all that impedes me from this golden hind’ — Would you like to feel my finger in your ass?” She slowly withdrew the fingers from Aleksandra’s pussy, then trailed the girl-juices over to her gaping anus. Aleksandra let out an involuntary moan. Yevgeniya’s hand came around to the others’ face and she forced her pussy-sticky fingers into the open mouth, smiling as Aleksandra greedily sucked on them.

“Comrade Aleksandra, would you like me to fuck your mouth as well? Now tell me why you want me to put my finger into your ass but not to see your delicious curly-q of a cunt.”

The fingers returned to her pussy, Yevgeniya’s thumb began to rub, to tease against her anus while her other fingers rubbed against her clitoris. “Tell me Comrade!” Her other hand came down in a stinging slap on her gaping ass.


“Oi vey! Yes, Sargent Rudenov –” Aleksandra yipped. She felt her left breast fondled, then the nipple was pinched, cruelly, followed by several hard slaps

“Please — do what you want with me –” Aleksandra didn’t care anymore. If this was how wars were won, then she had found a role that consumed her. She was grateful she wasn’t going to die ignorant that such pleasures existed. Why do they not teach these things in school?

“Tell me what you want.”

“To fly a Polikarpov –”

“To fly a Polikarpov? What would you do to get a chance like that? Something like this?” At that, while the three fingers from Yevgeniya’s hand continued to slip in and out of her cunt, she felt an extra finger from the older woman’s other hand slide into her anus.

“Yes!” the girl managed to gasp out.

“Then ask me to put it in your ass, flygirl.”

“Please, Sargent Rudenov! Ma’am, put your fingers in my ass!”

“No. Not on your first flight, little nestling, but,” — and here the fingers pushed but did not slip in — “for tonight I’ll put two fingers in for you.”

Aleksandra groaned, almost collapsed but caught herself, straightened her legs, pushing her splayed-open ass out higher. Yevgeniya was a cruel mistress when she wanted, bore down with her weight, smiling as the young pilot finally screamed out, her orgasm ripping like wild-fire through her, phosphorescence in the dark, finally collapsed onto the table. The squadron leader for the 588th Night Bomber Regiment removed her fingers from Aleksandra’s canvities, while the girl gazed foggily around, dimly wondering why the world was still spinning from her tail dive.

“Comrade Aleksandra, na kaleni, shalava.”

Aleksandra felt her hair being pulled, forced to her knees. Yevgeniya dragged her across to her chair, sat down, pulled up her own military issue skirt. Aleksandra watched in a daze as the older woman dragged her forward, forcing her face into her own wet pussy. There was a cruel side to Yevgeniya, as anyone who must send soldiers out to die in the hundreds every month. She grew tired of Aleksandra licking softly at first but then became excited as the girl began lapping at her with enthusiasm.

She turned over, pushing out her chunky, muscular ass. “Lick my cunt, my bum, flygirl, do it properly.”

Sorry that this second installment took me so long to complete, but I had several things going on in my life lately with a new job and a move to a different State….. Hope you enjoy Chapter 2.

I am Writing this story as a mini-series. There is quite a bit to tell of the year that I was in Korea.


CHAPTER 2 – In which I arrive at my new home and meat some of the people in the town.

I slept through a lot of the orientation that took place on my third day in Korea; after all, I hadn’t slept much and I had consumed several of those drinks that Bob called Korean Kool-Aid. One of the things that I did wake up for was the slide show of venereal diseases. Somehow I knew that they were probably trying to scare us G.I.s, but it still made me cringe. I glanced at my crotch when a particularly nasty looking slide was presented and had to shudder. I wished that I had known this before the last two nights.


I was sitting in front of the barracks with my duffle bag on the evening of the third day. The orientation was over and I was waiting for my ride to my new duty station. I had orders for Pusan Korea, which is a nice resort area on the coast in the south of South Korea. I had heard good things about that place from a couple people who had been there.

As luck would have it, my orders were changed while I was in processing in Seoul. I was not going to Pusan after all, but had been assigned to a communication site just 25 miles from Seoul. After the excitement of going to a real ‘resort’ area was crushed, I waited for my ride to the new site in a bad mood. I was dreading being in a small village after hearing about the area that I almost went to.

It wasn’t long before a pickup truck stopped at the barracks.

“Are you Crawford?” The driver asked.

I nodded ‘yes’ as I stood and grabbed my duffle bag.

The driver introduced himself as Sam as I climbed in the seat.

The ride consisted of the usual small talk. Sam is from Alabama. Sam has been here for four months, shares the radio site with another person who is leaving Korea in three weeks. Blaa.. Blaa. I wasn’t in a talkative mood, so I listened.

45 minutes later we were in a small town, or village, to the south west of Seoul. We presented IDs at the front gate of an army base and drove to the back gate. Out the back gate and we followed the road up a hill to a fenced building. The Korean gate guard opened the gate and we parked next to a cinderblock building. I was walking inside of my new home a few minutes later.

