The Good, the bad, and the evil

Nature of the Beast II The Good, the Bad, and the Evil Ciarra Sims All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2005 Ciarra Sims

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ISBN (13): 978-1-59596-283-6

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Chapter One Carol looked out the kitchen window into the backyard where her small daughter sat cross-legged, playing in the sandbox. Playing wasn’t exactly the correct term for what Alaina was intent on doing. Drawing was more like it. Carol thought Alaina had outgrown the sandy playground, but just this last week the four-year-old had returned to the small square wood-framed box next to the swing set and begun to draw. Alaina loved to draw and she was quite good at it. Even using a simple tree switch and scratching marks and curves in the sand she could turn rudimentary lines into caricatures of great detail. Everything from flowers to imaginative fantasy animals that resembled prehistoric and mythological creatures. Carol felt blessed that her daughter exhibited such a free, unfettered imagination. Heaven knew how fast she was growing up and reality’s demands would set in. Carol wanted to protect her from the pain and uncertainty for as long as she could. She wished someone had been there to help her in the days before Alaina’s birth. It was a time of confusion so deep it bordered on amnesia. She remembered back to that summer four years ago when she had arrived with other fellow Gentak employees at the survival camp the company insisted every employee attend. There she had met Alan, Alaina’s father. Their brief courtship was more like an intense summer romance. She could recall Alan’s smell, the fresh pine forest combined with smoky mesquite. He was athletic, funny and very sexy to Carol’s eager, trusting heart. But after entering the forest to begin the grueling trek mandated by the camp, her memory fogged. It was as if the thoughts were there, just out of her grasp, and try though she might, the only result was a blinding headache when she attempted to pierce the misty veil.

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Alan had been the leader of her troop. She had fallen head over heels for him -that much her memory taunted her with. Carol woke many nights from dreaming so vividly of his touch on her body, she tingled and ached. He had made her so hot back then, she would have done anything to feel him against her, inside her, moving deep within until she cried out and climaxed. It had been her first experience with multiple orgasms. She could still feel the hardness of his cock against her thigh as she opened her legs and welcomed him. But Alan wasn’t about to let her off that easily. He paused inside her, while running his hands over her breasts in small circles, tweaking her nipples with his lips, then nipping them, pulling them gently. Nerves connected to her pussy screamed as raw passion made Carol clutch Alan to her, trying to force him to move. With a chuckle, Alan would thrust gently at first then harder. Carol met him eagerly move for move. It was beautiful and savage at the same time. He rose above her, grasping her hips and driving himself deeper and deeper until Carol screamed in orgasm. But Alan wasn’t finished. His self-control from surviving in the forest for days at a time had taught him to discipline his body. He staved off his own release, watching Carol as she peaked and groaned. Her eyes met his and they both grinned. To Carol’s surprise, Alan reached between them, fingering her clit as he began to move again. His cock sunk forcefully time and again as Carol tried to breathe and keep her sanity. A second wave washed over her as his finger worked her into a frenzy. In a single moment so intense she cried out, Alan drove in to the hilt, prodding against her cervix in such a delicious pain it was euphoric. He let go inside her, his healthy seed bathing Carol internally, forging a new life. In her heart, Carol knew that Alaina had been conceived that night. It was beautiful and frightening at the same time. The intensity of even the memory still had the power to make Carol tremble. She had gone into the woods a vibrant young woman, certainly not pregnant. Only a few days later, she had been found wandering,

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half out of her mind and ready to give birth. How could it be? It didn’t make sense. She knew Alan was Alaina’s father. He was the only one she had been with in months. Carol shivered as somewhere in the deep recesses of her mind came sudden flashes of another’s touch, a faceless entity, cold and frightening. Her fear was still deeply embedded. She could lose an hour in a daze when her mind flashed to scenes so macabre, they bordered on insanity… Something green, glowing. Claw-like hands on her body, opening her thighs, pressing her belly button, burrowing. A flaccid cock lying limp but playing host to something not human… A hand working its way from her cunt… not her hand… something cold, reptilian, yet beautiful in the image of a blond Viking lover lying over her. There was insistent pressure as the cock was lifted and guided inside her. The sparkle of a hand resting on her stomach, sealing a wound from her belly button. Then the horror of watching her body being used against her will. The beautiful blond Viking grinned into her face and signaled for her to look down. He had six massive balls all glowing and throbbing with movement. Tiny gelatin-like creatures squirmed eagerly and flowed into the cock. The Viking moved inside Carol, again and again, pumping his eager whelp into her womb… The flashes were always the same. Carol was worried they were growing more constant, like a film being played over and over in her head. After each scenario, she would jerk back to reality, her whole body cold as ice and time forgotten. She sought treatment. She took tranquilizers to keep her bizarre thoughts at bay. At night she wanted to down a sleeping pill, but what if Alaina needed her or cried out in her sleep? Thankfully, only Alan invaded her dreams, holding her as she slept fitfully, caressing her into wanting him so badly she cried out for his touch. For better or worse, her odd seduction by the Viking creature was confined to waking moments. The tranquilizers dulled her brain and kept the flashes at bay. Even as Carol tried to recall what had happened in the forest, she dreaded what she would find hidden deep. So she popped the pills and made believe everything was as it should be. She had

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a beautiful healthy daughter by a man who had disappeared into thin air. Men deserted women all the time, why should she be any different? Except, other women from the camp had disappeared along with Alan and some others had been found in the same bemused pregnant state as Carol. Authorities had been called; even the FBI had investigated. It was an open investigation with theories ranging from cult involvement to alien abduction being tossed around. The babies born from these women were analyzed and tests run. All were normal, healthy children from a medical standpoint. All were precocious to the point of borderline genius and were still being studied. Except Alaina. Carol had refused to let her daughter be subjected to numerous scientists’ questions and invasive tests. Whatever her memories were, they had no bearing on her daughter. Carol knew Alaina was Alan’s daughter. It was so because she couldn’t believe anything else and still hold onto her sanity. Gentak, the company sponsoring the summer camp fiasco, settled with the women out of court. They sent Carol a check that should have set her up for life, then promptly declared Chapter 11 protection. The appeal was pending and Carol tried to tell herself everything was all right. Her memory loss and flashbacks weren’t important. Alaina was what was important. Nothing else mattered. She jolted herself back to the present, scared she had once again zonked out, her mind wrapping around impossible thoughts. She pushed them away and sought the consoling sight of Alaina still intent on her etchings in the sandbox. Carol half-ran outside to be with her daughter. She swooped Alaina up in her arms and kissed her cheek. “That’s my girl. Ready for lunch?” “Mommy, be careful! You’ll ruin the door.” Carol looked down at the fanciful drawings etched into the sand. Alaina had smoothed the grains into a flat surface, traced elaborate shapes and symbols, as foreign to Carol as Greek, clearly into the sand. “Where did you learn to make those shapes?” Alaina smiled, childlike and sweet. “I just knew. Do you like them?”

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“They’re very pretty.” Carol was careful to keep her voice level and full of praise. Deep inside she fretted. The shapes were nothing Alaina could have seen anywhere. They reminded Carol of the hieroglyphics on a National Geographic special on the Ancient Mayans. Disembodied faces mixed with backward letters and a half-moon upside down. Eyes without faces, floating. A two-legged alligator walking upright, in its jaws the head of a woman smiling. Her daughter had a vivid imagination, that was all. It was all right, nothing to worry about. Carol wanted Alaina out of the sandbox and cradled in her arms, safe and secure. She didn’t want her own mental problems affecting her daughter, but she longed to sit quietly in bed, her child snuggled next to her, like any mother and daughter on a summer afternoon, catnapping. “How about fish sticks for lunch? They’re your favorite.” Carol smelled the freshness of her daughter’s hair. Blonde like her mother’s and Alan’s. Alaina’s skin tone was a mystery. Dark, almost tawny, it glowed with youthful radiance. Alaina rolled her eyes. “That was last week. Now I love chicken nuggets. With catsup… lots of catsup.” Carol laughed. It was easy to see at these moments that Alaina was like any other child. Happy, healthy and full of exuberance for life. “Your wish is my command, princess. Let’s get cleaned up and see about those nuggets.” “Okay. Let me finish the door. Just in case.” Alaina wriggled out of Carol’s arms and plopped back down in the sandbox. “Just in case?” Carol wanted to connect with her daughter’s imagination. Alaina smiled sweetly, her blue eyes so bright they twinkled like twin sapphires. “In case Daddy wants to come home.”

Chapter Two Carol stood still, her mouth hanging open, not sure she’d heard correctly. She had never told Alaina anything about Alan, other than he had gone away before she was born. Obviously, Alaina’s imagination had conjured up some way to deal with her father’s absence, even giving him an outlet to return. Should she try to explain that her father wasn’t coming back, or should she let her have her dream? After all, she was so young. She watched as her daughter drew a strange bird at the very edge of her imaginary door, her tongue licking the corner of her small mouth in concentration. It looked something akin to a prehistoric roc. “I’ll get your shoes, honey. Then we’ll see about those chicken nuggets.” Carol started back to the house, turning as Alaina giggled, made a fist and knocked on the sand doorway. The sound was as hollow as a real door. Carol shivered, suddenly aware the hair on her neck was standing on end. Her mother’s instincts signaled a warning, but it was too late. In the next moment, she heard Alaina scream, saw the bottom drop out of the sandbox and raced for her child. The compact backyard had never seemed so large as Carol jumped onto the railroad ties that reinforced the borders of the box and scrambled around on her knees. Alaina had all but disappeared into a black hole. Her small fingers clung tenaciously to a chink in the side of her “door.” The oblong square looked as if it had just been cut out of the ground. Then there was nothingness. “Mommy!” Alaina squeaked. Kneeling, Carol grabbed her daughter’s wrist and yanked her up with a ferocious strength that belied her stature. She hugged Alaina close as the little girl trembled. Over the small shivering shoulders, Carol looked down into the black hole.

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There was nothing, no bottom to be seen, and except for the edges of the “door,” no sides. It couldn’t be, yet she knew something was happening and it involved her most precious possession, her daughter. A blast of hot air blew from the earth and Carol wasted no time hoisting Alaina up and running into the house.

*** Carol packed hastily, throwing clothes and toys in plastic bags and the few suitcases she owned. Where could they go? Away from that bizarre gaping wound in the earth, that was all she could think about. She had no family, no one to stay with. Her settlement from Gentak had bought the house and let her survive, but just barely. When she was feeling better Carol intended to get a job, but some warning always popped into her mind, not to leave Alaina. She never did. Not to go anywhere unaccompanied by her flesh and blood. Even a babysitter was out of the question. It was as if she were her daughter’s keeper in more ways than one. Was it a phobia manifesting from her past experience at the camp? It didn’t matter. Her child’s safety was always uppermost in her mind. There was no one to confide in who would understand. She had no contact with the camp’s other victims. No support group. Even her doctor, who prescribed her medicines for her taut nerves, was no friend. He’d blame it on a psychosis and whisk Alaina into foster care before Carol could even see a lawyer. It was something she knew from experience. Social services checked in on her monthly, it was part of her Gentak agreement. Carol wondered why, but then it came out that a few of the Gentak women from the camp had actually done something to their children. Claiming they were the spawn of demons, some had suffocated or drowned their offspring and eventually taken their own lives, their guilt too much to bear. Of course she would never hurt Alaina, never… But the courts didn’t know that and if she were to even hint at something so bizarre as a black hole trying to swallow her daughter, the future was easy to picture. Stronger meds for Carol and no contact with Alaina.

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She sat heavily on the bed in her room, Alaina napping, sprawled behind her. The earlier fright had faded, leaving the small girl sleepy. She realized they couldn’t just disappear. She had a doctor’s appointment tomorrow and if she didn’t show, the psychiatrist would send out a red flag. The room darkened and Carol wondered how long she had been sitting on the bed. Long enough for the day to be gone and night to take over. Damn! What a time for her to have one of her “zonk out” episodes. She ran a hand through her hair and pulled viciously. She had to think clearly, make decisions. There was no time for a mental breakdown. The sight of her daughter sleeping in the gathering shadows, an angelic smile on her face, calmed her. For Alaina she would do anything. Her ears picked up a slight sound. No more than a squeak, she recognized the tread of a foot on the wooden floor of the living room. The slider to the outside was locked. She knew she had bolted it shut after carrying Alaina away from the threat of the open pit in the backyard. Of course the front door was locked. That left the garage. Could someone have lifted the heavy door, without her being aware, and come through the laundry room? It didn’t matter now. Someone or something was in the house. She tiptoed to the bedroom door. There was no lock to secure the room and she had the eerie feeling it wouldn’t make any difference. She listened, scarcely breathing, afraid she’d miss any sound. There it was again. The stealthy creak of a foot slowly making its way over the old flooring. Darting across the room, Carol grabbed Alaina and rolled her into her arms. The child made a mewing groan in her sleep, but did not wake up. The back patio door from the master bedroom was the only choice and it led into the backyard. She tore open the curtains, unhitched the lock trigger and slammed back the slider. She held Alaina tightly to her, bolting into the darkness. The patio was merely a slab of cement and since Carol didn’t entertain there was no furniture to get in the way.

