TWO MOONS
Book One
Worthy of A Master
By
CHELSEA SHEPARD
A Renaissance E Books publication
ISBN 1-58873-289-4
All rights reserved
Copyright © 2003 by Chelsea Shepard
This book may not be reproduced in whole or in part without written permission.
For information contact:
Renaissance E Books
Email [email protected]
A Sizzler B&D Edition
DEDICATION
TO ADRIAN
Chapter ONE
The bite was unexpected, but welcome. It left my nipple sore, and my sex dripping. My howl of pain ended in a groan of pleasure that echoed loudly in the empty cave. As his tongue traced wet trails down my belly, I dug my fingers in the dirt and arched my hips. His mouth reached my pelvis, full of evil promises. Then, as if he had second thoughts, he grabbed my breasts viciously.
Yes, boy, that's it. Take me hard and rough. Be an animal, a lustful beast, a soulless creature.
My strategy was working wonderfully well. The walk in the woods, the cave, the semi-darkness, the strong scent of wilderness: nature conspired to turn a gentle lover into a horny maniac. In this primitive environment, his instincts overcame his socially-correct behavior. No more tender kisses; bring on the claws and fangs.
I was going somewhat primal myself. The brisk air on my skin, the whistling of the wind in the trees, the occasional shriek of an animal, even the rocks stabbing through the old jacket I had thrown on the ground – my sole concession to comfort – revived my mating needs better than any porn movie. I was no longer a modern, independent woman. I was a female, ready to be used and abused by the all-powerful alpha male.
Caught up in a bestial fantasy, I planted my nails in his shoulders and scraped down. He uttered a growl of surprise, then twisted my nipples in retaliation. My sex contracted, and brutal images filled my mind. If only I'd brought some rope, I thought as I conjured a surrealistic vision of my body pinned to the cavern wall.
But I doubted my very excited lover would bother to struggle with knots. His penis, poking at the entrance of my folds, was as hard as the stone surrounding us. When he could no longer control his erection, he impaled me without mercy, forcing his way deep down before pulling out and ramming back into me. My flesh burned with both pain and desire.
Damn. Too early. I didn't want to come yet. We had just started, and after all these efforts, I wanted to make the fantasy last and enjoy it until I screamed of contained passion. But I was a victim of my own plot. Beastie Boy couldn't care less about my longings. He was completely obsessed with his ever-thickening member.
Worried he was going to climax too soon and anxious to prolong the game, I tried to escape. I held his shoulders and started to roll over, dredging up enough adrenalin to defeat a stronger man. But his reaction stopped me short.
"Don't squirm. I'm almost there."
My desire dropped dead. Cold and indifferent, I let him finish, and pouted the minute he rolled of me. He was breathless, content, and … proud? What a prick.
"You may go now," I said on a neutral tone. "I guess you'll find your way back."
He propped himself on one elbow and looked at me in disbelief.
"What do you mean? You're not coming with me? You want me to leave now?"
"No, and yes. I need to be alone. Please go."
"Wasn't it good?" he asked, concerned.
Deciding it was best not to reply, I got up and walked to the darkest corner of the cave where I leaned on the rocks. The cold stone against my naked ass sent a shiver through my loins and reminded me I wasn't finished yet. I would have to do something about my own needs as soon as my ex-lover was out of sight.
I watched him put on his clothes, mumbling curses as he knelt and slithered awkwardly through the hole in the rotten planks that hid the access to the cave.
"You're a fucking weird girl, you know that?" he yelled before stomping down the gravel path that would take him out of the woods.
Yes, I was a weird girl, much to my dismay. Normal sex didn't do it for me. What had once been pleasant was now tedious and frustrating. I had only recently discovered the reason why.
I had a passion for kinky sex. Kinky as in bondage, power exchange, sadomasochism, and leather. The Internet helped me put names on my desires, and understand why I was aroused by a movie scene with a girl cuffed to a radiator. Once I got a clue, I investigated further and discovered a whole lifestyle a click of a mouse away.
