Dominating Dekalia

by Reese Gabriel

  Ancient fireworks mixed with the colors and tastes of a holo explosion. Whirling and contracting and expanding and whirling again, twisting her inside out until she didn’t know up from down or here from there.

  So this was what primale orgasms were like. No wonder fems took such high risks to get involved with them.

  He stayed with her until long after the last climax had subsided. The whole time he kissed her as she gradually returned to the known universe.

  “Martirus…”

  “I know,” he said softly. “I have it covered.”

  He helped her to her feet. She felt light as a feather.

  “Well, well.” Martirus appeared from nowhere. He was twenty feet away, walking toward them.

  Dekalia braced herself. It was time. She grabbed Marax’s hand and suddenly she was no longer scared. If anything she was anxious to get the whole thing over with.

  Martirus seemed pensive as he joined the circle, sealing their hands.

  “What do you say,” she asked. “Should we chant Ring Around the Rosie?”

  “I have a better idea,” said Marax and that’s when he let go of Dekalia and yanked Martirus hard against his chest.

  They were locked in a bear hug. It took a moment to register.

  “What are you doing?” cried Dekalia.

  “I’m saving you, now get out of here!”

  A clap of thunder nearly shook her teeth free from her mouth. The lightning was painful to look at it. The ground began to shake. The ocean turned colors from purple to red. Red as the bird they’d seen earlier. Red as blood. Red like death…like this whole world was coming to an end.

  Darkness came like a cloak and with it swirling wind. Was it the wormhole?

  In a flash she understood Marax’s intentions. His plan in bringing Martirus here.

  There were no secrets between them. He really did intend to sacrifice himself for the greater good, holding Martirus fast until the wormhole swallowed them both whole.

  “You can’t do this,” she cried. “I’m staying with you!”

  “The hell you are, woman!”

  Marax pushed her away.

  Dekalia felt the winds catching her up. Seizing her and pulling her farther and farther away. The beach was disappearing.

  Marax had Martirus in his clutches now. Around them the forces of destruction and creation blew. The cauldron of galaxies and the power of the stars. The two supermen grappling for control.

  Dekalia called out to Marax one final time…and then he was gone.

  * * * * *

  I’m dead. Then again, thought Marax, if I think I’m dead maybe I’m still alive. Otherwise how could I think anything?

  But live people had more than thoughts, didn’t they? They had limbs to move and eyes to blink and ears to hear with.

  Such was the swirl of thoughts ’round and ’round in the void. Just him and the blackness…and Martirus. Who was still there but definitely dead. His body and his soul congealed into nothingness.

  Marax ran through the events again in his mind. The vast struggle. The forces of the wormhole ripping at them both.

  Martirus’ body had given way first.

  Marax had held on.

  Yes, Martirus was destroyed, left to rot in his very own wormhole tomb while Marax watched from the other side.

  But how in the hell was Marax supposed to get out?

  Somewhere in his memory there was Dekalia. And the act that had happened between them, just prior to or maybe during the split-off, when he’d let go of her and grabbed hold of the mad genius.

  They had made sex. He and Dekalia had produced a child. They had touched each other’s souls.

  But how had the act turned into flesh? Babies came from the machines. They were genetic products. Designed to meet specific needs.

  Perfect calculations.

  But Nyssa…was real.

  And he had to get back to her and her mother too. That determination on his part was the difference. He would find his way back even if it took the rest of eternity.

  Chapter Ten

  Tragaxar frowned as he tapped his fingers on the glowing red desk. A few seconds ago all hell had broken loose from one end of the known universe to another and now it was quiet just as if the disturbance had never happened.

  Like a great hole had opened, swallowing itself in the middle of space and time.

  Gone too was the Narthian invasion fleet that had been mounting from the Western sector these last two cycles. It was at this point the comm link activated to tell him Dekalia was waiting to see him. Without Marax.

  To say he had questions was to put it more than a little mildly. Typically, she wanted the first word…and the last.

  “I have one thing to say,” she told him, her hair a wreck and her clothing half torn from her body. “Marax died serving you and serving Earth. Whatever medals you have, whatever honors, you will give him every one. And then you will make a new one. And after that you will announce your resignation. Martial law is over.”

  It was at this point that Tragaxar first noticed the bundle in her arms. It was moving, squirming.

  “And what exactly is that?” he demanded. “And more to the point, why in the seven galaxies would I surrender to you?”

  Dekalia’s smile chilled the guardian commander to the core.

  “Not to me, to her.”

  Tragaxar’s jaw dropped. It wasn’t possible. And yet, there in the bundle, he was seeing it with his own eyes.

  A baby.

  “Her name is Nyssa. She will rule the council one day and bring a new era to all of us.”

  Tragaxar could say nothing.

  The infant Nyssa beheld him, all eyes and smiles.

  “Would you like to hold her?”

  He shook his head.

  A baby. The word kept ringing in his primale mind. A baby had been produced without the genetic computers.

  If this could happen what could be next?