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She wasted no time heading for the corner of the house and the wooden gate to the street. The moon wasn’t up yet and the walkway wasn’t quite level. In her haste she stubbed her toe on a poorly placed brick, biting back a cry and hobbling on her sandals as she rounded the corner of the house. A pair of arms grabbed her roughly, shoving her against the stucco wall and before she could react, Alaina was pried from her arms. Now Carol didn’t care who heard as she screamed. “Not my daughter! Never!” Without hesitation, she leapt at her attacker, pummeling around Alaina. Then she raised her throbbing foot and delivered a sharp kick to the groin of her assailant, relieved when he collapsed to his knees, head bent in agony, and she was able to scoop Alaina up again and take off. “Carol, stop!” A voice behind her stopped her dead in her tracks. Carol turned slowly. In the shadows she could barely make out his features. “Alan?” “Yeah, Alan… or what’s left of him, after that kick to my balls. Jeez, woman, are you PMS-ing or do you beat the crap out of all visitors?” “I don’t understand…” Carol began, but Alaina stirred in her arms and smiled at Alan. “Daddy!” “Yeah, pumpkin. At last we meet face to face.” Carol felt movement behind her. Another voice penetrated the darkness. “You’ve got her?” Her attention divided, Carol swung around as a dark-skinned figure exited the house. He was massive. No wonder whoever he was had trouble with the floor creaking and giving his presence away. Alaina gasped out a giggle. “Daddy!” She held out her arms to the dark giant. Carol felt faint. “Oh, sweet Jesus. What the hell is going on?”

***

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It must be one of her dreams. It wasn’t real. But as Carol gained her senses and realized she was back in the house, sitting on the couch, Alan kneeling in front of her rubbing her icy hands, things began to come into focus. Across the room, the dark giant sat in a comedic pose, legs crossed, playing patty-cake with Alaina. She laughed with glee and called out, “I knew my daddies would come.” “I don’t understand…” Carol began. “I never told her about you…” she whispered to Alan, “and I certainly don’t know him.” “You don’t have to whisper.” The giant missed Alaina’s palm in the game. “I can hear a pin drop from a block away. But I am hurt you don’t remember our time together, brief though it was.” “Now is not the time, Bronte, and you know it,” Alan chided. “We have to go.” “Go?” Carol looked stricken. “You just got here. I want some answers.” “I’m ready.” Alaina bounced up to her feet and propelled herself onto the giant’s back. “Can this daddy piggyback me?” The deep voice of the dark Bronte laughed. “You barely weigh as much as a twig. I can carry you to Hell and back, little one.” “Bronte,” Alan warned. Carol was on her feet in a flash. “We aren’t going with you.” Alan’s vivid blue gaze locked with her gray irises. “No, you aren’t, but Alaina is.” “What? You aren’t taking my child anywhere. You’re mad or you think I am nuts to let her out of my sight.” She tried to brush by Alan and head toward Alaina. The giant put out a restraining hand. At his touch, Carol’s mind flashed scenes as vivid as a movie… She was in the forest following Alan. They were running, terror in every nerve of her body. Carol felt her stomach roll and looked down at the mass moving in her abdomen. Something was feeding off her, demanding sustenance. She could smell Alan’s hot blood, hear his heart pumping it through his arteries. She longed to taste him, eat him, devour him. She called, “Alan. Wait up. I have to rest.”

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“Carol, we can’t stop now. We have to…” He was staring at her stomach. She knew he could see it writhing with life. The roiling reminded her of her craving. “But, Alan, something is wrong. Come to me. I need you now.” She thought he would turn to run. She was prepared to jump him from behind, the strength in her was absolute power. She must feed her young. The souls had to survive, whatever had to be done. “No, Carol. Not you!” “Alan? You know what’s wrong with me? You know something and never said a word?” “I couldn’t. It was too dangerous. But now…” He came toward her. Carol’s blood turned to fire the closer he got. She reached to touch him, claw him. His shirt tore under her talon-like shredding. His flesh was soft, even though his lean muscles flexed as he bore her to the ground. “Carol, I have to do something. You aren’t going to like it at first, but then you’ll crave it.” But Carol had fastened her teeth to his chest and bit into him. Even as she tasted blood and flesh… Even as Alan flinched, he moved purposefully. Her shorts worked down her hips under his fingers. Her panties tore easily. Carol raised her face, smeared with his blood. “What are you doing? Are you fucking me as I eat you alive?” “It’s called inoculating.” Alan’s voice was raspy. Even at a time like this she could tell he had an erection. Despite her hunger, Carol felt her cunt contract. The things inside her swiveled like fish in a bowl, both excited and restless, whether from the blood or her own temperature steadily rising, she had no idea. Carol’s food hunger subsided and a new fire burned fiercely. She could smell Alan’s sweat, his glands secreting a spicy sweet pheromone that tickled her nose and made her want to lick him. “I want you to fuck me, Alan. Not like before. Not with care and concern for my well-being. I want you to fuck me raw, like an animal.” She ground against him. “Sweet Carol. What have they done to you? Those bastards will pay, I swear it.” Alan’s cock was at her entrance. Its head was swollen with both unspent seed and

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something thick that oozed onto her thigh. Carol could smell it as Alan’s mushroomed head nudged apart her labia. The sweet odor of peppermint, like the Schnapps she’d gotten drunk on for her twenty-first birthday. “Raise your hips and open yourself to me, Carol. I am new at this and my cock too eager. I let it get too big at the head.” “Anything you want. Just fuck me.” Eagerly Carol forced her legs underneath her, raising her thighs in the air and splaying her legs apart. Alan knelt between the offered thighs, his fingers finding the entrance and pulling back moist nether lips. He touched her clit, rubbing it, until the heat was unbearable. She groaned and contracted protesting muscles as her pussy tightened then relaxed in a pulsing gush of liquid. Alan stopped his massage of her clit and held her open as he guided his shaft in as far as it would go. It wedged at the tight ring just inside her cunt. He rubbed the swollen mushroom against the barrier. “It’s almost too late. They are forming the seal to keep the inoculation from happening. Sorry, Carol, but I have to…” He heaved against her, forcing the engorged cock to ride against the barrier. Something in Carol made her try to clamp her thighs shut but Alan was stronger and held steady. “Let it pass, Carol. It’s your only hope. You don’t see it, but deep inside you feel it. It’s your salvation.” Carol wanted to believe him. Whatever possessed her body retreated as her mind and heart joined. Alan was right. This was what she needed. Him, inside her, giving of himself the force that would save her. She relaxed and he slid deep. With a grunt, Alan brought his body flush against hers. He rocked to let her grow accustomed to the feeling, his cock now fitted solid. He pulled back and moved again. Carol groaned as her body contracted against the motion. “You feel so good.” “And you feel like heaven. I may have a job to do, but damn it, let’s make it about us.” He pulled back and thrust forward several times. Carol’s moans grew louder as he hit a spot so tender it hurt in a tantalizingly seductive way. “Do that again,” she breathed. “Right there.” He complied, and as Carol savored the flash of her nerve endings surging endorphins through her body, Alan’s hand pressed her abdomen. The pressure was

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intense as he massaged the mass and coaxed it into a ball. He thrust so hard Carol scooted along the ground, rising up as an orgasm washed over her. Alan pumped, his sweat pouring off him onto her. The air was humid and for a moment Carol closed her eyes. Alan cried out and came, his seed jetting inside her, leaving a warmth that made her sigh. But Alan’s voice was anything but reassuring. “Damn! I am not pure enough. Son of a bitch. You are too far along and I am only half a Guardian. It’s not enough. Oh, God, Carol!” She looked up into Alan’s tear-filled eyes. His words sunk in. She was still carrying something that wasn’t a baby!

Chapter Three Carol looked at Bronte’s hand on her arm and glanced at Alaina clinging to his broad back. Her face contorted in horror. “What is she?” “Shush, woman,” Bronte growled. “Not in front of the child. She is our flesh and blood.” “But I remember…” Carol’s voice drifted uncertainly. “You remember because I wish it to save the costly time of explanations.” Bronte looked to Alan. “You were the first but I had the strength of the Guardians to complete the task. Remember the rest, woman. I demand it.” Carol couldn’t stop the scene in her mind playing on… Alan looking down on her, his cock still inside her, his seed cooling. And the things in her stomach writhed apart, more agitated than ever. From the trees, a huge dark figure watched before approaching without embarrassment. Alan pulled out of her, jumping to his feet, forgetting he was exposed. Bronte never looked twice. He watched Carol, who lay flat, her stomach already beginning to bulge as the spawn grew at an alarming rate. “There isn’t much time.” He spoke to Alan. “You know what I have to do. Either watch or leave, it matters not. I have my orders.” Carol thought he meant to kill her, to rid the world of whatever she carried. “Alan?” “It’s all right, Carol. This is Bronte, a fully bred Guardian. He can inoculate you.” “Don’t be too sure.” Bronte stared hard at Carol again. “She is far past when I should have joined with her. It may be too late. If so, and the Old Ones who have impregnated her and used her as an incubator cannot retrieve their young, they will both die. She cannot give birth to the raw souls, they will eat her alive.”

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“Damn it, Bronte. Do you think I don’t know that?” Alan’s anguish was in his voice. “Just do it before any more time passes.” “You love her, don’t you?” Bronte did not speak with scorn. “I loved once, centuries ago. I know the feelings. It won’t be easy for you to watch another man with your woman. If you stay, you must be prepared for the pain and pleasure I can afford her… Or the agony if it doesn’t work.” Alan sank beside Carol. She was aware of how naked she was, lying exposed to the gaze of two men. “Hold me, Alan. I’m afraid.” He moved to her head and cradled it in his lap, smoothing her brow. Carol tried not to look at her stomach. Instead she looked to Bronte. The dark-skinned giant had shed his cloak and peeled off a shirt that looked to be made of shimmery material. His muscles bulged even from such a small effort. His pants were as a second skin, clinging to enormous thighs that were almost as big around as her waist. Her waist when she wasn’t carrying some mutant implanted spawn, she reminded herself. “Hurry.” She breathed deeply. “I can feel them changing.” “Easy, lass.” Bronte’s dark hair fell in waves to his shoulders. His disrobing had dislodged the tie that held it back. His pants fell to the ground. Carol’s eyes grew wide as she took in the sight of his huge cock. There was no way he could get that thing inside her. “Alan, I can’t…” “You can. You have to.” Alan’s tears fell on her face. “Do you have to flaunt it, Bronte? She’s scared enough already.” “Normally I would just adjust the size to fit. We Guardians have the gift of shaping our phalli to fit the need of inoculation. But she is advanced in her pregnancy. This is the size required to bind the souls. Each must be inoculated separately at this stage then joined into one. Prepare yourself, lass.” He knelt over her. “She will need to be excited, Alan, to lubricate the passage. It will be easier if you cannot tell which touch makes her writhe with pleasure. You would do well to believe it is yours. Take off her shirt and touch her breasts. Do it, Alan. Or do you want your woman to die rather than lie with another?”