A building that housed rather large radios; one main and another for a backup. We were tasked with providing communications from the compound at the bottom of the hill to their headquarters in Seoul. We lived on the radio site because we had to ensure that we had 24 hour a day support. If the radio quit working, we were to make sure it was repaired to keep from interrupting the communication.

I walked inside and Sam pointed to an empty bunk where I placed my duffle bag. There was a line of wall lockers forming a wall between the radios and the living area. At the back of the room was one doorway leading outside and another leading to a restroom and a large 4 head shower. I soon learned how lucky we were to have such a shower. I learned later that a hot shower had the same effect on these Koreans as a Porsche and a stack of money. That shower became the setting for some group sex-but that is later.

Along one wall was a long table that held a large 4 burner hot plate. A dining table and three chairs, a sofa and three living room chairs completed the furnishings.

After my 2 minute tour of the place I sat at the dining table and lit a cigarette. I stared at the pinup that was spread on the table. The Pet was staring at me and smiling. She had her legs spread and two fingers were buried in her wet pussy. The centerfold was covered with Plexiglas to protect it from the food that was eaten there.

We were getting extra pay since we did not live in the barracks. I learned that extra pay meant that we could visit the grocery store, or commissary in military lingo. That also meant that we could purchase things that could be sold on the black market for extra money. That would be handy during my stay here. I had learned to like the black market during my stay here. But that experience comes later.

After the last couple nights, I was hoping to catch up on some sleep. Sam had other ideas. He brought two beers to the table and sat across from me.

“I’m taking you to the village tonight.” He announced.

I popped the top of the beer and took a big drink. “OK.” I said and proceeded to gulp the beer that he had given me.

“I’ll let you meet Jennie.”

Jennie was Sam’s girl in the village. I learned that the Koreans liked to give themselves American nicknames, and she had picked Jennie for some reason.

Two hours later I was sitting in a ragged booth in an unnamed bar in the village. It was still cold outside, and the large wood burning stove in the middle of the club was doing a good job of keeping the room toasty warm. The DJ was spinning American rock and roll, and we listened to the Rolling Stones as I drank soju. Soju is what the guys called Korean Kool-Aid, and it was the stuff I had on my first night in Seoul. The combination of the wood stove and the soju had me feeling real warm inside.

Sam and Jennie were sitting across from me. Jennie was a very pretty girl with dark brown hair. I’m not sure if she was a Korean and American mix, or if she kept her hair colored brown, but she was one beautiful girl.

Every so often a girl would sit next to me and ‘let’ me buy her a drink. I had to remind myself that they were only interested in my money and not in me.

Then a cute girl sat next to me and I was lost in her eyes. Sometimes you meet someone and you know you are on the same page. Even though she only knew a little English, we seemed to feel in sync; or maybe it was the soju.

Jennie was speaking to her in Korean and I was joking with Sam, and it seemed natural; even if it would only last for one night. It could have been the soju, but I felt warm inside sitting next to her. It didn’t help when she placed her hand on my leg and starting inching it up to touch the tip of my erect penis. She acted like it was the most natural thing in the world. She was laughing at something Jennie had said, and soon she was gently rubbing my cock.

I leaned over the table toward Sam. “Hey is this chick eighteen?” I asked.

Sam and Jennie both laughed. “Of course she is.” Sam answered. “These girls may look young, but all the girls working here are older than eighteen.”

I smiled and casually put my hand on her thigh as she squeezed my throbbing penis through my pants. I moved my hand up her thigh until my fingers touched the thin panties that covered her crotch.

I looked around the club to make sure that we weren’t being stared at and realized that noone even gave us a moment’s notice. There were other GIs and girls sitting at tables, booths and a few were dancing.

I gently rubbed her warm cunt through those thin panties and she squeezed my dick harder. She was staring into my eyes as I stroked her moist panty covered pussy. I felt like I could get lost in her smile as she quickened her breathing. I was kissing her in no time and felt her tongue gently probing my mouth. I felt like I could cum with her expert squeezing of my dick. She was gently rubbing the tip of my cock with a finger while she squeezed. I was really under her spell as she brought me close to cumming. I was just about to remove her hand when…

“So why don’t you two get a fucking room?” Sam muttered from across the table.

His words broke the spell that she had on me and I noticed that he had his arm around Jennie and was stroking her breast. He grinned at me as he pinched her nipple through the blouse. She pretended to be angry and slapped his arm, but she couldn’t hide her grin.

Sam and Jennie decided we should visit the other two clubs in town so that I would know the lay of the land.

I didn’t want to leave the girl that had me close to cumming in my pants, but I thought that I could always find my way back here later.

The next club that we walked to was almost like the one that we left. More American music, more Korean chicks wanting drinks, and more cock rubbing greeted us in this club. I wanted to take a different girl to bed, hell I wanted to take them all. It just seemed that there was more pussy than anyone could deal with.