In those self-discovery days, I was in a serious relationship. Ray and I were deeply in love, and our plans for a common future had begun to take shape. Confident in our mutual feelings, I had figured I could share my kinks with him.
One night, I asked him to tie me to the bed. Luckily, he was game. He found old luggage straps and started with my legs. I was already soaking the sheet under me. Then he bound one hand, and, argh, left the other one free.
"So you can caress me," he said.
I felt so miserable, I asked him to untie me, and we never tried bondage again. We broke up three weeks later.
For a while, my celibacy made me hopeful. With so many chat rooms available on the Web, I would surely find a more suitable boyfriend, one who wouldn't leave my hands free. But it wasn't that easy. After a few months, I realized that finding a sane, smart and sexy lover you could trust to bind you to his bed was like discovering the Holy Grail in your dishwasher.
I stopped looking for Mr. Hyde, and started dating vanilla men again. I tried to spice things up within acceptable limits. I wore sexy lingerie, and left scarves on the bedside table, baiting the kinky devils that I hoped lurked under the facade of my gentleman callers. I wasn't successful. Nice guys didn't share my fantasies. Since I was afraid of blind dates, the only way I could feed the snake was self-bondage.
Finding inspiration in books and stories I read online, I used household material like rope and clothespins, and even indulged in the purchase of a pair of leather cuffs that quickly became my most cherished possession. For a time, self-bondage was so satisfying, I didn't need a man.
However, my happy independence occasionally turned into desperate loneliness, and I would leave my bedroom to search the dating world for a soulmate. Inevitably, the sex would leave me wanting. I found new baitware – this trip to my childhood hideout seemed like a grand idea – but the only thing I was bound to was failure.
Dispirited, I knew only too well what I would do once I got home: hide my vibrators and the leather cuffs in the back of a drawer. They reminded me too much of what I craved, but couldn't get: someone to lock them around my wrists.
But today, I wasn't in a hurry to face my demons, so I lingered in the cave. After fingering myself to my satisfaction, I put on my black T-shirt, tight pants and tennis shoes, and took a look around. The graffiti my friends and I had carved two decades ago were intact. I smiled as I remembered the number of hours we had spent in our secret lair. No parent ever knew about it. The cave had been classified as dangerous long before we were born, and a wall of wood covered its natural entrance. Over the years, the planks had rotted, and it had literally been child's play to tear up a few boards and excavate a hole.
For the kids in my neighborhood, the cave in the woods was the best playground. When we became teenagers, it served an even better purpose: a place to bring out boyfriends.
After reading the silly declarations covering the walls, I made to leave when I heard noises at the back of the cave. Footsteps on gravel. Voices. Very distant, but very real.
I was oddly d
rawn to the sounds, curious to see who had found our secret opening. Kids? Lovers? Worse?
At the back of the cave, there was a narrow passage. Eager to expand our kids-only realm, we had thoroughly explored it, but after twenty steps, a rock wall blocked our progress, and we had never managed to pull it down. As I followed my old footsteps, I was surprised to find a hole big enough for one person to walk through.
Was the new generation smarter than mine?
Unless I wasn't dealing with kids.
I tiptoed forward, following the voices. There were two: one male, one female. She giggled. Lovers?
I moved closer, and the sounds became clearer. Thanks to many travels abroad, I was good with languages. But what I heard sounded like nothing I knew.
I was very close to them now. Another mass of rocks stood in my way. On the other side, somewhere below me, I could hear the couple talking. I searched for a crack to peek through and rested my hands on the stones for support. I tried to be as quiet as possible.
Not quiet enough.
The wall came down as easily as a movie facade. The rock I was leaning on fell forward, dislodging more in its wake, and the whole structure collapsed with a burst of noise that resonated inside every passage in the cave. I held my breath, staring at the huge opening in front of me. Because of the dust, I couldn't see the new chamber I had discovered, but the echo alluded to its stupendous size.