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“Fuck you, Bronte.” Alan’s eyes blazed with fury as he tore at Carol’s shirt. He almost left her face covered as the material was jerked over her head. Carol knew he hated to let Bronte be her lover, whatever the circumstances. That he sure as hell didn’t want the dark man’s face to be the one she remembered heaving on top of her, bringing her body to complete surrender over and over. “That’s the spirit, Alan. Hold her as I make her ready. Caress her yourself to take your mind off our coupling.” Alan held Carol by the shoulder as his other hand wandered to her breasts. They were full, her body giving the signals of impending motherhood. The tips were engorged, reddened and begging for suckling. He massaged around the fullness, cupping gently, then harder as Bronte moved forward. Carol felt her breasts being stroked; they were tight feeling and hard, not like her usual soft contours. Below, she watched as Bronte rubbed her belly. He pressed lightly then harder, his face intent on the squiggly lines that kept appearing and disappearing as something moved within. “There are five souls waiting to be born. I cannot tell their natures. Either way, they will feast on you if they are left apart to be birthed separately. You must want me, lass, or I cannot forge them together. Normally, it would be easy and you would crave my touch, but Alan has desensitized you to all but him. It is the Guardian blood in him. It is potent but not strong enough for this task.” Large fingers felt between her legs, brushing through her musky curls until they found her cunt. He slid a finger against her clit, teasing it. Carol felt a twinge but nothing more. A finger worked itself inside her, crooking softly against the passageway and simulated fucking. Carol tried to ride the motion, but it was awkward and her body refused to respond. “It’s no use. The lass’s body must think I am you to respond.” Bronte grimaced. “Have you ever fucked a man, Alan?” “What?” Alan looked startled as if waking from a daze. “Entered a man’s bunghole. It’s not unusual in centuries past and present, but you are a relatively newcomer to this culture.”

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“No, I…” “You are about to learn. I must take a part of you into my body, to convince the lass’s body we are one and the same. It is the only way. Trust me on this. Get up and come behind me.” Numbly, Alan rose, gently laying Carol’s head down. She craned it upward, watching as Alan walked behind the big man. “Kneel behind me. Take your cock and make it hard. Then enter my ass and hold perfectly still until I tell you.” Unable to help herself, she watched as Alan moved up close on the big man. Alan’s cock was already hardening, obviously excited by the prospect. But her own attention was diverted as Bronte rose over her. “Easy, lass. You will accept me as your man, one way or the other. Enter me now, Alan.” Alan knelt behind the big man’s back. One hand guided his cock, still wet with Carol’s juices and his own, while the other braced against Bronte’s back. Carol felt the big man flinch as Alan pressed against his puckered hole. With a grunt, Alan slid inside. Then he moved back and thrust again. Both men groaned. Bronte rasped, “I told you not to move, you bastard. If I come now it will all be for naught, except my own pleasure. Now hold still and don’t move. Keep your cock deep inside me. That’s it, steady, Alan.” Sweat beaded Bronte’s brow as he tried to concentrate on the task before him and not the sensation of his own body. Carol could feel him tremble with the effort. A large hand reached to cup her full breast, not as gentle as Alan’s had been. This touch was purposefully kneading, pulling the nipple. Carol felt her stomach ripple, this time with pleasure as taut nerves responded. Powerful lips took in a swollen nipple and sucked deeply. From somewhere, an electric current surged within Carol and her milk came in, filling her breasts and allowing Bronte to suckle. Her cunt responded with a gush of liquid as she felt the huge cock prod against her opening. Without warning, the head parted her labia and disappeared inside. It felt like she was being split apart as Bronte

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moved, pulling back, then forging deeper with every stroke. The sound of her juices soaking the huge phallus, aiding its passage, could clearly be heard as it worked its way deeper. “Easy, lass. I am almost there. Ride with me.” Carol groaned as the cock hit her cervix. Alan must have moved within Bronte as the big man gasped. “No, Alan. Restrain yourself.” “God, Bronte. This is madness.” Even Alan’s voice shook. “I want to fuck you so bad it hurts.” “And I want it as well. But it must be as one we penetrate the lass. There, I can feel her womb.” Carol cried out as he hit her swollen cervix and prodded. He pulled back then thrust repeatedly. She locked her legs around Bronte as best she could. She felt Alan’s breath on her legs, then her feet. Her shoes were gone, somehow lost in their race through the woods. His lips kissed her toes, sucking on them gently. Carol again cried out, her body jerking in spasms. She came loudly, her orgasm as violent as Bronte’s coupling. She knew what it was that drove the big man to be so rough. With every surge into her, Alan’s cock was pistoning in his ass, teasing the dark man, daring him to let go of his emotions. A large hand pressed Carol’s stomach. A thrust coincided with extreme pressure as the big man bore down on her abdomen. Something was forced to the middle and held there. “Now, Alan,” Bronte ordered roughly. “Move inside me as you crave.” Alan grabbed the dark man’s shoulders and thrust his pelvis over and over. The men’s cries were near sobs as they jerked against each other. Carol watched Bronte’s face contort in pleasure as Alan’s balls slapped against his ass. She felt the cock inside her growing yet larger. Her womb was stretching, allowing the phallus to enter where it should never have gained admittance. It wedged in place as Bronte groaned in release, shooting a thick stream of both hot cum and an icy compound that chilled Carol to the marrow, then turned her to liquid fire. Her stomach spasmed and twisted, Bronte holding still as he filled her with his essence.

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Carol spiraled into another orgasm as some of the liquid from inside flowed over her clit. The tingling was insistent and she cried out, trying to buck upward. But there was no way to budge the giant on top of her. Alan was silent, still encased inside Bronte’s ass. He slumped forward as he shot his load. All three breathed raggedly until their bodies stilled. Bronte stayed deep inside Carol and ordered loudly, “Alan, do not withdraw. You must continue to pleasure me as I inoculate the lass.” “For God’s sake, Bronte. I cannot keep this up much longer.” Bronte laughed mirthlessly. “I said there are five souls to forge. We have just completed round one.”

Chapter Four Staring at Bronte, Carol’s mind whirled with stark memories as she relived the multiple couplings in the forest four years ago. One after the other, she had been filled and flooded with sperm and the thick liquid that turned the five spawn into one embryo. And even as they writhed in pleasure, her future was forged along with the child she left the woods carrying. A child that shared two fathers’ DNA and her own as well as souls being rebirthed. She jerked from Bronte’s grasp. Bronte spoke quietly. “Now you see the folly of us leaving the child with you any longer.” Alaina, sensing something big was being discussed, froze, her arms wound around one of her fathers’ necks. “I made the door for you to come get me,” she spoke proudly. “How did you know to draw the door?” Carol tried valiantly to grasp the concept of her daughter being partly another race. Maybe even a mix of species. “Daddy told me.” Carol was confused. “We are telepathically linked. It’s part of being related,” Alan explained. “Often I came to Alaina in her thoughts. I tried you too as we share a physical bond, but you weren’t responsive, even in sleep.” She remembered all the nights of dreaming of Alan, his touch, his scent. She had craved him and he had fed that desire. But she wouldn’t tell him of her constant yearning. He was the man who had come to take her daughter away, after all. “You left me four years ago to bring a child into the world with no memories of how it happened? Do you know the hell you have put me through?” She wanted to strike out, hurt Alan as he had hurt her.

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“I’m sorry, but it couldn’t be helped. I had to go with the others. We had a job to do.” “We still do.” Bronte rose, keeping Alaina in his arms. “You can’t take my daughter. You can’t leave just like that. She’s mine.” “Ours.” Alan nodded toward Bronte. “No. I raised her. If she leaves, I have nothing. They will say I did something to her and they will put me away. How does one explain the spawn of hell and forging souls into a child? You can’t expect me to let you take her. She’s all I have.” Carol tried not to panic. She needed her meds to calm her so she could think clearly. Her purse was on the coffee table, her meds inside. She scrambled for the leather satchel, her hands trembling. Alan snatched the bag from her hand and emptied the contents on the sofa. The numerous vials spilled out. “What the hell have they done to you?” “Thanks to you, I’m halfway to the loony bin.” Carol opened a vial and poured two capsules into her palm. “Gentak pays for my shrink and the meds.” “Gentak?” Alan reached over and slapped Carol’s palm, sending the capsules flying. “Those bastards. They want to keep you drugged so you won’t think about what they did.” “Did? I simply went to a survival camp sponsored by them. Everything else was just icing on the fucking bizarre cake.” Alan opened his mouth then seemed to think better of it. “There isn’t time for this. She’s right, Bronte, we can’t just take the child. There will be an investigation and further danger. We’ll have to take them both.” Bronte shrugged. “Gauron won’t like it. His orders were to bring the child only.” “I’ll deal with Gauron,” Alan spoke decisively. “You bet your ass you will.” Bronte twirled Alaina in the air. “Love either makes you incredibly brave or unbelievably stupid, Alan.” “Shut up,” Alan growled.

***

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The men insisted there wasn’t time or need to take anything other than what the child and Carol had on. Even then, they grumbled it was taking too long. Carol ignored the comments and tried to keep Alaina by her side, but the little girl was too excited by her newfound fathers and wanted to hold either Alan’s or Bronte’s hand. Carol would prefer Alan’s, as Bronte looked able to crush the small girl with a wrong step. But Alaina was oblivious to the size difference and skipped around the big man. To Carol’s amazement they ignored the garage and her car, instead heading into the backyard. “Where are we going?” “If you are coming, you must obey,” Bronte answered gruffly. “Easy on her, Bronte, she doesn’t know. Carol, you’ll have to trust us. Do you know how we got here?” “No.” Alaina laughed. “I let them in through the door.” Carol didn’t look at her. “That’s not possible. That’s only a hole, some sort of anomaly in the ground.” They gathered around the sandbox or what used to contain sand. The gaping hole still blew hot air out like a furnace. “It’s called an ionaspheric wormhole,” Alan explained. “It’s where the fabric between worlds has grown thin enough to be ruptured. Once that happens, it requires little more than someone on this side to open the porthole. Alaina was good enough to follow my instructions.” “Telepathically?” Carol almost sneered. “You don’t have to believe it, Carol. You will soon enough experience it firsthand.” Alan grabbed her hand. Bronte had hold of Alaina’s. “Whoa! What are you going to do?” Carol reached for her purse, realizing it wasn’t on her shoulder. “Those pills won’t help you now.” Alan looked her up and down. “You used to be so strong, so independent. What the hell happened to you?” “You did.” Carol tried not to let tears well in her eyes.

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“Yeah, maybe. But I tell you this, everything you know and have been taught is about to change. Now jump.” “Whaa…?” Carol had no time to react as Alan pulled her forward. His heavier weight dragged her over the edge of the hole. Behind her, Alaina giggled and Bronte ordered, “Hold on, little one.” There was a sense of nothingness, no weight, just hot air blasting in her ears, stinging her eyes. Carol kicked her feet as she free fell, Alan’s grip like iron on her wrist. “Close your eyes,” Alan ordered. “The atmospheric change can cause temporary blindness.” Carol was transfixed on the darkness rushing past. “Alaina?” “I’ve got her.” Bronte’s voice came out of nowhere. “She is fine. Her eyes are covered by my hand.” Alan jerked her to him, pinning her face against his chest. “Jeez, Carol, you have to learn to do as I say. This world is not your own. It’s dangerous and can get you killed by things you’ve never imagined.” Carol could smell Alan’s scent. His chest was a security blanket to the loneliness of the last four years. She pressed against him, with the feeling they were falling faster than before. Alan’s hand wrapped around the back of her head. “I missed you,” he whispered in her ear, nipping the lobe. Carol felt him pressed tight to her. His erection was as apparent in the dark as the tightening of her nipples. “Oh, Alan. Where have you been? Where are we going?” His voice came low in her ear, his breath cool in the wake of the furnace-like air. “Hell, my love. We are going straight to Hell.”

*** Everything spun giddily. Carol opened her eyes and raised her head, but couldn’t see a thing. She was floating slowly, no longer falling. Her feet touched something spongy and she landed softly. Alaina called out, “Wheee! This is fun. Look at all the pretty colors.”

