Day Star: A Dystopian Romance

by Ella Storm

  Even though I dreaded the answer, I asked, “Why?”

  “Because of the games you create.”

  I frowned and looked up, puzzled. For a fleeting moment, I saw tenderness in his eyes and a trace of pity that he blinked away. It angered me. He had no idea who I was or what I had been through.

  I raised my chin a notch and said in the iciest tone I could muster, “Explain yourself!”

  A flicker of surprise flashed in his eyes. No doubt my change in attitude bewildered him. “Stephen had a lot of influence in the government and the military. When Battlefield Glory came out and took society by surprise, he was curious about all the hype, and wanted to find out why the government encouraged the middle and lower classes to become addicted to the game. Through his personal contacts in the army, he learned that the game transmitted subliminal messages to control the minds of the ninety-nine percent so they would accept their fate in life—”

  “I never—”

  These revelations choked me. That I had inadvertently helped to oppress the people revolted me. All this time, I believed my work brought some happiness because it helped people escape their dismal lives for a few hours. I wanted to lash out.

  “We know.” He took my hand and gave a gentle squeeze. “As I was saying, after Stephen learned about the subliminal messages encoded in the game, he became curious about the designer. Which led to you—”

  “Why?” I interrupted.

  He shrugged his shoulders. “I’m not sure why he was interested. His mind worked like an encyclopedia. He would collect information and file them in his memory. Often his interests were random subjects he found intriguing. His mind was peculiar in that sense.”

  I saw the dry lump of pain he swallowed, and looked away. It was too familiar. He grieved the loss of his friend.

  “When Stephen discovered that the prodigious designer was a sixteen-year-old orphan girl, living alone, and being taken advantage of by the military, he wanted to protect you and kept a distant eye on you. He never told me why he cared, but I guessed something about your plight reminded him of his own life. He supplemented your food rations to make sure you had enough to eat and put in a kind word with the police to keep watch on your property.”

  It was all surreal. I didn’t want to believe him, but some things were starting to make sense. The chocolates and other small delicacies I’d sometimes find in my deliveries were always a joy. I just assumed my employers were thanking me for a job well done. And not once had I been robbed when it was a common occurrence for food packages to go missing during delivery week.

  My emotions got the better of me. I blinked away a tear, angry at Stephen Fleming for taking pity on me and grateful that someone had looked out for me. I hadn’t been alone after all.

  “I didn’t plan to deceive you when I broke into your house, but I didn’t want to alarm you and let on that I knew everything about you.”

  That one tear turned into a river, and Maverick gathered me in his arms. The human warmth I had missed since my parents’ passing made it worse. No one had held me in over eight years; not even at the funeral. My sobs became uncontrollable.

  I woke in bed, snug in Maverick’s embrace. The cabin had an open-floor plan and the sleeping area was on a raised platform to separate it from the living area. A single candle still burned on the kitchen table and gave off a dim glow. My head rested on his chest and I assumed he still slept since his breathing remained shallow and even. I put my assumption to the test and shifted. He mumbled something incomprehensible in his sleep and tightened his arms around me.

  I didn’t remember how we got to bed, but I remembered the crumpling sound the plastic made when he uncovered the bed with one hand while lowering me onto the mattress with his other hand. I remembered him pulling my shaking body to his as he lay next to me, stroking my hair while making soothing sounds. My tears had soaked his shirt, but he didn’t seem to notice. Sleep must have overtaken me then because I remembered nothing else.

  I was keenly aware that half of my body covered his, and I wanted to prolong the intimacy for as long as possible. I inhaled, filling my lungs with his scent, and I felt a stirring in the pit of my stomach.

  Maverick’s breath warm against my neck, his fingers tangled in my hair, and the beating of his heart beneath my palm, all worked together to arouse me. What started as a slight tingle between my legs grew into an intense throbbing and the butterflies in my stomach fluttered. My body was awakening to sexual desire.