I remember at one point Sam and Jennie finished a dance and sat back down across from me and the new girl that was feeling my cock. I leaned over the table and told Sam about the plan that I came up with on the spur of the moment.

“I’m gonna make a bet that I can fuck every little pussy in this whole god-damn village before I go back to the world.” That was obviously the soju talking.

“Good luck.” Sam muttered as Jennie nuzzled his neck. Jennie had heard me and I noticed she laughed. I laughed back. I’m glad he didn’t make that bet, but I tell myself that I almost made it.

The girl that was sitting next to me stood, took my hand and led me toward the back of the club. I made an “Oh well” gesture to Sam and Jennie as I followed the girl to the back door of that club and into a small outdoor walkway. The walkway was like an outdoor narrow alley lined with doors.

The girl (I wish to this day that I could remember her name) opened one of the doors and I followed her into a room not larger than a normal living room in America. She took a large block of coal outside and was back in a flash. She dropped her jacket to the floor and led me to a futon at the far end of the room.

I lay on my back, my head propped on two pillows, as she unfastened my belt. I lifted myself as she slid my pants down and started licking my already hard dick. I watched as she looked into my eyes and slowly guided my cock into her mouth. As her lips got near the base of my dick I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and lay back to enjoy the blowjob.

She sucked me for a while and I finally reached her head and cupped her cheeks in my hands to lift her mouth off of my dick. She understood what I wanted. She stood, smiled and started undressing.

My cock throbbed as I watched her top come off and expose her small breasts and hard nipples. She pinched both of her nipples to give me a show and make them stand out even more. She must have seen my approval; she smiled as she slid her short skirt down her thin legs and stepped out of it.

She turned and bent to pick up that skirt and showed me a wonderful view of that tight little ass of hers. She faced me and ran her hand down her flat stomach and under her small lace panties. She smiled as her hand made small circles over her mound.

I could hardly stand it and I reached my cock and started a slow pumping with my hand. It wasn’t long before she slid the panties down and climbed into the bed next to me. I fondled her nipples while I kissed her neck. She sighed and closed her eyes as I licked first one nipple and then the other. I sucked one of her nipples into my mouth and stroked her pussy hair and moved my fingers to find her engorged clit. A little further down I found that she was really wet. I was breathing harder as I slowly let one of my fingers probe her pussy. She raised her hips to help my finger push inside.

It was when I was about to climb on her that she muttered in broken English.

“You want all night?”

I was startled. What was I supposed to say? I had my middle finger knuckle deep in a very warm, wet and tight pussy. Her hand had grasped my cock, and she was making little pumping motions with it.

“Of course.” I answered.

She wrinkled her nose.

“Yes.” I said.

She smiled and pulled my cock toward her wet slit. I realized that she wasn’t quite as innocent as I thought.

I moved over her as she led my cock to her wet slit. I felt her rub the head up and down, coating it with her juice. I pushed gently when I felt the head at her entrance. She was tight! I slowly pushed the head inside and pulled back. She tensed as I once again pushed the head inside and this time I kept pushing until I had my dick half way inside her. I stopped to let her adjust to being stretched, and then pushed the rest of my dick inside when I felt her relax again.

I couldn’t believe how she felt. I had been with hookers before, but these Koreans were so innocent and had some really tight pussies; at least so far.

My dick was inside to the hilt and I started fucking her faster. She moaned as I starting pounding harder. I grabbed her tiny ass as I pounded into that little pussy. Her moans got loud as I slammed inside her. I got close to cumming way too soon, so I stopped the plunging and lay on her with the full length of my cock inside that warm cocoon like sheath.

I slowly slid my wet cock out of her pussy and rolled onto my back. She got on me and guided me back inside that pussy. She was gyrating on my dick like she was possessed. Looking at this girl that looked so young, I had to remind myself what Sam told me about her being over eighteen. She was licking her lips and humping me. She had closed her eyes and I knew that she was nearing an orgasm. I was getting close myself. She humped and started moaning so loudly that I wondered who was listening, but I didn’t let that keep me from reaching around her lovely butt and holding her ass cheeks as I plunged inside her like a mad man. I teased her butt hole with my little finger as I flooded her with cum. I felt my cum running down the crack of my ass even before I was finished pumping. I hugged her to me as the last of my orgasm made me spasm one last time.

She dripped some of my cum as she stood to get a towel. She cleaned cum from her pussy, and then she moved to a water bowl to wash. I watched her ass as she washed and I started getting hard again. She brought a wet rag to wash my cock and laughed when she saw that I was hard again. I lay back and savored the gentle teasing as she gently washed my cock. My cock was pulsing as she gently cleaned my hard on.

She took the rag back to the wash basin and by the time she got back in bed I was ready for round two. This time I positioned her on all fours so that I could watch her tight butt as I pushed my cock into that pussy that was wet again.