An oppressive silence followed the roar. I should have run away, but what if someone needed help?
As the dust dissipated, I saw rough-hewn stairs leading down to the cave. At the bottom of the steps, a boy and a girl, both in their mid-twenties, looked up at me. They were dusty and stunned, but unharmed. Their faces bore the guilt of lovers who've been caught.
I smiled; they grinned back. I was about to apologize when an army – well, actually, three guys – rushed into the cave. When they looked up, they stopped as if they had shared a vision of a ghost.
In spite of their agitation, they were not threatening. I pantomimed embarrassment and waited for someone to speak.
Something was weird, though. As I looked down at the strangers, my subconscious screamed that these people were not members of my tribe.
Contrasting their copper skin and dark, slanted eyes, their hair ranged from dark brown to blond. The combination was odd, but did not justify the knot tightening in my stomach. Two of them were wearing shiny coveralls, the kind you would expect to find in a laboratory. Again, intriguing, but not worthy of panic.
One of them waved at me to walk down and meet them.
Halfway down the stairs, I noticed that they were all taller than average. Even the girl was probably one head higher than me, and I'm not small. "Genetic manipulation" came to mind. Had I interrupted an experiment? That would explain the coveralls. Not the funny language, though.
As I reached the last step, wondering what to do or say, the blond guy moved closer. He looked determined and fearless, but his blue eyes radiated kindness. A fighter pilot with a soft spot.
He spoke to me in English. "Hello. Are you alone?"
The question unnerved me.
"I...yes, I am. I'm sorry I burst in on you like this. I heard voices and–"
I turned to look at the couple, racking my brains for an amusing joke, when I saw it.
My head boiled. My limbs froze. My stomach threatened to liberate the light breakfast I'd eaten hours ago.
They had no ears.
On closer inspection, I saw that they had a small bud protruding from either side of their heads, but no auricle. I stuttered as my brain jumped to the only conclusion it could fathom. Their language, their size, their eyes, their absence of ears, the hiding, the coveralls, and that peculiar look indicating concern and curiosity.
They suddenly appeared very ... alien.
"Are you?" I stammered with half the words stuck in my throat.
I couldn't tell whether they were amused or annoyed. Probably both. They spoke among themselves in their unintelligible lingo, and then confirmed my suspicions.
"We're, um, visitors."
My dizziness increased. Half of me wanted to dash out of the cave screaming, while the other half felt strangely like crying. I slumped down on a rock behind me. My legs were shaking, my fingers prickling, and the cloud of dust reappeared, this time in my head. I was thirsty, too. And breathless.
Extraterrestrials. Was this a dream? A nightmare? A fantasy?
The blond man smiled reassuringly, and my fear slowly gave way to intense curiosity. Obviously, they hadn't come to slaughter mankind, and they weren't terrifyingly ugly like aliens were supposed to be. Actually, they looked too much like Earthlings to be true. I was going to ask if they were wearing masks, or if they had morphed into humans, but that would have sounded pretty stupid. If I was their first Earth contact, I should do my race proud and act with dignity.
After a deep breath, I stood up and extended my still-trembling hand.
"I'm Megan," I managed to say.
Pitiful for history books, but hopefully human enough.
The blond man held my hand without shaking it. His touch, smooth but firm, sent an electric wave down my spine. I commanded myself not to faint.
"Nice to meet you, Megan. I'm Naari," he said before releasing me.
I was too shocked to catch the names of Naari's friends as he introduced them, but I greeted them all with a smile. They didn't seem any more comfortable than I was, and that helped.
I was becoming less anxious when an angry voice startled me. Everyone turned to confront the new presence in the room.
Even in their foreign language, his intervention sounded a lot like, "what the fuck is going on here?" Later, I found out those had been his exact words.