  I lifted my leg and sprawled it over his. While pretending to move in my sleep, I pressed closer so my thigh would rest against his penis. It jerked through his pants, and I held my breath, afraid I had woken him and the moment would pass. When he didn’t stir, I let out the breath I’d been holding.

  I ached to touch him, run my hands over his muscles, know what the skin of a man felt like beneath my palm. I wanted his kisses and desired him inside of me.

  I acted out my sexual fantasies with my sex toys, re-enacting what I saw in adult films. This was my chance to be with a man. Would I ever get another opportunity like this one? If I’m not killed or imprisoned in a government cell, I would return to my own prison. What had I to lose?

  A voice in my head whispered that he would reject me. The small lower-belly pouch from all the sitting at my desk designing and programming computer games and the cellulite on my thighs reminded me I didn’t have the body of a supermodel. Because I never went out and nobody ever saw me, exercising and maintaining a sexy body stayed at the very bottom of my to-do list. Oh, how I regretted it now.

  I muted my self-deprecating voice. The room was dark enough for him to not see my flaws, and if he did, I hoped he’d be too inflamed to push me away. I had watched enough porn and studied the techniques the actresses used to feel confident I could seduce him.

  I splayed my fingers across his hard chest. It was slow progress undoing the buttons on his shirt with one hand. I pushed away his shirt and ran my hand over the soft hair on his chest. His skin was taut and warm to the touch. I needed to feel more of him. My hand slid to his groin. I debated waking him and telling him what I wanted or just taking advantage of him while he slept. I opted for the latter; my confidence hanged by a thread.

  My mounting lust soaked my panties. I popped the button on his pants and slid my hand into the waistband of his briefs. I ran my fingers in the coarse hair of his groin and stroked. He moaned in his sleep, and turned towards me, giving me better access to him. I figured it meant he liked it, and I smiled, relieved I had crossed the first hurdle with success. I pushed my hand deeper and covered his bulge with my palm.

  A surge of desire swept through me. I was hungry for him, and I wouldn’t deny myself. I curled my fingers around his balls and hefted the weight in my palm, while rolling them between my fingers.

  His hips bucked, and his hand came over mine. He took a sharp breath between gritted teeth. “Helios,” his voice was husky, “you… you are feeling vulnerable right now because of the dan—”

  “Shush, I want this. It has nothing to do with the danger.” My hand moved beneath his; I squeezed his cock harder and it stiffened in my palm. He hadn’t removed my hand and was still debating if this was the right thing to do. I wouldn’t give him the opportunity to think about it and continued to massage his jewels. When his breathing hissed and his hand pressed down on mine, I understood he wanted me to apply more pressure. He was lost.

  I ran my fingers along his shaft and he gasped when I squeezed to find what kind of pressure was more pleasurable. He raised his hips and pulled down his pants and underwear in one motion, exposing himself to me.

  Though he had walked naked around my house, I had kept my eyes diverted and had not gotten a peek at his equipment. The cabin was too dim for me to see him, so I used my hands and fingers like a blind person to feel what my eyes couldn’t see. His penis felt impressive in my hand. The skin was smooth, and my fingers traced the vein on the back of the shaft.

  I sat on my
heels and stroked it like I had seen the actresses do. The animalistic moan he let out told me I was on the right path. I ran my fingers over the head of his shaft and he released the first sign of his excitement. I coated the head with that sticky nectar and brought it to my lips for a taste. The unfamiliar smell, taste and feeling in my mouth overwhelmed my palate, staking a claim to my libido. My fiery breath had him bobbing at a full salute, waiting to forge his soldier into my mouth. I stimulated every inch with my tongue, circling his piece of hardware. It was delicious and intoxicating, like a drug I couldn’t get enough of. More of his essence trailed a straight line from the tip of my tongue to the back of my throat. I gave him the special treatment the porn stars reserved for their special clients in the movies. My practice with my sex toys was coming in handy. He fisted my hair while he thrusted his pelvis to make me swallow the full extent of his manhood. Gliding my lips up and down the flute of his arousal was making the inside of my thighs twitch in response.