She humped me as I watched her pussy stretch over my cock and I loved the way her pussy juice creamed my cock. Her juice was taking on a milky look as I pounded faster and, again, I was getting close to cumming way too soon. I pulled out and put the tip of my dick at her ass. She started trying to tell me something, but she didn’t move as I slowly pushed the head of my cock into her tight ass hole.

I watched as my dick stretched her puckered hole. She held her breath as the head of my dick slowly pushed inside. I stopped when the head disappeared inside, waiting for her to relax. After what seemed like two minutes I started slowly pushing again. She reached behind her and pushed on my stomach as if to say ‘wait’. I stopped for a few seconds and then slowly started pushing again. It took a while to get my cock inside, but I finally felt her ass relax enough to let me bury my dick to the hilt in her tight ass. I slowly started pumping in and out, and she started moaning and thrusting back to meet my plunges. If I thought her pussy was tight, this was way tighter. I had a hard time keeping from cumming. I was slowly pumping in and out of the tightest hole that I had ever fucked. I was gasping with each thrust.

I pulled out and moved down so that I could taste her juice. I let my tongue caress her wet pussy. I let the tip of my tongue tease her clit and she started humping my mouth. I was licking faster and I felt her getting close to another orgasm as I slid a finger inside of her pussy. I could feel her pussy pulse as she came; grabbing my finger like it was trying to milk it. Her pussy was pulsing on my finger and she was making little squealing noises. When she came her pussy gripped my finger like it wasn’t going to let me go. I wished that it was my cock that was being squeezed.

After she stopped convulsing, she rolled on her back and I lay next to her. I let my fingers play with her wet cunt, and moved until I was teasing her pussy with the head of my dick. I had moved until we formed an ‘X’, and I slowly eased my cock inside her as she lay on her back. She was spent, but I started fucking anyway. I scissored one of her legs with mine so that I could bury my dick in her to the hilt and fucked her fast. I reached her breasts to pinch and fondle her nipples while my cock pumped inside of her wet pussy. It wasn’t long before I came for the second time that night.

She didn’t even bother to clean herself this time, and she fell asleep in my arms.

I made it back to the site early. I collapsed in my bunk and was dozing when I heard the refrigerator open and someone walk to my bunk. I opened my eyes to the sound of a beer being opened.

“Time to wake up.” Sam said as he handed me a beer.

I sat up and took a drink. This was the beginning of a ritual that we would relive many times during our stay there. I would become used to being awakened with either a beer or a joint. What a fucking job!

July 24, 1842

I’ve long kept this journal and told you my secrets because I aint gon’ tell any’n else. Meh…. probably for the best. I’ll always keep you on my person though, thats a give it.

I’m 24 and yet to have found a wife. That’s been the mass hysteria to my father. He plans on marrying me to some pretty thang from another town but I have no interest. No one ever asked me why I don’t want to get married. It can’t be forced. It has to be two people meeting each other in a blaze of passion. That’s how I see it, I tell you.

Today was a pretty bad day in the mines; Jerry has it out for my head, I swear. Goddamn smart guy though. I think the illusions of having a great life out in California with the gold is what brought me here…. and to amount to what? I miss my old life in Virginia. But then again, I was dirt poor there; Where is my real home, is it here?

July 25, 1842

Oh, man! What a funny tale today! Lil’ Joseph put marmalade in the guns again. I tell you, my brother has it out for dem police types. Dad’s always told me to respect them savages anyway. They don’t do us’a one! That’s for sure. But it just kills me when Joey goes and does that. I laugh writing it!

Oh…. also, There’s this trial for these thieves tomorrow. Seems mighty big to me. Got no clue how that’s going down. Apparently they were trying to rob poor ol’ Mr. Wrethold but got caught. Poor fools…

July 30, 1842

By, golly journal! This is a story for the books!

I feel kind of contemporary about myself knowing the past is over and that all is now the present and future to come. But its probably better this way, I’ll explain:

The day of the court changed everything. I watched in the courtroom as the criminals were being tethered up at the front near Markus, the leader of our settlement, here. There were three of ‘em criminals. One was big, muscle wise, and such. The other two were hiding their faces though. Don’t know why, I just gave all my attention to the big’n and boy, did he look ticked!

I wasn’t paying attention too much to what Markus was saying to the whole village in the one cramped room. I was just starin’ at the big’n. He had his mouth gagged with a black cloth and wearing a rich man’s hat. He musta stol’n it.

I snapped back to reality when Markus shouted, “What do we do with these vixens?”

I looked at the big’n. He looked mighty mad at all us folk. Someone shouted, “Hang ‘em all!” which was seconded and supported by most all in the room. The big’n opened his eyes all wide. Right then, I saw him staring at me. I felt really bad and all, he was in the prime of his life, the nicest looking face I’ve ever seen and in a position like a lil’ rabbit. But his bright blue eyes were starin’ into my very soul!

“No! People, let ‘em be! Some jail time’ll set ‘em right!” I shouted.

