by Silver Lake
Strange - Eight Unusual Sensual Tales
By Silver Lake
Copyright © 2013 by Silver Lake. All rights reserved.
This e-book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
This e-book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language and may be considered offensive to some readers. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.
Contents
Concubine
Devoured
Innocent
Conceived
Defiled
Asleep
Forbidden
Drowned
Concubine
Looking out on to Baroque City, Zana waited for her prey to arrive. Evening had come to the colony, the ancient red sun dappling the city’s spiked towers and bat shaped minarets in dark golden light. Dust storms coming in from the canyons clogged the streets of the lower slums, forcing the market stalls to put up their shutters, but here in the Upper Tiers the dust didn’t impede the view. Zana could see Baroque in all its grotesque glory, and it made her sick to the pit of her stomach.
Biting down on her disgust, she turned away from the window, and stalked in to the inner bed chamber. She had been sent to the Archduke’s private quarters in the highest tower of the Blood Palace. The décor was suitably decadent, with silk drapes of deep burgundy and floors and walls of polished black marble. The cavernous bed in the centre of the main chamber was a voluptuous mound of black silk. Zana tried to keep her gaze away from it, and went to check her appearance again in one of the many mirrors in the bathroom area.
She was attractive, that was a given. With a pretty, heart shaped face, petite features and a perfect, cupid-bow’s mouth. As befitting a Dark Concubine, her lipstick was glossy black and matched the mascara that accentuated her glittering green eyes. Her eye shadow was a deep shade of purple, and the tiny cocktail dress stretched across her elegant, shapely figure was strawberry red. The dress showed off her slender legs, and her bare feet were encased in black high heels studded with diamonds.
That vinegar-faced bitch, the Mistress of the Concubines, had made her dye her chestnut brown hair pitch black, and it had been styled in to an exotic looking bun, replete with a bone white lily. Of all the cosmetic changes they’d forced upon her, what they’d done to her hair was the most hateful. She preferred it loose, cascading over her shoulders and down her back.
But it was a necessary evil, she reasoned to herself. The Brethren of Light had invested a lot of energy and money in getting her installed in the Palace, and had gone to extreme lengths to ensure Zana got a chance to be alone with the Archduke. They’d never be able to get this opportunity again. Zana knew she couldn’t fail, or everything would be lost. The Archduke had to die by her hand, tonight.
A shudder ran through the girl, and she went back to pacing the quarters. She returned to the wall length window and looked gloomily out at the city again. Zana couldn’t work out why she was so jittery. She’d been on undercover missions like this before, and she was no stranger to killing vampires. She’d assassinated over a dozen high ranking Grand Counts, and killed countless revenant warriors and ghoul soldiers. She’d fought in the Fourth Gorgon War, and battled the spread of the vampire menace across eight star systems. She could more than handle a degenerate nobleman.
But it still didn’t calm her nerves. Perhaps it was because of how important a target the Archduke was. He controlled this part of the sector, and responsible for Baroque City’s zombie factories. If he died, the factories’ necro-energy would dissipate and all the undead legions in this part of the galaxy would cease to function. It would be a tremendous blow to the vampire war machine, and the Brethren would be able to recapture the territories lost in the Blood Wars.
It all depended on her. If she succeeded, it would be a tremendous victory for humankind not enslaved by the vampire menace. If she failed…
Angrily, Zana balled her fists and banished thoughts of pessimism from her mind. She could do this. That was why the Elder Brothers had selected her. She had the right training, the right experience, if anyone could bring this bastard now, it was her.
As she looked down on the city again, Zana thought back to that terrible day when her life had changed forever. She had been five years old, a simple farm girl on one of the outer colonies in the Segment System. Her Papa and Mama owned a humble smallholding, growing julter fruit and raising cazarn lizards. Zana’s memories of that time were very hazy at best now, but she recalled a feeling of contentment whenever she thought back to that time. Her Papa was a kind man, she recalled, and Mama was a gentle woman, always smiling and happy. It had been a lot of hard work on the farm, but she remembered that she’d enjoyed her life very much.
But then the black ships had come, devastating the colony with their terrible bio-weapons. Soldiers had come to the farm to take them away. They were to be processed in to zombies to swell the vampire armies. Tears streaming from her eyes, Mama had hidden Zana in a secret compartment beneath the farmhouse. She made Zana promise to stay concealed until it was safe. Zana remembered she had cried a lot, but did as she was told. Zana knew how to follow orders, even then.
After that, her memories were fragmented. She hid in the darkness, listening to the shouts and screams of her parents. A vile stench seeped through the floorboards which later she learnt to attribute to ghouls. There had been the sound of blaster fire then silence, deep terrible silence.