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Carol looked around into a void of blackness. “I can’t see! Why can’t I see?” Alan’s hand tightened around her wrist. “It’s all right. I’ve got you.” “It must be her human blood. Alaina’s eyes weren’t affected, thank Gauron.” Bronte’s tone left no doubt how much more important he thought Alaina’s well-being than Carol’s. Alan yelled too close to Carol’s ear and she flinched. “Don’t thank Gauron like he’s a god. He’s not and he never will be.” “He’s the closest thing we have to one down here,” Bronte reminded him. “And he does decree life or death in purgatory, or the Seven Lands of Despair and Delight.” For a moment, Carol forgot her blindness. “What madness is he talking about?” Alan’s fingers sought her eyes, massaging gently. “It’s hard to explain. There are several lands in Hell. Depending on your sins, you may be sentenced to a lesser evil or eternal damnation. Or even given absolution if you are deemed not truly a threat. It’s not Heaven, but we try to provide a fair trial to decide eternity here or rebirth on earth to learn from past mistakes. It’s a hard life to redemption but over time some do achieve it.” “And some poor bastards just keep making the same mistakes over and over.” Bronte chuckled, the deep timbre of his voice closer. “But it’s the way of things and has been for centuries, unless the Old Ones succeed.” “The Old Ones?” Carol tilted her head away from Alan’s fingers. “Aye. They believe the earth was created for evil. Their form of it. It’s a land they want for their own and they’ll conquer it by using your human women for their incubators. It was always a long shot they would succeed as they are followers and lack a solid plan. But now that Iceni has charmed them to serve her and developed a master plan, it’s a distinct possibility.” “That can’t be allowed,” Alan spoke forcefully. “Even if we have to seal them in Comadic Chambers, they cannot be allowed to conquer above.” “It’s the war we wage as Guardians.” Bronte’s breath was on Carol’s neck.

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“Do you remember Iceni the witch, Carol?” Alan was a mere voice in her other ear. He began stroking her eyes again. “You knew her as Chesney.” “Of course she doesn’t,” Bronte growled. “You know full well her memory was erased with the other women’s back in that forest. Leave off trying to heal her eyes, Alan. You do not have that much power.” Carol felt the larger hands of Bronte on her brow. His thumbs sought her eyes and she closed them hastily. His touch was a shock of heat in the humid atmosphere. Instantly, her mind flashed pictures… Large blond Viking men shedding skin like reptiles, turning into creatures so repellent she shivered. She remembered Alan making love to her one minute then shifting into a creature with six glowing balls full of writhing spawn. Her body refused to obey her and she lay helpless as a hand circled her belly button then pressed into her stomach. To her horror, the hand tunneled downward and appeared from her cunt. A huge limp cock was dragged inside her body. The hand retreated up her cunt and pulled from her stomach. A sparkling flash healed the wound, but the real horror was just beginning. The cock within her began to move, sluggish at first. She saw the glow as the six balls began to expel their cargo into the phallus. It pulsed with life and began to move in earnest. Carol felt a finger on her clit massaging insistently. She tried to resist the impulse to orgasm, but it was too much and with a scream, she climaxed. At the same time, the cock within her quaked and spurted, depositing spawning souls into her womb, one after the other. The pictures came faster. Chesney, the odd little woman, throwing off her disguise and becoming the witch, Iceni, leading the reptilian Old Ones against the dark Guardians… It was all too much to take in and she sagged to her knees. “You bastard, Bronte! You opened her mind. It was too much for her all at once. Damn you! Rest, Carol. Just sit a moment. It’s okay. I won’t let anyone hurt you.” Alan touched her wrist, sliding his fingers over it. His mind locked with Carol’s. He sent her

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pictures of his hands on her body, caressing, moving over her breasts, his tongue laving them into hardened peaks. He let her lead by instinct, her hands moving over his bulge and freeing it from tight trousers. In her mind, Carol felt the head of his cock moistened with pre-cum. She licked it, taking her time slowly taking it into her mouth, sucking it gently. She bobbed over it, hearing Alan’s breath increase. What about Alaina, can she read our thoughts? No, I’ve locked her out as well as Bronte. Only you can hear my thoughts. All those nights, I came to you, you knew… I thought it was a vivid dream. Alan’s cock was in her mind as she sucked it down the back of her throat, pressing her larynx around it. Alan gasped and Carol’s palm tingled where she massaged his balls, heavy with unspent seed. I’m going to come. Alan’s voice was raspy, filled with urgency. In my mind or in real life? Both. Carol heard a sigh, felt salty liquid slide down her throat. She swallowed thirstily, all the while sucking him dry. Alan fell to his knees beside her. They were alone. Bronte appeared from around a sharp corner rimmed with bright red stalactites. “You two done?” Carol looked uneasy. “You said he couldn’t read our minds.” “I can’t when I’m blocked, but that goofy look on your faces left little to the imagination. A mind fuck is always best done discreetly and you two were like two octuputai in a bare meadow. Hard to miss.” “Where’s Alaina?” Carol started. “She’s behind me in this cave we found. Relax, she’s safe. It’s a dead end. You can see again?” Carol looked embarrassed. “It came back with the memories. Your touch…” Alan preened. “I did heal you.”

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“No, it was Bronte.” Alan growled as Bronte chuckled. “Mind fuck all you want, but I have the full blood of the Guardian. You can’t beat that, Alan.” Carol crushed his male ego. “But I can make out only fuzzy shapes and colors. Nothing clearly.” “I’ll have another try.” Bronte advanced. Alan placed himself in front of Carol. “No, you won’t. You’ll give her another mind-bend. Back off, Bronte. I’ll leave it to Gauron.” “Aye. And there will be the devil to pay for bringing her here in the first place. Alaina, lassie, come back in here.” Bronte waited as Alaina came into the chamber. “Daddies, the cave was so pretty. All the colors of the rainbow and they changed when I said a color.” “She has a strong power,” Bronte stated. “She must be guided to use it wisely.” He placed Alaina’s hand in Carol’s. “There, little one. Stay with your mother. I must lead the way from here.” Patting Alaina’s hand, Carol then concentrated sending her thoughts to Alan. Why does Bronte lead alone? Are we in danger? There are some elements down here that cannot be explained. If we run into trouble, you’ll know it, Alan shot back, watching Bronte lead off. They seemed to be in some sort of labyrinth of tunnels. Carol could see the phosphorescent walls shimmer in her impaired vision. “What’s an octuputai?” she asked as Alaina guided her after Bronte. “What?” Alan sounded unsure if he’d heard right. “Bronte said we were like two octuputai in a bare field, hard to miss.” From out front Bronte hooted with laughter. Carol had forgotten his sensitive hearing. Alan took his position last in the group. “They are creatures with eight uh, members or eight female parts.” It was obvious Alan hoped Alaina wouldn’t catch the gist. He sent a message to Carol. When they are in heat, a pack of females corner a male and

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take turns fucking him until each of their holes closes, full of sperm and each womb is fertilized. When the male is depleted, the females devour him, turning him inside out. Ewww. Carol grimaced. “Tell her the rest,” Bronte called back. “Are you letting him read your mind?” Carol whispered. “It doesn’t matter. He knows the perils of an octuputai.” “Tell her the rest or I will.” Bronte turned a corner and was out of sight for a moment. “It may save her life.” If an octuputai is in heat, it will mate with any creature it can find. Both females and males are insatiable until all their orifices or cocks have been satisfied. A man cornered by a female will have to kill it or mate with it, over and over. And a woman caught by a male of the species will be fucked continuously by eight cocks. It’s not pretty, especially when the male’s redtipped, bulbous cock is used. The barbed end fastens inside a female delivering shocks that are meant to stimulate her. For a human, it would be deadly. Sweet Jesus! Carol stumbled, nearly causing Alaina to fall. Sounds like an urban legend of bullshit. Do you think I am stupid? Al…” Carol screamed as something wrapped around her ankle and yanked her into a side tunnel.

Chapter Five Carol could make out murky shapes as she was dragged on her back up an incline. The ground under her was spongy and didn’t hurt or dig into her skin. Her hair was tangled, but other than that, it was as if she were being pulled through water. A sickening sweet smell filled the air, like overly ripe fruit. She saw light then peered at whatever had a hold of her ankle. Hazy though her vision was, she could make out a weird shape. Milky white, it slithered rather than crawled. Multiple tentacles pushed along at a speed that gave the impression of floating. The soft spongy ground changed to red dirt. Not the red clay Carol had once seen on a cross-country trek through Oklahoma, but a fiery red that coated her back and torso as she flopped about, her shirt bunching up and leaving her skin exposed. Carol was pretty certain the freaky legend of the octuputai was about to become her reality. It was almost as if she’d cursed herself by mentioning it. She kicked at the tentacle wrapped around her ankle. The tentacle raised slightly, suction cups tightened and numbness crept up her leg. “Let go, you slimy octopod!” To her surprise it did just that, dropping her leg and turning about, approaching so close, she could make out the features. To Carol’s horror she saw the thing had a human face, young enough to be a boy. “Hi,” he called to her, his voice holding a vibrating tremor. “I’m Toadell. What’s your name?” “Ca… Carol.” She could not look away and yet the thing was a pitiful sight. “Oh. You are not the one. Mother will be angry.” Carol looked around at a clearing of some sort. Rocks towered on three sides, huge monoliths with scrolls painted on them. As she stared, the stones shivered and

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eyes opened on each smooth surface. They regarded her solemnly. “She is not the one. Too old,” one megalith groaned. “Toadell, your mother will not be pleased.” The rock on the east side yawned, showing huge sharpened teeth. “I know. I saw the one and reached for her but I must have gotten confused. I have eight arms you know.” “And we have none. Don’t get smart with us, boy. We are older than even the Old Ones. We can crush you into a bonecake in an instant.” “Sorry,” Toadell mumbled, then cocked his milky white head. “They’re coming!” He darted back into the cave from where he’d dragged Carol. Somewhere behind the rocks, brush crackled and a hissing filled the air. Carol tried to get to her feet but her left leg was numb, as if it didn’t exist. The rocks parted by leaning to the side. A group of tall lizard-like creatures filed in, filling the clearing. One crossed to where Carol lay. His tongue snaked out, smelling her. “She is not the one.” His tongue flickered over her legs, then up. It was like an arm as it slithered up her shorts and felt under her panties. To Carol’s horror it probed her pussy and pressed inside, wiggling back and forth. It licked against her walls then retreated. “Worse, she has been inoculated. She cannot carry our young. She is of no use to us. Kill her.” “Wait!” Another lizard strode forward. “I know her. She was my chosen one. I implanted the souls that were forged by the Guardians. I have a claim to her.” Carol shrank against the ground, her mind further remembering the glowing cock inside her writhing, shedding spawn into her womb. How was it possible sweet Alaina could have been born from the combination of these creatures and Alan combined with herself and Bronte? The reptile standing before her hissed. “Do you not remember a past lover? Maybe this will jar your memory.” A shimmery light filtered into her vision. The reptilian Old One changed form. Before her stood a blond Viking, hair long, impressively built. Naked from muscular bare chest to groin. His cock hung limply, six

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balls nestled under it. “Does this guise please you?” He knelt beside her, eyes the color of blazing emeralds, examining her body closely. Her shirt was up around her waist, having bunched up while she was being dragged. The Viking fingered the front lapel and Carol saw he had six fingers. Then to her horror he ripped the shirt open, leaving her bra exposed. “This won’t do at all.” He chuckled. Kneeling low, he grabbed the lace, where it connected the cups, with sharp teeth and bit through. With a twang, the bra split open and Carol’s breasts spilled out. There was an appreciative grumbling from the group clustered around. One brave reptile hissed, “Fight for her, Okre. I too desire a human slave to service me.” Okre rose to his feet. “If you want to fight, I’ll give you or any other Old One the honor of dying at my feet. I stake a claim to this human. My organ knows her and stirs at her scent.” Proudly, Okre swung around, his cock displaying half-erect status. Now the Old Ones’ hissing magnified into jealousy. They could not obtain erections during spawning and had to manually insert themselves by tunneling through the abdomen of women and lifting their cocks inside. But Okre was not spawning and his organ wanted to mate for sheer pleasure. It was a rare sight that made all the Old Ones envious. “Now, Printhe, since you have challenged me, I do acknowledge your right, but as you know I am showing the Flag of Obeyance. If I obtain a full erection, I am to be feted and worshipped until my next spawn cycle. It is the creed of the Old Ones and many centuries of phallic worship stand behind my right.” He turned back to Carol. “I want you to excite me. Rise up and present yourself.” Carol cringed. “No.” Okre laughed. “Later I will teach you to obey. For now I will renew my glands from your body.” He stood over her, then lay down covering her, his face over her crotch, his own groin area close to her mouth. His cock acted of its own accord and moved against her lips, pressing hard. Carol locked her jaw, refusing to budge. Her shorts were lowered as well as her panties. Fingers sifted through her tight blonde curls and stroked against her opening. Carol tried to clamp her legs together but

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they refused to budge. With one hand, Okre was stronger than her whole body. He held her thighs apart and blew into her pussy. A hot vapor swirled around, then in a thin line disappeared inside her. Carol felt her hips rise up off the ground, legs splaying apart. Okre dipped his head, his blond hair tickling her thighs as he placed his mouth against her cunt. His tongue uncurled and slid inside, lapping any moisture it could find. She resisted the urge to cry out. Despite her resolve, her body responded. A flood of her juices let loose almost like a dam bursting. Okre drank thirstily, taking all she had. Then he plied his tongue deeper, as his finger slid in and found her clit. He worked it rhythmically, stroking it as he licked, tasting every part of her. Carol climaxed so hard, it took her by surprise and she did cry out. Her lips parted and the cock lying against them slipped inside. She was helpless as it slid past her teeth. She tried to bite down but tiny hairs on the cock acted as barbs and would not allow it. Her throat closed around the member as it secreted a substance that demanded she swallow every few seconds. Okre raised his head, his tongue retreating from her cunt. He closed his eyes in concentration as Carol’s mouth serviced his cock almost violently. Her reflexes were not her own and her body responded to chemicals both primitive and potent. The barbs in the cock had retreated to allow her to apply suction continuously. Starving, she devoured the organ, feeling it pulse and flex. With a cry that was more of a hiss, Okre shot a steady stream of cum down her throat. It was unlike anything Carol had tasted before. Hot peppers could not have simulated the intensity of fire that roared down her throat and through her. Her body felt as though it was melting in segments, the heat devouring limbs and organs one after another. Carol’s hair stood on end. She saw the strands turning white as snow. Her body shook even as Okre climbed off her and stood over her. Her sight cleared as her eyes suffused with color. Then she lay still, staring upward.