Everyone was looking at me then, I tell ya!

“You be quiet now, boy.” My father started.

“You best listen to your father, son.” Old man Hallow added.

But I couldn’t help it. I have been treated like a baby and a second-class citizen all my life. I had to take charge somehow!

“Let ‘em go!” I continued.

“Boy, this is your final warning!” Markus yelled, outraged at me.

“No! I don’t care! This is autonomy! I was once an American! We don’t have values like this. We’re a people, so let’m go!”

“We aint American, boy. We’s Mexican citizens here in California! Get ‘em fellas.” Markus finished.

Everyone was cheering as people came to get me, I was trapped. Assholes, I hate ‘em all. They took me and tied me up. They had no legal authority to do this. They have to ask the ayuntaiento to a final decision like this. We were prosecuted to be hung and were taking to the center of town to be lynched. They stood us up atop a wagon and tied our hands good. I was on the left end, next to the big’n. No one tied ropes ’round our necks yet, they were saying something I couldn’t hear at the bottom. All I saw was my father pleading with Markus. They were dragging him away by the force of two men, his attempt failed.

I needed to do something in this opportunity, but there was Goddamn police everywhere and they were armed. I tried real hard to get my hands free, with no luck. I got on my knees and tried to undo the big’ns with my teeth. It was a lil more loose, but still tied. Markus saw me doing that and ordered them to tie the ropes ’round our necks now.

The big’n looked at me while someone moved his mouth gag to over his eyes; what an insult. I was never given a gag, I was spared sight during my hanging. They slowly pushed the wagon back and one by one, we all fell. I fell last, but what would it really matter?

When I fell, I felt like I had no air in my lungs. I was just trying to keep that one breath of air I had; it was all I had left. God, I was lucky I didn’t break my neck right then! I thought my life was over! I was a goner! But suddenly, as I look to the side to the big’n, I see his hands above his head. I watched as he pulled himself up to the post above all us. He untied himself!

The police pulled out their guns as I lost sight of him above me. I was being pulled up! I musta been all sorts o’ purple. But this man saved my life. I caught my breath and we jumped to the side. The police tried to shoot at us but all that came out of their guns was marmalade! What joy met my eyes!

The big’n just ran, so I followed him. We were getting chased by the whole town now. The big’n was all swerve-y like, and by golly, we outran every single one of thems town folk. I just ran along with him, it was the rush that kept me along with him, I guess.

We ran until it got dark and when we knew we were safe, we stopped running. The first thing he told me was that “It’d be best I go to the mainland Mexico. No one would know me there.”

I really didn’t reply, I couldn’t. I was exhausted. “Name’s Red.” He started.

“Richard.” I mustered, still exhausted.

We walked through a couple towns and it turned out we were going north, not south. It didn’t seem to bother him though.

We didn’t talk much until we got to another town on the third night. I used the last of my money on another inn and on some food and whiskey and we relaxed on the two beds. He told me how grateful he was though I felt like I didn’t contribute much to his survival. Even I or him didn’t stay for his friends, they died. We were tired, but for some reason I can’t figure out, neither of us could fall asleep. Finally, he came over to me and in one foul swoop, he kissed the living heck outta me!

I never seen it coming and for some reason, I kissed right back. It was so passionate. We were similar in body structure, but it was obvious that he was more muscular. He had short brown hair and the cutest blue eyes I’ve seen in my life. He had stubble running across his face and had the smell of tobacco on his person. He took off my shirt and I undid his. He has perfect pecks and a beautiful six-pack they my eyes were drawn to.

This was dangerous! But I no longer cared.

As he lay on my bed, he took off his pants and took out his eight inch member. It was a big’n! I looked at him, “I’m not sure what to do now…” I started.

“It’s easy”-he started-”Just get ‘er wet’n sloppy, like.” he smirked.

I was scared but dropped my head onto him and put my tongue to his tip. His hands guided me down and around his shaft with my tongue and it was mighty comfortin’. Never in my life would I have imagined being a runaway and more surprisingly, sucking on a man’s cock! Sodomy or even being with another man was certainly a far more dangerous crime than being a thief in these parts.

With each downward movement of my head, I noticed his cock engulfing my mouth. Gagging slightly, I continued bobbing my head until my nose was hitting his base upon each motion.

“Wooey!” He exclaimed as his breathes got deeper and faster.

“I’d ask ya to hightail it, but I want a piece of that fine ass you got there!” He continued.

“Will you quiet down-”-I stopped-”What if someone hears us?”

“You know how many times I’ve gotten caught? Funny thing, when you’re running away from a town with your pants down! Heheh.”

I raised an eyebrow, but he was serious. With a full boner, he went reaching for my pants. He seemed extremely horny as he moved his tongue across his lips as he got my past my pants.

“S’ like im a drunken teen again!” He continued as he took off my pants. I was pretty stiff, seven inches and all.