Naari and the others looked sheepishly at their boss, who was waiting for answers with his arms resting on his hips. He had the same dark, almond-shaped eyes, short brown hair and, of course, no ears, but he was strikingly handsome. Like Naari, he looked smart, strong and audacious, but where his friend had a soft spot, this man had a dark edge.
I believe I fell for him right there and then. It was a sudden flash, an intense feeling I couldn't control. I thought I was too old to experience that kind of irrational crush; apparently, my heart disagreed. Although, truth be told, the heat in my body had more to do with sex than romance. That man was a dream come flesh. Even his anger was charming.
Until I remembered I was the reason for it. What would he do about my unwanted intrusion?
Judging from his temperamental reaction, I wasn't welcome in the cave. If the aliens had been careful enough to establish their base in this safe hideout, they clearly intended to stay hidden. And I was a threat to their secret existence.
I didn't want to panic, but it was becoming obvious that they were losing their initial enthusiasm for me. Naari looked embarrassed; the boy and girl who'd unwittingly caught my eye were flushed with shame.
What would they do to me? Besides killing me with laser beams, which I didn't think was an option here, how did extraterrestrials deal with unwanted intruders? Swap their brains? Turn them into statues? Abduct them as samples for their interplanetary zoo?
At the idea of them – him – kidnapping me, my belly tingled. Not an altogether unpleasant sensation.
More seriously, I didn't want to leave the cave. Not so soon. I had many questions to ask; many things to learn. Perhaps I could stay with them for a few days, and they would tell me all about their planet. My life would expand to new dimensions. I could also gain their trust enough to help them. I would be their tourist guide on Earth, their spy, their supplier.
I caught the eye of the dark-haired man, who was studying every inch of my body. I attempted a smile, but turned away when his features didn't flinch.
I decided the best option was stalling. The aliens seemed like they could use extra time to decide what to do with me, and as long as I didn't ask to leave right away, they wouldn't feel threatened.
"Khiru," Naar
i suddenly shifted to English, "what about letting Megan stay awhile? I'm sure it would please her."
I nodded vehemently, although I didn't think they needed my agreement. They had probably reached the same conclusion that time was their best counselor.
Khiru mumbled something that sounded like approval, and led the way further into the cave. More excited than afraid, which was saying a lot, I followed him and Naari on a path leading out of the chamber.
The narrow passage opened onto another big room where a prefabricated warehouse had been assembled. The glass dome extending to the ceiling was thoroughly impressive. Inside, I expected to find additional signs of power and technological supremacy, but I was actually pleased to discover a warm and cozy interior.
Six hexagonal cubicles opened onto a central area. Most of the tools and appliances were unknown to me, but I recognized a kitchen and a living room with low couches, as well as a laundry cell where wet clothes hung from wires. Another cubicle was packed with devices that looked like fourth-millennium computers. A hologram with cuneiform symbols and graphics hung in the air. In the two remaining units, more mysterious instruments confirmed the scientific tasks at hand.
Another series of smaller cubicles, all but one closed, were built on a second floor. I counted ten of them, and the sight of a bed in the opened room indicated they were private quarters.
The structure had a neat, beehive touch; the colors were soft and appealing, and the upper panels diffused enough light to compensate for the lack of the real thing. It seemed like a very comfortable place to live. How long had they been here? And how long were they planning to stay?
While Khiru entered the computer cubicle after sending the crew back to work, Naari told me to make myself comfortable in the living room and disappeared in the kitchen.
I sat on a brown couch that looked like plastic, but felt like soft velvet, and noticed a variety of containers piled up here and there.
Naari returned with glasses of a blue beverage, and Khiru joined us. They both settled in the couches – Naari next to me, Khiru in front of us – as if they meant to stay there for the rest of the day. I was thrilled they took time off to discuss things with me. I couldn't dream of a better start.
Worthy of a Master: The Tale of a Perfect Slave Page 1