She must have fallen asleep, because the next thing she remembered was climbing out of her hiding place. The farm was a blackened shell, and the land around it devastated and turned to dust. Stumbling out in to the harsh sun, she had started walking, with no idea of where she was going. Barefoot and starving, she had shuffled along waiting for death to claim her.
Then the Hunter had come. He found her in her dazed state and took her back to his ship. He told her his name was Drav, and he killed vampires. Zana didn’t know what a vampire was. No-one in the system knew what vampires were. Drav had laughed at that. It was a harsh, bitter sound. The vampires had killed her parents, he told her. They had killed everyone in her colony, and they were going to kill everyone in this part of space eventually.
When Zana had asked him why, Drav had been blunt and to the point. “Humans are their food.”
He’d taken her in to Brethren Space, the cluster of systems not yet under vampire control. On one of their monastery worlds she began a new life. She learned that the vampires had come from the Holy Planet, Earth, when the first settlers went out to colonise the stars. They were weak then, shadowy parasites lurking on the edge of human society. But they grew stronger, drinking the blood of their victims and marshalling their forces in secret across the colonised worlds. Soon, many humans began to venerate the vampires as gods. Secret cults were formed, working together to bring down the Galactic Government. Then the vampires developed necro-tech which bolstered their psychic powers and gave them the power to bring the dead back to life as obedient foot soldiers. When they were ready, they came out of hiding and all hell broke loose.
Humanity would have been wiped out there and then if it hadn’t been for the Brethren of Light. A secret society of vampire hunters, the Brethren had battled in the shadows to defeat the vile creatures before it was too late. When they failed to contain the menace, the Brethren marshalled together the surviving humans not loyal to the vampires, and formed a resistance. The vampire tide was halted, but not reversed. Since then, the war between the Brethren and the va
mpires had dragged on across the years and the systems.
Robbed of her family and her life, Zana nurtured a deep hatred for the vampires, and pledged herself to the Brethren. She wanted to become a Hunter like Drav, one of the men and women who assassinated vampires. At first, Drav had refused, but the Brethren saw potential in Zana. She had a brutal fanaticism to destroy the enemy and a natural resistance to psychic control. As she got older she blossomed in to a beautiful woman, another weapon in her arsenal. Drav had trained her as a Hunter and the Brethren trained her espionage. She became an assassin, posing as a courtesan to get close to vampire targets. She had charms and the power of sex and she used both ruthlessly to further the Brethren cause.
The sound of the elevator doors opening made her turn round. He was here. Her mind whirled with panic before she calmed herself. This was unprofessional, she told herself. The Archduke was no different from any other vampire she’d killed. But he was, it seemed, very lucky. He’d already survived five assassination attempts, three direct assaults and two seduction kills like this one.
Zana had known one of the girls involved in the failed attempt. Her name was Sula, and the Archduke had had her skinned alive, and pegged out in Baroque City’s main square to be scoured by the dust storms. When Zana had heard what he’d done, she’d volunteered straight away for the Brethren’s next strike.
She brushed her hands down her dress, and checked the silver ring on the third finger of her left hand. Inside the ruby set in the ring was a quarter of spectral dust, one of the rarest substances in the universe. It was harmless to humans, but if a vampire were to ingest it, it would result in complete cellular disintegration. The Archduke would be erased from existence without even the possibility of being resurrected by a necromancer. Even his twisted soul would be destroyed, denying him access to the spirit realm.
Zana fiddled with the ring, hoping it was as devastating as she’d been told. The Archduke had already had surgery making him immune to most poisons. His skin had also been treated with anti-sunlight nanobots allowing him to go outside in daylight and his heart was encased in a reality vault on another dimensional plane making staking him ineffective. Coupled with this, he possessed a host of psychic defences and was extremely versed in dark sorcery. It was no surprise he’d managed to survive so many attempts on his unlife.
But all that was going to change. Zana had never failed a mission yet, and she had no intention of doing so now. Her determination bolstered her, and she held her head up as the doors to the outer reception hall opened and the Archduke strode in.
He was tall and slender, and almost ridiculously good looking. His smooth skin was porcelain white and his features were boyish and perfectly formed. His onyx black hair was cut short and sculpted in to an exaggerated quiff, and he could easily be mistaken for a callow teenager barely in to manhood, if it wasn’t for his deep-set eyes. They were glacial blue and Zana seemed to see his great age reflected in their pitiless depths. As he swung them on her, Zana felt a shudder run through her.
She dipped her head and curtsied. “My liege.”
“You are the new girl,” his voice weaved silk-soft spider webs in the air. “You’re pretty.”
Zana was disarmed by the compliment. “Thank you, my liege,” she stammered.
“Call me Orin,” he said brusquely. “I hate all that hierarchy shit.”
“Thank you,” Zana said, startled again, “Orin.”