“Now bend over!” He proclaimed.

“No…” I paused “Lay on the bed, we do it my way.” I said smiling. He shrugged his shoulders and did as I said and laid on the bed. I made my way over and aligned my arse right up to his aching tool. I felt him begging, I let him wait for it, real nice. Finally, I squatted until his tip plopped into me. I kept going down but it hurt; the pain equaled the pleasure as I continued to move down until he was halfway in. I moaned in pain; I yelled, my face wrinkled and my jaw dropped.

I started moving up and down using my hands and feet as support. All of a sudden, like I was being taken over, I howled like a doggie in ecstasy! I slammed his hard cock all the way up me up and down, over and over again. I felt so alive! It went on for a while until I felt him buck. I lifted my chest and laid my head back as he released his load all up inside me. By golly, it’s the best sensation y’ever knew! But my dick hasn’t been tended to yet and it was throbbing.

I leaned in for a kiss as I bounced back and forth. We aggressively kissed as he squeezed me in place. When we stopped, I smiled and got up. I picked up the bottle’ll whiskey and went back to him.

“Whatchu doin’?” He asked all confused.

“Well, you want to feel like a drunken teen, don’t ya?” I smirked. He grinned.

I lifted his leg and he continued to stay all confused. I took the bottle and manually poured some into his ass. He winced, then widened his eyes.

“What in the hell are you doin’?” He questioned all stirred up.

“Having my turn at the fun. I learned this trick years ago!” I finished as I lined my rock hard dick up against his nice tight muscled virgin ass. He seemed unsure of himself but allowed my entrance. I pushed slowly and the wetness allowed me to slip right in. This was a totally different experience; my dick was engulfed by this hunk’s tight ass. He had an angry look on his face and yelled. I laughed a lil n’ continued to pump slowly.

His yellings soon turned into deep moans of pleasure. I chugged some whisky and changed my pace. My slow motions were getting faster as I started slamming my dick in n’ out of his hot ass. We went on for a long while and I noticed him get more and more comfortable. His face went from wrinkled to smiling. I halted my pumping and noticed his hips were thrusting back at me; he wanted my tool. I was in heaven.

Eventually, I pumped real hard until I was so deep inside him, I let go my huge load. I never came like that before in my life, it was the best feeling of pleasure one could ask for! We both moaned a big load moan of pleasure together as I squeezed him in place. I collapsed next to him and we continued to kiss aggressively until my mouth was sore.

Even though we had two beds, we laid naked in my bed together, naked and cuddled for the night.

I woke up around dawn and heard the door shut slowly; it was enough to wake me up. Red was leaving me. I quickly got dressed and ran out to him.

“You were just going to leave me there, all alone?!” I started angrily stopping him. He said nothing.

“And you took the whiskey! I paid for it, you bandit!” I finished.

He turned, “I stole yer money too!” he smirked as he continued to walk off.

“What do you plan to do with your life? You’re a criminal! make a life with me, here, now!”

He continued to walk off.

I teared up, “We could make a living here! Have money. How many times have you gone to bed without a bed, or a full belly?”

He stumbled a little. He was still tipsy from last night. He glanced at me and stopped. He looked down, then at me with spite.

“Just go… if nothin’ ‘ere mattered you, none.” I finished, turned away. All I heard were footsteps in the opposite direction. I wanted to cry, but I was just filled with so much disappointment. I held myself together as best I could; I was failing.

About ten seconds after, I heard the footsteps cease. I turned and I saw him in the distance with those same eyes he had when I’d tried to save him the first time. A tear fell from my eye and I laughed a little as we came together in one big hug.

“You know”-he started- “The reason I saved you from being hung wasn’t because I was glad you tried to save my ass. I wanted half the attention on you as I ran away.” He said as I grew flustered.

“But you followed me and though I tried, we were an inseparable pair, you n’ I!” He finished. I was confused, but smiled and hugged him harder.

The words ended there but we were to start a new life in this small town together. Red worked in the mines and I worked in a general store. But all that mattered to me was that when I got home at the end of the day, I was with Red, The big’n.

Annabel was feeling hungry. It was half past twelve and it was time. Mr. Crawford would be in his sitting room now, the family all having sat down to their own luncheon. It was time for the servants to take their ease, and Annabel finished folding her lady’s underthings. The last bit of lace squared away, Annabel found herself rushing down the back stairs towards the ground floor, and Mr. Crawford’s sitting room. He would be waiting for her, his blond hair slicked back with pomade, his black uniform perfect, except for the strain at the front. How she hungered for it, that delicious organ hard and weeping for her. She would milk him today, swallowing him down and slobbering on his cock until he spurt into her hungry little mouth. Annabel slowed her pace down the stairs. She must not let her hunger get the best of her today. Her young master was depending upon her. Finally she stood before Mr. Crawford’s door. She paused, and scratched lightly before opening the door and slipping in.