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“Rise, concubine,” Okre ordered. Carol climbed to her feet, shrugging off her shirt. Silently, she stood waiting her next order.

Okre grinned broadly. “She received my gift of eternal life gratefully. I think she will be useful to us. And I…” He looked down at his fully extended cock. “I will have total obeyance from the Old Ones until I spawn again. Printhe, come here.” The reptilian Printhe approached, head bowed. “Yes, great Okre.” “Present yourself to me and worship me in the same form I have adopted.” Printhe turned and knelt. The scales on his back parted and disappeared into flesh. His haunches grew smooth and his butt was lean with muscle. Blond hair shimmered down his back and cascaded from his shoulders. “That’s perfect. Lean forward, ass in the air.” Printhe’s large form complied. His ass was exposed as Okre approached. Printhe’s cock hung limp, his six balls glowing green. He had no mate to spawn with and must wait for years if need be to find one. Perhaps he would gain entrance to earth and conquer a woman. It was what every Old One was trained to do. Over and over, until their spawn were the prevalent species. But Okre had another path to follow and all must obey his commands. He had achieved the full erection that was rare and powerful. Look what it had done to the woman. Okre stroked his cock until it was so strong it flexed against his belly. His six balls were filling again, not with the green infant cells of desperate souls, but with power. Power so pure, it coursed through Okre’s veins. He lifted his sacs one at a time as he moved behind Printhe. Placing them on his fellow Old One’s back, he crowed. “These are my legacy to you, Printhe. Your challenge is about to be met.” Okre stepped back allowing his bulging sacs to settle under the cock that was his crowning glory. Grabbing Printhe’s hips, Okre surged forward, burying himself in Printhe’s ass. The Old Ones gathered in a circle, thrusting their hips in time to Okre’s pounding as he gyrated over and over, churning against Printhe, until the other Old One begged. “You know I cannot come, Okre. Finish by Hell’s decree, slake your lust and revenge.”

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Okre laughed loud and brash. “Ah, just wait, old friend. You haven’t taken what I offer.” Okre felt the barbs sprout from his cock, raking against Printhe’s tight anal walls. Printhe screamed in agony, his cry primitive as sudden pleasure overcame his body. The sound of balls slapping against flesh echoed and fueled Okre’s lust. His sacs tingled, their contents feeding into the cock that reamed Printhe. Okre could feel cum surging, filling the phallus to overflowing. With a guttural cry, he began to shoot hot liquid deep inside Printhe. Underneath him, Printhe moaned as the burning began and turned into a raging inferno. The power that was Okre’s claimed Printhe as the cock pumped him full of seed rich in centuries of promises and fate. Okre felt Printhe slump under him and still he pumped, coming again and again. He reached under Printhe, to between his legs, groping for the formerly green sacs. They were frozen solid, their contents in deep suspension. Printhe scarcely moved as Okre plucked the sacs from his body, the amputation clean and cauterized by an icy compound oozing from Printhe’s pores. Okre had filled him until his body secreted Okre’s essence. Carefully, Okre withdrew from Printhe, cradling the six frozen sacs in his hands and arms. He held them up and it was easy to see, suspended in an ice world were six tiny fetuses, perfectly formed. Printhe fell to the ground forgotten. He groaned, “What have you done to me? I am both gelded and unable to change form. I will stay this way for eternity.” Okre scarcely spared him a glance. He did notice Printhe’s hair had changed to snowy white, mirroring the woman’s. “Relax, Printhe, you have served the greater good and will now be my slave alongside the woman. And these…” he cooed to the ice balls, “these have just become our future.”

Chapter Six “What the devil is going on here?” A woman’s voice filled the clearing. Carol became aware of her surroundings, her vision perfect. She was naked and cold, burning with an icy fire that made blood pound in her ears. She scrambled for her shorts and the remnants of her shirt, dressing as best she could. Her hair swung free and Carol noticed it had turned white. What the hell? She stared across at where Printhe was lying half-conscious, his hair also white. Then she spotted Okre, holding his treasures high. What were those things? The woman’s voice came again. “What is she doing here?” The monoliths spoke low and deep as one. “Toadell erred and brought the wrong one. The child got away.” “That son of mine is worse than useless. I swear if you want something done right, you have to do it yourself.” “Yes, Iceni,” the stones answered respectfully. “So why is she still alive?” A face from Carol’s past appeared. It was Chesney from the survival camp. As it turned out, back then she was really leading the camp group into her own web of evil. “Chesney? You look different.” “I should hope so, dear Carol. The mousy Chesney persona did not suit. It’s Iceni.” Iceni ran her hands through long auburn hair, streaked with blonde chunks, twisting the locks into ropes. Her tight black gown molded her ripe body. “Now, why did my son bring you?” “Your son? Toadell is your child?” “I fear so. An unfortunate alliance between an octuputai and myself, thanks to my brother Gauron. I have debts to repay on that score. But I do thank him for a

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delightful lesson in pain versus pleasure. Pity I was fertile. Now where is that boy? Let’s hope he had sense enough to go back for the child.” “Alaina? You can’t have her.” “Oh, but I can and will. She is destined for something you would not understand. You, however, have no destiny and have outlived your usefulness. I assume you have been inoculated?” Okre stepped to Carol’s side. “She has, but I have found a new way. Look, my Queen, they are as pure as if we had implanted them in human wombs. Only they are forged as one already and the Guardians cannot interfere with their intrusive inoculation.” Iceni stared at the frozen orbs. “By Diminity’s virgins, where did they come from?” She stared at Okre, still in his blond form. “You have an erection? How is that possible?” Okre grinned. “I became reacquainted with the woman. She was my spawning mate before. She fueled my erection and allowed me to experience total rebirth. I took her DNA within my own body. Then I transplanted it into Printhe. His sacs hold a totally formed pure genus of what we’ve striven for. They look human, but they are not. Our future on earth is assured once we have implanted these. They cannot be altered like the unforced souls. They are indestructible. See, even the ice will not melt around them, until they are safely implanted.” Iceni held an orb up to better see inside. “They are perfect! We must find a way to deliver them to the clinic. The sooner we find another tear between the worlds, the sooner these darlings can find a birth mother. And her…” She gestured to Carol. “Can you use her again to obtain DNA?” Okre grinned. “Of course, as long as she excites me and I don’t enter spawn estrous. But it won’t matter in the long run. My rebirth transferred to her. I can use her body for all of eternity.” “We must find alternate means as well. I want to speed up the process. And I can not spare too many Old Ones to Printhe’s gelded fate.”

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“Of course, my Queen. But consider this. If we were to obtain a passage back to earth and find the women who have been past spawn mates, my fellow Old Ones can siphon DNA freely. And…” His grin widened. “Printhe was a mere guinea pig. The human male can furnish the sacs to act as wombs. All we have to do is fill them full of spawn through a forbidden encounter with a handsome stranger built like a blond Viking, then fertilize them. It’s as easy as plucking fruit from a tree.” Iceni watched Okre’s erection bob up and down with his laughter. “Take the woman Carol to my special place. I will follow soon.” Okre grabbed Carol and began to drag her toward the monoliths. The huge rocks leaned to allow passage. Carol tried to kick Okre but he merely tossed her into his arms and kept going.

Iceni looked to her army of reptilian Old Ones. “Go find the child. Bring her by whatever means necessary.” She turned to Printhe as he staggered to his feet. “And you, come with me. I have need of your newfound status as slave. Pity your cock is never to rise. But I have other uses for you.” The army filed off in compliance, happy to be away from Printhe. His fate could easily be theirs.

*** Carol was carried across a bridge spanning a chasm that boiled with fog vapors. The sound of crickets was loud, followed by the roar of a wild beast. “Sabertooth,” Okre informed her. “Don’t you want to know why we have them? It was your tar pits. They dissolved the lining between the worlds and some of the animals slipped through.” Carol remained quiet. Her fate was beyond her comprehension. Was she really to be Okre’s slave, her DNA his to take at will? How had he done it? Was it his tongue inside her pussy, swallowing her juices until she was dry? Or was it his cock in her throat, forcing her to milk him over and over? She remembered the volcanic heat that

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had singed her body, turning her hair white. It had to be connected to the fiery intensity, her DNA melted and collected. Dear God, help her out of this madness! Okre called out. “Okre to pass.” A drawbridge was lowered in the fog and the sound of Okre’s heavy tread on wood echoed loudly. Inside, the fog was gone and Carol looked about at a courtyard that bulged with plants and flowers, all in shades of black. Rose petals like black velvet emitted a sweet odor that filtered to her nose. Okre reached out and broke off a flower with spiky thorns and waxy black petals. “Chew this, it will stave off hunger.” Although Carol realized time was of no consequence here, her stomach was beginning to rumble and she refused the offered flower. Okre placed a hand over her nose, smothering her and preventing the air from reaching her. He held it there, waiting patiently. Carol began to kick. Why was he trying to kill her now? Maybe she should just let it go. Breathe out and escape. Alaina’s face swam before her eyes. She must bear whatever for Alaina’s sake. Okre growled down at her. “You can’t grow old. I have done you that favor but you can die. Don’t make this so difficult, woman.” Carol gasped for air, her mouth opening wide. Okre plopped the waxy flower deep in her throat and shook her head back. She gulped to keep from choking. “That’s a girl. I knew you could swallow it. Don’t I know that firsthand?” He laughed as a door swung open and they passed into a room furnished with cushions and nothing more. He tossed Carol onto a huge velvety square padded so well she was high off the ground. “Lean back and rest. You are going to need it.” Something in his tone penetrated her brain. She must obey. Do as he said. Her mind fought the impulse. It had to be the flower petal, some sort of drug. It was as if she wanted to please Okre, have his approval. She opened her eyes and watched him as he poured from a pitcher on the floor. He drank from a goblet and sighed mightily. Then he walked to Carol offering her the intricately carved vessel. “Drink.” She longed to please him and drank deep. The honeyed wine was thick and coated her throat. The wine combined with the drug in the flower petal, her mind