  “I find it erotic to be clothed while you are almost naked.” I had come up for air long enough to express myself before returning to my delightful task.

  “I’ve never been treated like a piece of meat but I find I like it,” he teased while he held a fistful of my hair to make me look at him with my mouth full.

  My hand closed around the base, and I began stroking and sucking and flicking my tongue over the sensitive head. It had him bucking, trying to release the heavy potency of his cream. I knew it was boiling inside him, begging to come out. He was plumbing the depths of my mouth with his tool, pleading with his eyes for me to finish what I had started. I was guilty of prolonging it by holding him back from the pleasure he was desperately seeking. Having that kind of control over him made me feel powerful. The pleasure of his suffering excited me more. I slid my hand inside my panties, which were soaking wet, to play with myself.

  Without warning, he pulled me up and rolled me under him. He frantically pulled off my pants and tossed them on the floor before going after my panties with his teeth, pulling at the crotch. He wiggled his tongue past my panties to the wet glistening lips of my sex. I supported myself on my elbows to watch his tongue at work. This was better than any X-rated film.

  The fluttering in my stomach tightened. Maverick used his mouth like a suction cup and I was on the edge, clinging to the sheets with my nails, my chest arched, and my hips pressing me harder against his mouth.

  I lay back, curled my feet around his shoulders and locked my ankles in place. He moved his hands under my legs and cupped my cheeks, digging his nails into them. The sting shot straight to my sex and I felt more of my juices glide out. Maverick pushed his tongue as deep as it could go inside my vagina, and lapped every drop. He lifted my lower body, and I hovered in the air with all the blood rushing to my head. I stammered my approval with non-coherent words. The flutter in my stomach was building to a warm pressure. My moans got louder and more frantic, and with no way to control the intensity of my orgasm, I let out a howl.

  When he came up, I ran my finger along the silky texture of his lips, and he sucked on it. The act was highly erotic, and his cock twitched with excitement against my belly. I thought he was finished devouring my sex, but he had other ideas and went back for seconds while I was still quivering in the aftermath of my first man-provoked orgasm.

  I lay back. I had no argument against prolonging the intimacy into a mind-blowing experience I would never forget. I lost consciousness when the pleasure overwhelmed me.

  When I came to, he had removed my sweater and my bra. His mouth feasted on my breasts. Sucking and pulling with his lips, grazing the sensitive nipples with his teeth and stubble, kneading my flesh with one hand while with the other hand, he thrust two fingers into my vagina and stimulated the interior. I hadn’t known how sensitive my breasts were to outside stimulus until he bit the nipples, sending wild electroshocks through me. My body convulsed, and I soared through the sky. I came in his arms, barely conscious of my surroundings. When I landed back on earth, his tender kiss was unexpected and I melted into his warm embrace. Something sticky clung to our skins. I looked down, and my eyes widened at the meaning. He had found relief by focusing solely on my pleasure. My only regret was that I was too far gone to see him orgasm.

  He rolled off me and pulled me into his arms. “I didn’t think it was possible to come just by watching a woman orgasm. You are exquisite and so sensual. I can’t remember enjoying the body of a woman this much,” he murmured while stroking my sweat-soaked hair.

  I could only hope his words weren’t predicated on the danger licking at our heels. “No man has ever done that before,” I whispered, but he didn’t hear, he was already asleep. I snuggled closer to him and wondered why I had waited so long to break free of my chains. It wasn’t right to let that one night in my past define me.

  That was going to end.

  Chapter Ten

  The next morning, Maverick was up at the crack of dawn to watch the sunrise above the trees. He had removed the black plastic covering one window, and the morning rays filtered in. Specks of dust danced and twirled around him, making him look like a Greek god standing in a golden halo. His back was to me and I admired the way his jeans hung to his firm buttocks and the flexing of his back muscles when he moved.

  “Good morning,” he turned and smiled. He must have seen my reflection in the glass pane.