John Crawford sat in his favorite chair in his small parlor, hard and ready for his noontime servicing. The second housemaid was a sly thing – he did not fool himself into thinking that he was her only service, as her mouth was made for fucking and she seemed to hunger for his cock. She served the eldest son of the house his tea every morning, and no doubt she serviced the young master just as well as she did his father’s butler. He rubbed his cock through his trousers at the thought, at the idea of fucking the same mouth that the handsome young master had fucked. Of his spunk and the young master’s spunk mixing in the sly housemaid’s belly.

A scratch announced her, and she slipped in, her dark eyes knowing and not in the least coy. She slinked over to his chair without a word, a lithe little alley cat on the prowl. Without a word, she sank to her knees between his opened legs. Instead of pulling his cock out immediately though, as she usually did, she lowered her eyes and unlaced his shoes. Slipping them off one at a time, she stripped him of his shoes and socks, so his long toes and callused heels were exposed.

At her soft bidding, he stood up, fully dressed in his bare feet, his toes curling slightly on the hard wooden floor. His cock was at her mouth level then, but she did not touch it. Instead, she stood as well, and went about quietly and efficiently undressing him, folding and hanging each item of clothing neatly and properly. Soon he was down to his smalls, the linen strained from encasing his engorged prick, the soft fabric damp with precum and stained slightly yellow around the opening from little droplets of piss. She made a husky little noise, almost masculine in pitch and timbre. He quivered in response.

She was still fully and properly dressed, but he made no move to similarly undress her. She dropped to her knees again between his feet and slowly pulled on his smalls, inching them down over his buttocks. They caught on his erection, but she smoothly adjusted him and soon he was stepping out of his underthings, completely nude before her. He was not a tall man, short but wide and barrel chested, covered in coarse and wiry light brown hair. His thighs were meaty and likewise furred, but his back and buttocks contained only blond peach fuzz. His sluttish housemaid licked her lips, but made no move to swallow his cock yet, and he wondered at her restraint. Usually she hungered for it, couldn’t wait to put his prick into her rapacious little mouth.

Without a word, she pushed on his thighs and he sat back on his chair again, the nubbly nap of the raw silk abrading deliciously at his back and legs. He spread his legs, giving her access to his cock, but also displaying his arsehole to her perusal as well. She licked her lips again, and he could tell that she wanted him in her mouth. Instead, she rose up slightly on her knees and place first one, then the other of his legs upon the arms of his chair. His breath began to saw in and out of his chest, the furred expanse heaving a bit. His head fell back and his eyes closed as he adjusted his ass to be closer to the edge of the chair. He was exposed completely, his ass open to her as it had been to no one since his brief affair with the butcher’s son, before he went into service fifteen years ago. He trembled in an agony of exposure and desire – his sly housemaid had unmanned him and all he could do was hook his legs around the chair arms, hoping and praying that he wouldn’t have to beg her.

He let out an unwilling growl that turned into a little moaning noise by accident. Beg. That’s what he would do. Beg her to lick his arsehole, which was flexing and opening like a hungry little mouth itself. Beg her to put her fingers in him, to suck him. Oh god, beg her to do anything she liked.

But he didn’t have to say word. Crawford felt her breath on his balls, on his arsehole, and on the sensitive bit of flesh between the two. It was there that he first felt her tongue, on that small in-between place, and with the soft warmth of saliva and mouth, he moaned again, softly, and without a growl. Oh yes. She tongued her way up, tracing the seam between his cods with just the tip of her tongue, lightly, maddeningly. Then she took one of those small round balls into her mouth and sucked gently, then licking with the flat of her tongue, then surrounding his cod with her mouth. She did the same to the other. Then she licked her way down to his clenching hole and rimmed it with her flexible tongue, and he felt himself begin to unravel, slowly but inexorably.

Annabel licked round the lovely little hole of the top servant of Eastmore, Mr. John Crawford, and felt both desire and triumph. He was hers this afternoon, and soon he would belong the young master, just as she did. Anna gave herself over to his delicious ass, wiggling her tongue into his hole, sucking and slurping, and even chewing a bit on the rim. She buried her nose in his furry crack and smelled that musky, slightly acrid odor of helplessly aroused male. She squirmed a bit as she devoured his ass, her own pussy was creaming and her clit cried out for its own friction. But she resisted – she would not get herself off until he was spurting down her throat. And she was determined to milk him before he spurt. She slowed her ravenous mouth, pulling the intensity back so that she only licked round his hole, inserting her tongue up his arse every few rounds. Freed of the paralyzing power of her onslaught, his hips began to flex and move, pushing his ass toward her mouth as she penetrated him with her tongue. Oh yes. She knew what he wanted now. He wanted more penetration, deeper. Annabel decided to oblige him, as she too felt the overwhelming desire to embed herself into him, seeking that small place inside each man that would push out those thick ropes of prejactulate into her waiting mouth.