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taking on a hazy glow. Her voice wasn’t her own as she replied, “I am at your command, sire.” Her eyes were level with his thighs as he stood in front of her. His cock was still erect. It seemed to be a continuous state. “Undress and lean back.” Carol shimmied from her torn shirt and kicked off her shorts, reclining on the cushion, her head tilted back at an angle. To her surprise when she looked up it was Alan’s form hovering over her. “See, woman, I can be very accommodating when you obey me. If this is the form that pleases you, then I am Alan.” Okre straddled the cushion and knelt until his cock was at her lips. “Suck me.” Carol looked into Alan’s eyes, so blue they hurt. She reached for the cock before her and rubbed the shaft, guiding it to her mouth. It fit deep in her throat, pulsing with a life of its own. Six balls hung within reach, begging to be fondled. No, they were Alan’s balls, Carol believed. Only two, round and firm and filled with life’s essence. They were her beloved Alan’s sacs that she palmed, one after the other. Their heat began to make her palms sweat and she placed her hands on the smooth hips above her. “That’s it. Close your mouth around me and suck.” The voice was Alan’s and it was his semen she would swallow. She closed her throat around the cock and drew deep. The voice above her turned raspy and gruff. “I’m coming now. Swallow it all.” A rush of salty liquid streamed down her throat in a thickness that made her want to cough. But it was followed by the fire she remembered and her whole body ignited. Sweat poured off her; her breasts became tender with the heat. The cock pulled from her throat and Carol begged, “Alan, feel my breasts. They are on fire for your touch. Do something!” The body above knelt between her legs and hunched over her. Carol’s toes curled as lips laved her nipples until they pruned into hardened nubs, and felt ready to burst. A pull on one taut areola sent a sensory connection to her cunt and liquid released, flowing freely. A finger delved between sopping folds and scooped up a

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sample of her juices. She watched him taste the intimate essence before the fire moved down to her pussy. Restlessly, her head dropped back on the cushion and she spread both legs. Fuck me, Alan. No matter what happens, it’s you I want inside me and I can make it so real you hear me in your mind. I hear you, Carol. Alan? Where are you? Shhh, I am about to make love to you. You have to believe it for both of our sanities’ sake. Yes! I do believe. I feel your cock on my thigh. It’s still erect and I want it deep inside me. Do it, Alan, give me something these creatures can never conceive of. Love, given freely, not demanded or taken. The pressure on Carol’s thigh increased as the figure on top held her open with his hands and placed the engorged mushroom head against her moist folds. The fire that seduced juices into releasing freely touched the tip. Her liquid coated him as he groaned. You feel so good. So hot and wet. The cock slid inside, the head swelling with the heat and intensity of her muscles clenching against it. The tightening signaled she needed coaxing and the rod pulled back and thrust forward. Carol’s hips rose up and hands grasped her smooth flesh, demanding a position that allowed the deepest penetration. Carol tossed her head as she felt the shaft within her nudge her cervix. Please, Alan, give me release. Soak me with your cum while I climax against your fingers. Her clit was thumbed, rubbed back and forth as her body took the cock in a volley of thrusts, both deep and hard and gently insistent at the same time. Screaming as she orgasmed, she yelled Alan’s name. Inside her, hot semen jettisoned deep, bathing the inferno and soothing her tortured soul. She lay, her legs apart, the body on top of her breathing hard. She held his head to her breast. Oh, Alan, no matter what, it’s you that I lay with. You that I take inside my body. I don’t care whatever happens, I love you. “I love you, Carol. Now can we get the hell out of here?” “What?” Carol spoke aloud.

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The head on her breast rose. “You heard me loud and clear.” Carol struggled to rise. “Alan? Is it really you? But… I thought Okre…” “He’s over in the corner. That pitcher packed a wallop on his thick head, but it was enough to knock him out.” “Oh, Alan.” Carol kissed him deeply. “You have no idea what I’ve been through… what…” “That doesn’t matter. What just happened between us is all that matters. Now let’s get out of here and back to Bronte and Alaina.” He pulled Carol up. “Here, take my shirt.” Carol wasted no time in pulling the T-shirt over her head. It covered to her thighs at least. She couldn’t help the tears that ran down her cheeks as she realized she was with Alan again. At the doorway he turned to her, placing his hands on her cheeks and wiping her tears away with his thumbs. He ran his eyes over the whitened hair and stared at her silvery eyes. “Oh, baby. I will never let them hurt you again. I swear it. I want you with me always, forever.” Carol sank into his arms. “I can bear anything with you by my side. Let’s go get our daughter.”

Chapter Seven Alan led the way through the strange castle nestled in the fog. He never hesitated as he guided Carol down a corridor and into a turret. He wound up the stairs and across a battlement. “Alan, wait!” Carol was out of breath. “How do you know your way around here so well?” Alan only slowed speed slightly. “I was raised here. Before Iceni took Chromora for her pleasure palace, it was home to my mother. She was as human as you, Carol. Then the wars came and Iceni temporarily triumphed. My mother is no longer in this realm. Iceni saw to that.” “But where is your father?” “My father has mistresses strewn all over. He’s known as a powerful man. If he wants a woman from Heaven, Hell or in-between he takes her, by seduction or force. I’ve seen him only once and I hope never to lay eyes on him again.” “How did you wind up at the camp?” They paused at the edge of the battlement, Alan looking at her. “The war between Iceni and her brother Gauron has raged for centuries. I am relatively new to the tradition, having been born later. She cannot be conquered completely, but can be halted temporarily as her power ebbs and peaks, depending on the season. Gauron holds her in check down here as all fear and respect him and warn him of his sister’s movements. However, if she breaks out onto earth, Gauron must move swiftly to bring her back here. She’s been punished over and over but has grown to like pain. Gauron would kill her except their father won’t allow it.” “Why not, if she is such a threat to humans?” Alan gave a grim scowl. “Their father enjoys the wars of his children and considers humans and earth a prize for the winner. Humans are mere playthings to

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him. You see, their father is my father and Lucifer doesn’t give a damn about anyone but himself, only swallowing souls to sate his appetite and lust.” Carol stepped back and would have toppled from the high platform if Alan’s hand had not steadied her. “You are saying you are the son of…” “Satan? Call him what you will, I prefer to forget we share blood. Gauron is my half-brother and Iceni my foul half-sister. Lucifer has paid more attention to his heirs than to his bastards. Happily, I count myself in that majority. I serve Gauron where I am needed. The summer we met, I was stationed at the camp.” Carol tried to digest all that he told her. Alan searched her face. “Do you hate me, knowing what I’ve told you, who I am?” “I could never hate you, Alan. I don’t pretend to understand all this but I would give you my soul if you asked for it. You know that, don’t you?” He smiled. “I do. And I would never ask for your soul, but Iceni would take it without remorse, so stay close to me. Now jump.” “Wha…” Carol had no time to finish as Alan plunged over the edge of the castle wall, dragging her with him. They landed on an outcrop of rock leading into a hole in the side of a mountain. The castle was well fortified. Carol’s heart was beating a mile a minute. “If you toss me in one more hole, throw me off any more ramparts… I swear, Alan…” “Sorry, luv. You’re a little hardheaded. No time to explain, easier to just take you with me.” Alan was feeling the sides of a shallow cavern of some sort. “I am not your ball and chain!” Alan grinned. “I would like that, you know. The whole legal marriage, until death of our souls do us part.” “They have that here?” “No. Above. I want to live as a normal family. Forget this madness I was born into.” “But you can’t, Alan. You know that.”

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“Yes, and you realize it too. If you accept me as I am, then you know we will always live on the edge. No matter where we go or what we do, we will always be at Gauron’s beck and call, waging a never-ending war. It’s a hard life.” Carol gulped. She didn’t want to live without Alan. “Where does that leave Alaina? Why does everyone want her?” Alan’s voice rang with pride. “Every thousand years or so a heir is born with the power to rule. Gauron and Iceni are twins. Each has the power. And now… so does Alaina through my blood ties. Iceni wants to corrupt Alaina and assure her evil empire. Gauron wants her raised to rule justly.” “Our little girl?” “Hard to grasp, isn’t it? I can’t even fulfill the duties of a full Guardian and yet I sired the next Queen of the Underworld.” Carol staggered against the cavern wall. Her elbow hit an outcropping of rock. The wall slid open soundlessly. She had no trouble seeing in the darkness. For a moment, she forgot about her daughter’s birthright. “Where are we?” “First plan of a fortress, always have an escape route. It’s quite beautiful in here. You’ll see.” He was staring at her as the wall closed, effectively leaving them in darkness. “What is it? Alan, can you see in the dark?” “Yes, it’s common in the Guardians’ blood. So can you. Your hair and eyes didn’t just change color by Okre’s assault. He’s made you immortal and given you the power of the Old Ones.” “I don’t feel different. He did say something about my mortality, but I didn’t realize it was more than the ramblings of a mad creature. Yes, I can see you clear as day.” “Carol, can you shift form?” “No! Of course not… I mean… I don’t know.” “Try. Think of a creature and concentrate on your body becoming one with it.”

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Carol’s mind grasped the thought of the creature she had heard growl earlier. She pictured a giant sabertooth, golden and fierce. Her legs suddenly crumpled and she landed on her haunches. Her bones began to change and thicken. With a roar, she got to her feet, all four of them, and stretched languidly. “Damn!” Alan breathed. “You are one big pussy.” Carol’s silvery eyes glared and her gasp came out a growl. Within moments she thought of her human form and shifted. She was down on all fours, the shirt Alan had given her covering only her top half. “Now that’s what I call a turn-on.” “You can’t possibly be thinking of sex at a time like this!” “Oh yeah, I can.” He stared at her bare ass, the puffy lips of her pussy just visible. “I’ve thought of you for four years and I have a lot of time to make up for.” He approached her slowly, taking in the view. “Do you want me, Carol?” He rubbed the front of his pants where the bulge left no doubt as to his state of mind. A thrill surged through Carol and her blood boiled, filling every nerve with raw need. “Alan. I want you so bad I can’t even think straight. Whatever happened changed me internally as well as physically. I loved you before but right now I am so hot for you I can’t stand it.” “It’s animal instinct, Carol. What do you want me to do?” he spoke huskily. “Fuck me, Alan. From behind.” Alan shucked his jeans, sinking to his knees. Carol’s eyes elongated until she could see behind her without moving her head more than an inch. This new power she’d been forced to accept did have its advantages. She could see Alan’s erection, stiff and hard, the head of his cock already engorged. Without thought, she automatically bowed her head and stuck her ass in the air. She heard Alan suck in his breath with a rush. One of his hands grabbed her waist, the other, the base of his penis. He stroked it at an angle, letting the blood harden it in place. Carol looked behind her as the big head pressed against the sheath of her

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cunt. It was deliciously tight, but in her supplicant position it went in easily, the friction in her passage causing her to tremble. Alan’s voice came raspy to her ears. “I want to take you rough, but I don’t want to hurt you.” Carol growled, “Do it! Hard. Fill me all the way and don’t stop until I tell you.” Alan slid in deep. He grabbed both her hips and pulled back, slamming forward, scooting Carol an inch across the floor with every thrust. “That’s it, lover. Hard and fast. Give me everything you’ve got.”

Alan found Carol’s aggressive side erotic to the max and bit her shoulder as he surged forward, sinking deep into her cunt then pulling back out again. Her juices began to flow, squelching in the dark, further inciting him. “Diminity’s virgins, Carol. You are so wet I don’t know whether to eat you or fuck you!” “First things first.” Carol groaned as Alan slammed home again. He suddenly stopped, grinding himself against her. “Where is it?” “What?” Carol breathed. “That spot. You said once while we made love, ‘right there.’ I want to know that spot. It’s my power, my right to know how to please you to the limit.” It was obvious Carol wasn’t sure. To give up absolute power was a matter of extreme trust and she had been through so much. Could she give him that right over her body? Alan held his breath, but it took her only a second to make the decision and it was the one he longed to hear. “Alan, rise up and stroke high.” As he complied, churning into her, she cried out. “There! Oh, my God, that feels good.” Alan began thrusting hard, then softly, always hitting in the same area. Carol screamed and sunk down on her elbows, her orgasm weakening her muscles so they trembled under him. Alan groaned with his conquest and humped against her again. His own cry came as a surprise as he climaxed, shooting his creamy essence without warning. His balls rested against her ass, still round and full with unspent seed.

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“Alan, are you okay? Do you want me to suck you until you come again? I can feel it in your body, you’re still uptight.” He pulled out of her and whispered, “Carol, lift up again.” Carol breathed deep, her arms unsteady as she complied. “That’s far enough.” Alan brushed his cock against her backside to reassure her. “Alan, I haven’t…” “Do you want me to stop?” He reached to her puckered hole and circled with his finger. Carol arched her back. “God no.” Alan felt inside gently, then pressed his finger deep. He pulled it back then forward, encouraging Carol to ride the motion. “Do it, Alan. I need more. I want to feel every nerve of my body respond to you again.” His finger pushed into her again then out, developing a rhythm to prepare her for what was to come. He steadied his cock against her hole, coating it liberally with the remnants of their juices. With insistent pressure he pushed inside her, holding still to allow her to adjust to the larger presence in her anus. When Carol groaned, Alan stopped. “No!” Carol cried. “I want it!” Alan spoke softly, his breathing labored. “Your wish is my command.” He stretched her as he entered further, withdrawing and moving forward a little at a time. “There, Carol. I’m in. Now move with me and feel what I feel. Tight. Deliciously tight, gripping me, soothing and yet fiercely private. Do you trust me?”