  Anything. Anything at all.

  * * * * *

  The baby was down for her nap. Apparently infants needed lots of them. They slept almost as much as they were awake.

  Dekalia had learned this and plenty more too. It was all so sweet watching her child grow. The many firsts, her laughter and her tears, the way she moved and grasped and wriggled.

  Little Nyssa.

  With her perfect ten toes and fingers. She had made them…along with Marax. Feeling choked up at the thought of him, Dekalia decided to take a shower.

  The waterfall was entirely natural, designed from Dekalia’s memories of the shelter, from the waterfalls to the beach to the small but verdant jungle. Taking showers had become her favorite pastime. Showers were good and cool and all that water was excellent for covering tears.

  She had learned to love showers when she was with Marax. She remembered the chill that always came down her spine, delicious and sweet, when she knew he was watching, trying to conceal his desire. And the way her body felt when she imagined what it was doing to him having her so close and just out of reach. He could have had her any time but he had that code of his, the ethics of the primale warrior.

  Funny how even now after so many months she could still imagine him. Sometimes it was so vivid. Unbidden now she felt her nipples begin to tighten as she thought of his hands and how he used to touch her.

  They had shared so little intimate time together but each encounter had been like the first and she was quite sure she would never feel such things for another man, primale or mem.

  Marax was unique. He was her baby’s father. He was her lover.

  Such a funny word for one like her to use, a fem who wasn’t supposed to love anyone and yet Marax was all she ever thought of no matter what she was engaged in, be it her work on the council or caring for little Nyssa, he was always there in the background.

  Guarding. Protecting. Her own personal guardian. And he would never be forgotten.

  Nyssa would know all about him, she would see to that. They
would have long talks and Nyssa would ask all the questions that she liked and when they tired of talking they could go and see the shrine Tragaxar had erected in Marax’s name.

  It had been his last official act prior to resigning. He had resisted of course but the moment she had brought the baby before the council and let them see what had happened between her and Marax everything changed.

  Even the hardcore conservatives were forced to admit it. Human procreation was not meant to be controlled by machines alone.

  Her own election as president by unanimous decree had come as a surprise but she had accepted the mantle. Wisely she had agreed to do nothing drastic. The public at large was not to know what had happened. The genetic program would continue as usual with babies being produced and reared by machines.

  Meanwhile there would be carefully engineered experiments with a few carefully chosen individuals whose DNA would be allowed to mingle.

  Her own vision was the utter transformation of the system. No more mems and fems, no primales and obedients but only people. But that would take time. Maybe eons.

  There was no rush. In the meantime the Narthians would have to be dealt with. It would be a hard time but also one filled with joy and possibility.

  If only she didn’t have to face it alone.

  “Your hair,” she heard him whisper. “I missed the smell so much.”

  Dekalia leaned back, enjoying the fantasy. She had them often and frequently they led her to run her fingers over her body, pleasuring herself. She was prepared to do so again but a hand on her wrist stopped her.

  “No, let me.”

  Her heart skipped a beat. It felt so real. And then she turned and saw him.

  “Did I startle you?” Marax tried not to laugh as he saw the expression on her face, the mixture of disbelief and wonder and desire.

  “M-Marax?” The way she said his name made him remember and want and need everything all at once.

  “You’ve no idea how long I’ve waited to hear your voice.”

  “But you’re…you…”

  He put his finger tips to her lips. “Don’t speak. I was dead, beyond dead, but I’m back and don’t ask how. It’s wormhole physics and I’m not interested in physics right now.” What he had in mind was biology, specifically the hardening shaft between his legs. Luckily he had disposed of his clothing prior to wading into the water after her. He hadn’t expected to sneak up on her so easily. She must have been quite distracted.

  One look at her close up told him what it was she’d been thinking about. Sex-making.

  “So tell me,” he murmured, cupping her left breast. “Who is it you’re dreaming about? Better be me or they will be in very deep trouble.”

  She laughed softly, the sound mixed with a sigh of desire. “Who do you think, you big jerk? And don’t you be nice to me. You had me scared sick. I thought I had lost you and furthermore what gave you the right to—”

  He silenced her with his lips, mouth to mouth, tongue probing, an instant deep kiss to awaken them both to the possibilities ahead.

  Dekalia went weak in his arms. He scooped her up from the water.

  “I missed you so much,” she said, burying her head against his chest.

  “And I missed you,” he replied. “You’ll never know how much.”

  All of a sudden the universe disappeared. He knew there was so much else to do but for the moment there was only Dekalia.

  She knew what he wanted and quickly positioned herself, her wet, sleek body sliding down over his abdomen.

  He impaled her in one swift thrust. She was open and ready and hot.

  “You are mine, Dekalia.”

  “I’m yours,” she concurred.

  He thrust himself deep, encouraging her to lock her ankles behind him. She did so and they began to rock against each other, the rhythm so furious and frenetic it drowned out the pouring waterfall.