Annabel moved her mouth up to his cods again, and sent her thumb questing into his slick hole. It slid in easily, drawing another breathy moan from Mr. Crawford. She screwed it in and out a few times. Stilling her thumb in his ass, which rhythmically clenched on it, she removed her mouth from his balls and looked up at him spread before her.

He was a sluttish sight – one her young master would enjoy, no doubt, but for now, he belonged to her. He was spread wide, his wide body deliciously abandoned, his furred chest slick and slightly matted with sweat. He’d hooked his knees and feet firmly around the arms of the chair for stability and leverage, and he’d also thrown his arms above his head, holding onto the low back of his armchair in a desperate bid to stay upright. His armpits were hairy and exposed, and even over the musk of his ass that still coated her face, she could smell the sweat of his pits. His cock, which she had yet to touch at all, was red and shiny, the foreskin drawn completely back from the head and wrapped around the tip’s base like a strangling collar. It was wide and short, like him, thickening substantially at the root. It leaked copiously, and Annabel could smell that too. In fact the whole of the small room simply reeked of his sex and musk, sweat and precum, and the mix of her saliva and his ass. Annabel squirmed at this and she felt her nipples become abraded by the cotton of her chemise. Her thumb was stuck deep in his arse. At the longish pause in which she admired his big, donkey body, he’d begun to thrash a bit, trying to fuck himself on her small thumb, rubbing his body on the chair, searching for friction, searching for more of what he needed her to give him.

“Please,” he whispered. “Oh, please.” Annabel smiled then, smiled her alley cat smile, which was knowing and triumphant. Oh, yes, she enjoyed controlling a man’s body this way. There were only a few men who could control her, her nasty, lusty temperament. And Mr. Crawford was not one. Oh, no, he would be a slave to her, a slave to what she could make his body feel. She knew that he liked men for the most part, but a man in service could not go seeking out such things, could not even go seeking out a woman really. So he had succumbed easily to her cocksucking skills, though he never returned the favor, never asked to see her tits or stuck his fingers in her quim. But she was a hungry kitty, and she loved his big wide cock, and the taste of him spurting down her throat.

“Say it again,” she purred. “Tell me what you want me to do, Mr. Crawford.” Her voice was not subservient, as it usually was after she sucked him off. He opened his eyes up at her, pupils dilated with lust.

“Please.” He said it not in a true whisper, but in a low sotto voce, which betrayed both his surprise and his surrender. “Please fuck me with your fingers.”

Annabel slyly smiled again and replacing her thumb with the tips her index and middle fingers. His arse blossomed open to accept her digits and he bore down on them. His head fell back again, and his fingers tightened on the wooden chair back above his head. Annabel’s fingers went questing through his tight passage, seeking the walnut of sensation she knew was there. When she found it, he let out a little screamy moan, and then quickly clamped his jaw shut. As she manipulated the little gland, his cock began to leak copiously, viscous strands of clearish fluid pouring out onto his furry belly trail. Annabel stretched upwards on her knees, licking his belly where the fluid had collected, and then placing her mouth just over the head of his cock. She continued to massage his internal gland, and the milky fluid poured into her mouth. She suckled it greedily, her hunger finally overtaking her.

Mr. Crawford had to let go of the chair in order to bury his face in his arm to muffle his cries. He slumped down, curving his back unnaturally down. But Annabel continued her massage for long minutes, stimulating his gland, gentling sucking down the fluid she milked from his rigid cock. He began to buck his hips a bit, and she knew that he would come any second. She engulfed nearly his whole cock down her throat, stopping an inch before the base, as it was just too wide for her jaw. This stimulation pushed him straight over the edge, and for long seconds he erupted into her mouth as she pumped him relentlessly. There was so much semen there, that some spilled out of her mouth and down his cock, as she struggled to swallow it all.

Annabel relaxed her fingers and jaw, but she removed neither. Instead, she gently lapped at his cock until he was clean and shiny with spit. Next she sank down fully to her knees again, and she removed her fingers slowly from his arsehole. As they emerged, the hole fluttered and gaped a bit before closing and Annabel savored the sight of a man pliant before her. Rising to her upper knees again, she unhooked first one leg and then the other from the chair, settling his feet on the floor so that he might push upwards and relieve the pressure on his curved back.

John Crawford couldn’t feel his feet. Or his fingers. Or anything really. Nonetheless, he pushed upwards into a semi-reclined position and opened his eyes to see that lovely cat Annabel licking her lips and rubbing her nipples at his feet.

His brain had not quite engaged again after that stunning orgasm. “What.” He managed to croak. “What possessed you…?”

Annabel gave him slyest smile he had yet seen from his alley cat. “I’ve been having my fun with you. To amuse myself. And to amuse the young master.”

Crawford stared at her uncomprehending for a moment, and then felt a spasm of both lust and fear. “What does Master Alexis have to do with it?”

She chuckled, low and knowing. “Oh, Mr. Crawford. I think you’ll find out.”

July 2018
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