Carol couldn’t keep the sob from catching in her voice. “With all my heart.” She gasped as he pulled back and forcefully pushed forward. His finger moved to her pussy, feeling inside through their combined juices, and found her clit. He stroked it in rhythm to his shaft servicing her ass. Her body screamed for release. She rode the motions as Alan plunged into her, churning and thrusting. Carol began to pant and then she yelled helplessly, “Alan! I’m coming.” Her legs shook as she spiraled, her cunt contracting over and over as she climaxed. Alan’s cock

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pistoned once more then he groaned with release. Hot semen shot deep inside her and she felt another orgasm surfacing. “Keep rubbing my clit. Don’t stop yet.” Alan complied and Carol screamed as a raw wave crashed through her. Alan spasmed inside her and came again, buried so deep his balls slapped against her ass. He collapsed against her, carefully lowering her to the ground. “Rest, sweet Carol, rest.” He gathered her to him, their breaths shallow and uneven in the darkness.

Chapter Eight It took a few hours of traveling to find Bronte and Alaina. Carol realized Alan and Bronte had a prearranged meeting place so it was simply a matter of catching up to them. She almost felt guilty over the time lost making love when they should have been on the move. However, she wasn’t prepared when the cave opened up to a large meadow where long wheat grasses grew. Around the edges, trees were laden with fruit. “It’s a volcano,” Alan explained. “There are many of them here. And most are dormant. Look at the far edge, see what is nibbling at grass and pulling apples from the low tree branches?” “Zebras?” Carol’s eyes magnified the sight until she could see the striped markings clearly. But something wasn’t quite right. “They have horns!” “Zebcorns. We have quite a few animals you would consider bits and pieces of your earth species here.” When he saw Carol giving him a glance, he smiled. “What? You wanted us to call them Uni-bras?” “Shut up, Romeo. You are lucky to be so good in bed… and out of it, or I’d kick you in the balls again.” “Ouch! I do owe you a payback for that little episode. You may have decreased our chances of having future children.” Carol’s glance left the Zebcorns and lit on Alan. “It’s a possibility I could be pregnant already. Will he or she be normal?” Alan reached for her hand and kissed it. “It won’t have two horns and a tail if that’s what’s worrying you. Relax. I didn’t give you a child.” “How do you know?” “It’s a part of the Guardian blood I inherited. I can control my swimmers to the point that they go where I tell them.”

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“You’re kidding.” Carol felt disappointment well up. Alan watched her face. “You want another child, after all this?” “Your child, yes. At least two or three or a half-dozen. The old-fashioned nine month way.” “I think it can be arranged. You want to start now?” He licked her fingers, drawing them into his mouth and sucking gently. A flare of heat radiated from Carol’s belly. “Alan! Don’t start with me. I can’t resist when you touch me.” “Hmmm. Don’t resist. You taste wonderful.” A yell caught their attention and broke the spell. “Mommy, Daddy! We’re over here.” In a grove of pink-blossomed trees, Alaina jumped up and down trying to reach a tufted branch. Bronte pulled it down easily and snatched the pillowy pink tuft, holding it over Alaina’s head. Alaina jumped for it, laughing as it fluttered into her mouth. Carol and Alan soon reached the grove and Alaina’s pink-stained lips told their own story. “It’s just like cotton candy, Mommy. It grows on trees here. What’s wrong with your hair? It’s white. And your eyes?” “Come on, sweet darlin’, let’s go pick some fruit. It’s better for you.” Alan grabbed Alaina and hugged her. “She’s fine.” Bronte licked pink fluff from his fingers. “Do you think I would let anything happen to her?” He regarded Carol with interest, but made no mention of her appearance or her lack of attire other than Alan’s shirt. Alan shook his head. “Of course not. But you know what lies ahead.” He led the way through a grove of fruit trees, picking some on the way. “Carol, these are like mangos, try one. They’ll satisfy your hunger and thirst.” They ate their fill, leaving the open area behind and entering a dry creek bed surrounded by boulders perched on an incline. “Be very quiet,” Alan cautioned as he picked his way through the sandy trail.

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Alaina was watching the boulders. “I saw one of them move,” she whispered. Bronte cocked his head, listening. “Run!” He scooped up Alaina and took off at a dash. Then Carol heard the rumble. Several boulders quivered and opened sleepy eyes, peering at the group solemnly. Then they let loose from their positions and began to roll down the incline straight for them. Alan grabbed her hand. “You heard the man, run!” Carol almost made it. Something grabbed her sandal and she looked down into the eyes of a huge sand crab, its pincer closed on her flimsy shoe. Alan was running so fast he lost his grip and a huge boulder rolled between them, blocking him from Carol. Carol saw a rock rolling straight at her, large enough to knock her down like a bowling pin. She thought about her new shape-shifting power, but there was no time. A high-pitched voice rang out clearly. “Stop! I order you. Treranguez, weitez, prontico. I command you to obey or I will send furious rain to wash you away with its force.” Carol couldn’t believe her eyes. Hovering above her was Alaina, her small sweet daughter, bathed in a glow of light, her voice not her own, demanding to be obeyed. Rocks skidded to a halt in all directions. Small clouds of dirt rose then settled, and Alaina reached for Carol’s hand. “Come, mother of the child that sustains me. I will take you both to your men.” “Who are you?” Carol scarcely breathed as she was led through the rocks to a clear path. “I am a soul reborn in your daughter. I am the one who holds the key.” “The key?” Carol noticed Alaina’s hand on hers grew warm, then shook. “Mommy?” The little girl’s plaintive voice was confused. “What happened? Where are my daddies?” “It’s all right, darling. There they are, up ahead.” It only took a few moments to reach Bronte and Alan. Bronte had hold of Alan, his grip restraining. One of the big man’s eyes was swelling shut.

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Alan broke from his grip. “Carol, Alaina, thank Diminity’s virgins you’re okay. What the hell happened? One minute you were right behind me, the next you were gone. Alaina disappeared into thin air. And this big ass grabs me and throws me to the ground. The next time you get between me and my family, I’ll do more than punch your eye, Bronte.” Bronte looked at Carol, then Alaina. He tilted Alaina’s face up to his. “She is gone then?” Carol knew what he meant. “Yes. Alaina is herself.” “She’ll be back, and as the child grows she will come more often. It’s written in the journals that restless souls return in the bodies of others. Gauron must be told.” Alan narrowed his eyes. “What are you talking about? Alaina’s power comes from her birthright. She will be schooled how to manage it.” “No.” Bronte shook his head. “Her power is an old soul. Someone who seeks to complete their cycle and be reborn. But she is greedy and wants one of Guardian blood. That is dangerous for she will come again. If the child is weak, she will dominate.” “What will they do to her if they find out she is not born of her powers?” Carol looked at Bronte. He avoided her eyes. “Bronte, you know. What will they do if they find out she does not have her own powers?” “Old souls are not trusted. They are destroyed. Especially someone who holds undiluted powers. They are a threat.” “But she is just a child! Surely Gauron will protect her?” “Too risky. Even Gauron fears old souls that have a mission in rebirth. It will not be allowed to continue.” “They’ll kill her?” “It’s the only way.” “No!” Carol shrieked and Alaina began to cry, scared at her mother’s outburst. “She is our child, Alan. She isn’t a threat.” “Of course not.” Alan looked at Bronte. “You can’t tell Gauron. She is your daughter too.”

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“It is my sworn duty to serve.” Bronte looked at the little girl.

She turned tear-filled eyes to the big man. “Daddy, don’t you like me anymore?”

Bronte looked upward, blinking rapidly. Carol swore she saw unshed tears

clouding his dark eyes. Without a word he swung the little girl up in his arms. “Of course I do. Let’s go.”

*** They stopped to rest by a pool of water. Alan assured Carol it was safe to drink and they sated their thirst. Carol would have liked a bath, but it would have to wait. She might have dozed, Alaina pillowed on her lap, for when she opened her eyes, the men were arguing. “If we go that way, it’s an extra day,” Alan argued.

“But infinitely safer,” Bronte reasoned.

“Afraid to fight, Guardian?”

“Fuck you, Alan. I was born to fight.” Bronte’s brow was dark with anger. “I am

thinking of the child.” “So am I and that’s why we should go the fastest way through the swamps.” Carol hoisted Alaina in her arms, but Bronte swooped the child up and started walking. Soon the smell of sulfur reached her and grew stronger. The path narrowed and pinkish water boiled on both sides, reminding her of Bismuth. Then the trail became a series of logs requiring jumping to each, and skill when one began to roll underfoot. Carol was glad Bronte carried Alaina as, sure-footed, he easily maneuvered over the logs. Alan stayed behind to help her. Ahead, the logs ended and the path traversed a dam of sorts. Carol saw Bronte cross the dam and disappear down a rise. A splash in the distance made her look behind. Something was in the water, churning the liquid into pink foam. It was moving closer. “Alan, what the hell is that?” “Go, Carol. Don’t look, just go as fast as you can. Bronte!” he called loudly. Bronte appeared at a run. He set Alaina down on the dam with orders not to move.

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“They’ve found us.” Alan pointed to the water where fins were now visible. Several of them arced through the water then disappeared underneath. Within seconds the water was calm. “Where’d they go?” “Mommy!” Alaina screamed from the dam. Carol looked and saw a sight that stopped her heart. Several of the reptilian Old Ones were crawling on their bellies up the dam, slithering over the top and crowding around Alaina. “No!” she cried out. “You can’t have her!” Carol and Alan began to scramble toward the dam, but Bronte was already there. From his high-top boots he drew a sheath, pulling out a short sword. With a war cry, he began hacking at scaly creatures, slicing for soft bellies that lacked thick scales. Two Old Ones fell and a third clutched his abdomen, reeling toward the water. He fell in with a splash, the water quickly turning green with blood. Bronte was on a fourth when a sharp pain in his side gave him pause. He looked down to see a reptilian claw buried to the hilt. It was only moments before the poison began to take effect but Bronte valiantly sliced the throat of an Old One before he felt darkness overtake him. He growled and kept fighting in his last moments, a warrior to the end.

Chapter Nine Bronte smelled something awful under his nose. Sneezing, he came awake with a start. He was tied to a rubbery Putacious tree. The cords around his wrists were snug and he pulled mightily. Instantly, the tree took up the slack and the cords tightened to the point of pain. “Son of a bitch!” “Will I do?” Iceni stepped out into the open, the burnt feather she had used to rouse him still in her hand. “My, my, Bronte, you have filled out from what I remember. Sorry about your shirt, but it was soaked with poison. And I wanted you alive, very much alive.” Bronte realized his shirt was missing and his chest was under Iceni’s scrutiny. The wound in his side ached from trying to shed the remnants of poison. “Now let’s see what else has grown since we were teenagers. If I remember, you were a tall skinny thing, but you had a nice long piece between your legs.” She stood between his massive thighs, his ankles securely staked and bound to the tree. “You should know, Iceni. At the time you couldn’t get enough of it.” Bronte flinched as her claw-like nails raked down his chest, leaving deep scratches that began to bleed sluggishly. Iceni grinned. “I was an avid pupil. You were my first lover, Bronte. But you know that. You were my teacher, so patient and gentle. I like it quite rough these days.” She traced the ridge of his cock through his pants, gouging him through the material. “Diminity’s virgins, you are huge!” She tugged at the band of his pants. Quite tiny in stature, she struggled to reach around his brawn and pull them down. “And you still wear no underclothes.” She gasped as his cock sprang free. “It’s magnificent.”