  I blushed, caught blatantly devouring him with my eyes. “Hi.”

  He walked to the bed. Water dripped from his hair onto his naked chest. He smelled of lemon soap. He placed one knee on the bed, bent his head and kissed me. “Any regrets?” he murmured against my lips.

  He was worried about my feelings after having sex with him. Words failed me. I shook my head and gave him a bright smile.

  “Good. Because I don’t have any either.” He kissed me again, this time with more passion, then said, “I’ve heated some water for you. I’ll get breakfast ready while you wash up.”

  I didn’t move and clung the sheet tighter around my naked body. I wasn’t about to let him see my wobbly stomach and jelly thighs while I scrambled around gathering my scattered clothes.

  He looked at me. His eyes penetrating, reading my thoughts. Unable to meet his gaze, I lowered my head. He tugged the sheet from my clenched fists and peeled it away, uncovering my body inch by inch. His eyes roamed over me, from my head to my toes and back to my head. I held my breath and prepared to hear harsh words of disgust.

  “You are ravishing.”

  My eyes flew to his face. Had I heard him right?

  “I love your body, I love your curves, I love how you express yourself in bed and how you are not afraid to go after what you want.” He took my hand and placed it over his cock, which was stiff and twitched under my palm. “This is what you do to me.”

  My clit throbbed with expectation and his penis jerked when he saw my sex glistening with my juices. He threw his head back and stared at the ceiling, counting under his breath and fighting his primal instincts. After a few deep breaths, he released my hand. My disappointment showed when he picked me up like a child and carried me to the bathroom.

  “As much as I would love to ravish you right now, we need to plan our next move and be ahead of the authorities.” He kissed the top of my head and closed the door behind him.

  We sat at the kitchen table, the aroma of brewed coffee a comforting smell around us. Stephen Fleming had counted on my network of computer geniuses and hackers to help him get the missing proof he needed. Plan B was to convince me to recruit my network of hackers to infiltrate Mother’s database and steal the proof he needed.

  I encrypted a message to Jason and within fifteen minutes he had a secure line of communication for us. Jason was only too eager to get on board. We agreed he would select the most trustworthy coders, cyberpunks, and cyber-terrorists from his conspiracy theorists’ network and keep information on a need to know basis.

  The coders would write the computer code to gain backdoor acce
ss to Mother’s servers. Jason would go through Dr. Fleming’s emails to discover the identity of his military friend so we could prove Maverick did not kill him. My job was to put in place a distribution network to release the information worldwide. That meant transmitting the data to all communication satellites in space so they would emit the signal simultaneously. Our window of opportunity would be about a minute and a half before the government pulled the plug.

  We needed to condense all the data Maverick and Fleming had gathered and the ones we would steal from Mother into a ninety-second comprehensible feed so the average ten-year-old could understand the broadcast. And the only communication guru I knew was Lionel, Geraldine’s ex-husband.

  Geraldine and I met on a video game chat forum. She was an avid fan of warfare video games. We hit it off immediately. I admired her “Who gives a fuck” attitude and wished I could be as brazen as her.

  While I worked on the plan, Maverick secured our abode. The authorities had labeled us dangerous terrorists and there was a shoot-to-kill order out. He placed rudimentary traps in a radius of one hundred yards around the cabin that would alert us if anyone came close. He also pulled out a backpack from under the bed and prepared supplies for when we had to leave the cabin. He took the night vigil, watching for anything out of the ordinary.

  On the second day, he was restless and paced around the cabin like a tiger in a cage. It amused me because I was used to being confined to a small space and felt quite cozy.

  By noon, Maverick threw his hands up and exclaimed, “That’s it, I can’t stay in here with you and that bed taunting me every time I turn around. Come on, we’re going outside.”

  I would have preferred to stay indoors with him and have wild, crazy sex. Without the cover of darkness, my wanton attitude was less confident, and I was too shy to initiate sex in broad daylight. Tonight, I’ll take matters into my hands.