  He could feel her shaking from deep within. There was no holding back for either one of them. She dug her nails into his back and the pain only spurred him on. He willed his cum to spurt inside her and as his cock reached mammoth size she clenched him tightly and began her own release, longer and much more complicated like the water spilling and washing over them both.

  Marax held her so tightly, allowing the waves to overtake them both. The hot lava exploding and bubbling, the center of all creation all about them, just like the first time they had climaxed together.

  Afterward, she clung to him, limp but satisfied.

  He smelled her clean scent, the richness of her hair. He listened to her breathing. He did everything to make sure it was real.

  They were here. Together.

  “You have a daughter,” she said at last. “We have a daughter.”

  And his heart swelled with pride.

  “I know,” he replied.

  “You just know everything, don’t you,” she teased.

  He kissed her, nibbling her lips. “Not quite. I don’t know what she looks like.”

  “We can fix that.”

  “Indeed we can.”

  Marax carried her inside to the room. His heart skipped a beat.

  Nyssa.

  The most amazing little creature. Sleeping soundly in a crib right before his eyes.

  “Should I be jealous?” Dekalia quipped.

  “Maybe.”

  For a long, long time he watched her sleep.

  And then she woke up and that’s where the story really begins.

  Epilogue

  Council President Dekalia smiled as she leaned against her lifemate Marax, Commandant General of the Guardian Corps. She felt his warmth and the possessive feel of his fingers intertwined in hers.

  Together they were watching their little girl playing in the grass. She was lining up her robopuppies, turning them into an impromptu audience. It was the hundredth time or so she’d performed this particular number for them.

  Nyssa was a perfectly happy and normal child with a wide variety of interests but singing was one of her favorite things to do and she was quite good at it.

  She also enjoyed acting and was particularly fond of making long speeches. Especially when it came time to avoid something she did not wish to do like going to bed.

  “She’s so much like you,” Marax said now, half teasing, half in wonder.

  “Why? Because she’s such a little ham?”

  “Why do you think?” He laughed. “Because she’s like the sun and the moon, she reflects her own light. The whole world will love her.”

  “Sometimes I’m afraid,” Dekalia admitted. “Of what she’s going to face if people learn where she really came from.”

  “That secret is safe.” He clenched her hand tight, his version of a primale pledge. “No one will ever know. She will have her chance to fulfill her destiny.”

  “But there will always be enemies like Martirus.”

  “Enemies make life interesting,” he dismissed.

  “Daddy, Mommy,” called out Nyssa. “You’re not watching.”

  “We’ve been remonstrated,” said Dekalia.”

  “Indeed,” said Marax. He slipped his arm around his life mate.

  “I love you,” he said.

  “And I love you.”

  Nyssa was singing her heart out, much to the enjoyment of the robopuppies.

  “When do you leave?” she asked softly.

  He let out a rare sigh. “In two cycles.”

  It would be a long campaign, she knew. And dangerous. Never before had they attempted to take the battle to the enemy.

  “You have to promise me you’ll come home safe.”

  “I always do, my love.”

  “Promise me anyhow.”

  Marax took her into his arms by way of answer. The kiss was warm and fresh and full of life. She immediately wanted to go with him somewhere alone and make sex but a small voice of protest reminded them of reality.

  “You aren’t watching,” their daughter accused. “You’re ‘opposted to be watching.
”

  Dekalia fought the urge to correct her. Soon enough all her little childhood quirks would be gone and she would be a young woman making her way in the world.

  Already she and Marax had their eye on an ideal suitor. One day the two would meet ostensibly for a quite different purpose. They would never know what hit them. He would be the finest warrior of his generation and she its greatest leader. Together they would prepare the world for the next age.

  Marax scooped Nyssa into his arms. “Will you ever forgive us?”

  She giggled because he made it sound such a serious offense, complete with dramatic, sad eyes.

  “No,” she teased him back. “Never in a gumptillion years.”

  And then he tickled her. And she went into hysterics.

  “Daddy is so funny,” she announced.

  Dekalia agreed, though she couldn’t help the tears.

  “Why are you crying, Mommy?”

  “Love makes you do strange things,” Marax explained.

  Like falling for a primale, the most stubborn and handsome one in the galaxy. Now she was smiling again.

  Nyssa rolled her eyes. “Make up your mind, Mommy. Are you happy or sad?”

  “I’m both, honey.”

  The three of them embraced now and she held on as long as she could, ever so thankful for every moment, even the terrible and scary ones.

  Because all things do turn out for the best. At least when you have love.

  The End

  About the Author

  Reese Gabriel is a born romantic with a taste for the edgier side of love. Having traveled the world and sampled many of the finer things, Reese now enjoys the greater simplicities—barefoot walks by the ocean, kisses under moonlight and whispers of passion in the darkness with that one special person.

  Preferring to remain behind the scenes, cherished by a precious few, Reese hopes to awaken in the lives of many the possibilities of true love through stories of far off places and enchanted lives.

  For the sake of love and hope and imagination, these stories are told. May they be enjoyed as much in the reading as in the writing.