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Bronte looked down at the auburn-headed witch. “It could have been yours exclusively. Remember how it was between us? Betrothed at birth, lovers and best friends. What happened to the girl I loved?” “Love? You speak of that four-letter word to me?” Iceni almost spat the words. “I could never have been a Guardian’s woman. I was meant for greater things. I was born to rule, and you… you were born to serve.” She ran the tips of her fingers over his shaft, tilting it up as she admired its girth. She reached to stroke the base, feeling the wrinkled indentations where it attached, nestled in a thatch of dark wiry pubic hair. She palmed his balls. “These are quite nice… and I have just the use for them… but later. For now I want to taste you, devour that big cock until you beg for mercy.” “Never.” Bronte hated that he was growing erect under her examination. “Give over, Iceni. I am not one of your lust toys to worship you. I am a warrior, I do not beg.” “We’ll see.” Iceni’s diminutive stature did not require her to drop to her knees. Instead she simply raised his cock to her lips, all the while kneading his balls like a restless feline. She ran her tongue over the tip, tracing the indentations of the ridge and dipping to lick the small hole in the center. “Marvelous,” she breathed. “You haven’t been with a woman for a while. Let Iceni give you the release you crave. I have ways to drive a man to madness with desire and lust.” “Not this man. I know you, Iceni. Back in the day when your cunt was still sweet with innocence, you used to lie waiting for me and when I arrived, you sank to the ground without so much as a greeting and opened your legs. You were so hot your juices ran before I even touched you. And when I tasted your sweet pussy, you squirmed against my tongue. I used to suck your clit as you screamed my name in release. You had no control over your body, it was mine to do as I wanted.” “That was a different girl. I am a woman now and no one controls me. It is I who controls others.” She ran her tongue down his shaft, licking a wide swath to the base, then swirled her tongue around it. Bronte couldn’t help the reflexes that caused his organ to harden to full length. Iceni looked uncertain for a moment, pulling back to take a second look. Then she

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opened her mouth as wide as she could and took the tip of his cock inside. She raked her teeth over it a few times, pushing it further in until it bobbed against the roof of her mouth. Her tongue laved against the underside. He groaned deep in his throat, ignoring his hips as they thrust forward of their own volition. His cock felt the wetness of Iceni’s throat closing around him. To his amazement, she swallowed while he was inside her throat. She had no gag reflex! She continued to gulp, pulling down on him until the suction was fierce. To add insult, Iceni grasped his balls and played an arpeggio with her fingernails. Trembling, Bronte was suddenly glad the tree held him tightly. With a cry, he spasmed uncontrollably, releasing his sperm down Iceni’s throat. She feasted on him, fed from him. His life force was her power and she gulped it down. She emptied him, pressing his balls as they voided their contents, assuring she devoured every drop he had to give. And when he was dry, she slid the cock from her throat. She wiped her mouth, her golden eyes glowed softly. “I’ve done it, Bronte. I’ve taken all you can give and there is no more.” She saw her words had not sunk in. “You cannot father children now, Bronte, nor inoculate women. There will be no more of your sperm. It’s an ancient trick I learned. Now, if you want it back, I can consider it. But of course that depends on your compliance and willingness to serve me… in all ways.” Bronte glared. “I will take back what is mine, Iceni. Then I will kill you. I vow to be the one that stills your black heart for eternity.” Despite the lethargy seeping into his siphoned body, rage flooded Bronte. He flexed against his bonds, letting the Putacious tree take up the slack until the cords twanged from pressure. Bronte felt no pain as his bindings cut into his skin. He took a deep breath and pressed his arms forward. The cords snapped and flew in all directions. He tore his ankles free, yanked up his pants, then descended on Iceni. Iceni’s shrill voice echoed loudly. Hissing filled the air and brush rustled from passing forms. Dozens of Old Ones emerged into the open, surrounding Bronte. Bronte wasted no time in snatching Iceni. He placed a large hand on her slight neck and

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warned, “Come any nearer and I’ll snap it without effort. Tell them, Iceni. I mean business.” Iceni merely commanded, “Bring the girl here.” The Old Ones parted rank and a Viking of a man appeared, his hand clamped around Alaina’s arm, forcing her forward. “Printhe,” Iceni ordered. “If Bronte so much as caresses my neck, kill the child.” “My pleasure, my Queen.” Alaina’s eyes were enormous. “Daddy?” Iceni began to laugh. “Daddy? Oh, this is precious. I have your child? You inoculated her mother? Get a good look at her, Bronte. She’s the only child you will ever have after this little stunt.” “Let her go.” Bronte searched for a bargaining chip. “I’ll take the blood oath to serve you as my queen until eternity.” Iceni looked taken aback. “You love the child that much? I had not thought you had it in you, Bronte.” She grinned maliciously. “No, I can’t do that. She is far too valuable for the powers she has inherited. One day she will rule this realm.” Bronte thought to correct her assumption. Alaina had no power of her own. She did play host to an unknown old soul who possessed her. But to share that secret was dangerous. If Iceni couldn’t harness the soul to serve her, she would kill it. He released Iceni, realizing the standoff was futile. Iceni wasted no time putting distance between them. She stood next to Alaina. “No, Bronte, it is apparent you are attached to the child and will always be a nuisance to me. Therefore, your death is in my best interest. Pity. I had hoped to enjoy parts of you for a while longer.” She smirked. “But don’t worry, Alaina here is about to embark on a new life. As future queen, she will need the perfect mate and I have one bred for the task.” “She is only a child.” “Tsk, tsk, Bronte. Remember we were betrothed at birth. No, Hillary’s son is destined for our little princess here.”

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“Hillary?” Bronte sought the connection. “Yes, Gauron and his wife Dimitra are raising this Hillary’s son.” “One of her sons,” Iceni corrected. “Hillary was one of the women at the camp four years ago. She was impregnated and spawned the perfect demon. The whole scene was priceless! Dimitra, always the fighter, thought she was saving the world by taking the baby down here to raise. Little did she realize Hillary was pregnant with twins. It’s only a matter of time before a seam tear allows me to roam earth again. Alaina will go with me and join Hillary and her tiny terror. It’s foolproof now that the girl is in my hands.” “You’ll never get away with it, Iceni.” “Who’s going to stop me?” The sound of a creaking harness enforced a deep voice’s assured tone. “I will.”

Chapter Ten All eyes turned to the mounted army of dark warriors assembled in a pattern meant to act as a net, capturing Iceni’s Old Ones and the witch herself. Iceni swore above the agitated hissing of her followers. “Gauron, you swine!” “Is that the best you can do?” A woman with long black braids and skin the color of mocha inched her horse closer. “If I teach you nothing else, Iceni, let it be how to cuss a blue streak. It’s fucking swine, courtesy of Brooklyn, New York.” Iceni glared. “Dimitra, you haven’t changed. One would think motherhood would have sweetened your mouth.” “Nope. I call a bitch a bitch and you are a fucking bitch. Gauron, I can’t believe this evil whore is your twin. Like a bad case of syphilis, she just keeps coming back.” The dark warrior next to her shook his head in agreement. “My love, you have a way of stating the facts. I think this time a century in the Comadic Chambers will do our scaly friends here some good. I know you hate the cold, sis, but even deep freeze is sure to warm that frigid soul of yours.” “Bastard!” Iceni hissed. “She learns quick.” Dimitra reached over and boldly patted her lover’s thigh. She leaned to whisper in his ear. Gauron looked down to where his pants grew suddenly tight. “Gather them in an electric current noose for traveling. If any of them so much as slither a foot out of line, fry them,” Gauron ordered.

Alan and Carol pushed through the mounted riders. Carol ran straight for Alaina, gathering her close. “Are you okay, baby?” “I’m not a baby anymore. I’m a princess.” Alaina smiled a beautiful grin that dimpled her cheeks. Carol was reminded of the devastating truth but would never put

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Alaina in jeopardy by revealing her true status. She glanced to Bronte. He nodded in agreement. In a matter of moments, electrified nooses were lowered over the Old Ones and Iceni. They would be marched to the chasms where they would be frozen in time. Bronte approached Gauron as they made ready to depart. “My lord, I ask a favor. Iceni has taken something from me that I require back. I ask that I be allowed to deliver her to the chambers after I have regained what she has stolen.” “Of course, Bronte. You must keep her contained in the lasso. It guarantees her cooperation. Even she won’t risk her pretty neck to electrocution.” “It’s not her neck I have need of.” “Then by all means, take her and do with her as you will.” Bronte turned to Iceni. The noose crackled with current circling her throat, keeping her compliant and quiet. “It’s time, Iceni, for you to learn a lesson. I will have my seed back, then I will teach you the difference between pain and pleasure. Lessons that last days and long nights. Let’s go, woman.”

Epilogue Carol sighed as she leaned back against Alan. Their bodies had barely cooled but they were in no hurry. Their home on earth was comfortable, and they could hear Alaina if she needed them in the night through the intercom system that Alan had installed. Carol punched Alan playfully. “What was that nonsense about being able to give me another child at will?” “You think I’d lie about a thing like that?” Alan captured her hand and pinned it to the mattress. “I think your macho Guardian blood got the best of you.” Alan rolled on top of her, his hard contours pressing against her bare curves. “Your hair is very sexy that color.” “Keep talkin’, mister. You’d better like it because hair dye doesn’t seem to penetrate it.” “Speaking of penetration.” Alan slid his cock against her thigh. “You know I don’t lie.” He pressed against her softness, already musky from their earlier lovemaking. He entered her smoothly and rocked gently. “There’s the spot.” Carol raised her hips. Alan knew her body so well he could hit the spot that drove her crazy every time. He moved languidly, teasing her. “Harder, Alan. You know how I like it.” “Shhh.” He prodded against her then drew back. “Alan, don’t you dare tease me! Oh!” Alan drove into her deep and sure. He rotated his hips and hit the sensitive spot over and over. “Lock your legs around me, Carol. Feel my body as one with yours.

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Picture my sperm flooding your womb.” He lifted her hips and plunged forward. As he rode her, he bent to lick her nipple, pulling it into his mouth and sucking strongly. Carol climaxed instantly but Alan reached to touch her stomach. “Right there, Carol. I’m going to plant our child, right there.” He groped between them, his fingers finding her clit and working it in time with his thrusts. She felt a wave welling in her. Her legs locked around him as she screamed in an orgasm that quaked through her body. Alan grunted then caught his breath. With a cry he heaved against her, climaxing as his cum flooded into her. Carol swore she could feel it moving inside her, penetrating her womb. With a sigh, she lowered her legs and placed her hand over Alan’s on her stomach. “I think he’s in there.” “He? How do you know it’s a he?” “Alan, you plant the seed and I’ll do the rest.” Carol laughed as Alan turned her over. “Let’s try that shape-shifter thing we did in the cave again. I really love it when you growl dirty.” They both laughed as he crawled on top of her, whispering in her ear.

*** The smartly dressed woman walked carefully, holding the hand of a small boy and carrying an ice cooler. She entered a tall building and stopped at the reception desk. “Ms. Hillary Bond for Dr. Sinclair.” As they waited, the little boy looked at the receptionist and smiled. His black eyes penetrated hers, locking their gaze until she opened her desk, handing him the candy bar she had been hoarding for herself. Next, she opened her shirt and bared her breasts, continuing her duties as though unaware of her state of undress. The boy chomped his chocolate and watched the receptionist. Hillary looked down dotingly on her son. “Fitz, you naughty beast. I swear you’ll charm the pants off women when you are older.”

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The elevator door opened and a portly man appeared. “Hillary. Young Mr. Fitz!” He noticed the receptionist’s ample breasts. “He is getting quite good at mind control, isn’t he?” “Yes, Doctor,” Hillary agreed, following the doctor into the elevator. “Fitz darling, stay with Dorothy for a minute. Mommy will be right back.” As the elevator closed, Hillary opened the cooler. “They don’t need to be frozen, but it makes it easier to transport. Once you place them in a womb, they thaw and attach themselves, just like any normal fetus.” The doctor reached inside, bringing a round orb into the light. Inside, a perfectly formed baby lay in suspended animation waiting for the stimuli to come to life. “They are beautiful!” the doctor exclaimed. “And so much more effective and safe than our last experiments. I can’t tell you, Hillary, how much I appreciate your tireless efforts in bringing about these miracles. Fitz is the perfect example of what gene manipulation can achieve. Now here is your check with the utmost gratitude from both myself and our sponsor… Gentak.”

The End

Ciarra Sims Ciarra Sims leads a deceptively quiet life in So. Calif. Between work and her dogs, cats, and horses one would think she is quite normal… but we know better. When the writing bug bites, watch out! It’s a sure indication she’s hatching a bizarre horror story or some wacky comedic adventure. One thing you can always count on -whatever her current writing mood, Ciarra never fails to entertain!