The vampire fell silent, examining her with his ancient eyes. Zana made herself stay perfectly still and look subservient. Sweat began to prickle between her shoulder-blades.
When the silence had become almost unbearable, Orin abruptly said, “My Mistress of Concubines tells me you’re a very good fuck.”
Zana felt herself colouring as she recalled the ‘selection process’ to join the Archduke’s harem. She’d had to fuck two of the guards while the Mistress watched. She been expected to perform a variety of acts to ensure she’d be able to please the vampire. The session had been hard and at times brutal, but she must have done a good job because she was approved by the Mistress. It wasn’t the first time she’d had to do such things to get close to a target. She prided herself on being able to detach her mind from the physical unpleasantness of her task.
“Thank you,” she said for a third time, not sure where this was going. “I live only to serve you,” she added.
Orin snorted, and Zana tensed up. Usually vampires didn’t bother conversing with their concubines. They wanted to sate whatever depraved desires they had then feed. Zana had hoped to slip him the poison before they got started, but his manner had unsettled her. She tried to put her plan back on track.
“Would you care for some refreshment Orin?” She gestured to the decanter nearby. The crystal had been specially treated to stop the blood inside from drying.
Orin shook his head. “No. Undress me.”
Zana blinked at him. The vampire held out his arms. He was clad in a figure hugging outfit of black and gold that accentuated the contours of his lean, toned body. Zana had been trying hard to suppress the spark of attraction she had felt on seeing him. Like all vampires, he could not be captured on recording devices so this was the first time she’d actually seen him. There had been a physical description of the Archduke in his file, along with an image of his painted portrait, but neither did him justice.
“Don’t just stand there staring at my cock,” he snapped when she didn’t respond straight away. “Undress me!”
Remembering herself, Zana came forward to comply. Her fingers brushed across the soft fabric of his outfit, sending tingles of sensation along her nerves. Excitement flared in her chest and travelled down to her groin. She felt her breathing quicken and hoped he hadn’t noticed the change in her behaviour. Orin stood as still as a statue though, staring straight ahead.
With fingers trembling a little, she got to work undoing the labyrinth of straps, zippers and buttons holding the outfit together. It took her a while, but Orin didn’t seem bothered and eventually she began to make head way. Slowly but surely, she began to unpeel the clothing revealing underneath acres of alpine white flesh.
As she stripped him, the heat of her arousal increased. Unlike many vampires, Orin hadn’t given himself over to cybernetic implants or flesh warping, so retained his human form, albeit with obvious cosmetic improvements to give him a look of near angelic perfection. She felt an overwhelming urge to stroke the sculpted muscles of his torso. As she pulled down his leggings, his large cock popped out, soft and inviting.
“What do you think?” he suddenly asked as she slipped off his boots.
She flinched guiltily, and looked away from his manhood. “I’m sorry, what?”
“My body,” said Orin, sounding impatient. “What do you think of it?”
Zana swallowed, and tried to think of a suitable reply. “You are very handsome, Orin.”
“Do you want to fuck me?” he asked in his brusque manner. “Do you find me attractive?”
She wished the answer was an emphatic no. She truly wished she didn’t find him so alluring, but desire pumped through her, sparking the heat in her cunt. “I seek only to please you,” she said, trying to sound subservient.
“Ha! You would prefer to kill me, more like.”
Zana froze. Did he know what she really was? Was he toying with her? She looked at him, wary and alert, but he seemed to be gazing out of the window. “Fold my clothes neatly,” he said. “Then bring the oil from the cabinet.”
Feeling a deep sense of relief, she busied herself with the task he’d given her. When she’d got the oil jug he’d wanted, he was lying face down on the bed. “I have a very good ass,” he said. “Wouldn’t you agree?”
“Yes, Orin,” she mumbled.
“The strains of leadership hang heavy on me,” he went on. “Be good enough to massage my body.”
Zana fought down another flush of desire, and poured some oil on to her hands and dribbled some on to his back. Her heart flu
ttered like a caged bird in her chest as she reached out to touch him. He felt unsurprisingly warm and pleasant and standing over him, she began to feel a sense of pleasure as she slowly massaged the muscles along his back.
“Yes,” he sighed. “That’s it.”
She rubbed him with practiced ease. Drav always loved her massages, and she enjoyed giving them. Orin seemed to melt beneath her touch, losing himself in the bliss of relaxation. The ruby in her ring glinted at her, and she thought about offering again to pour him a drink. He might take her up on the offer, before things became more intimate. With a shock, she realised that might not be such a bad thing if they did become more intimate.
“Where are you from?” he asked her.
“Ortis V,” Zana replied, reciting her cover story. “I was a slave in the Peacock Temple before your household purchased me.”
“What’s your name?” he asked as she rubbed his thighs. They were firm and powerful beneath her hands.
“Kanyu,” she said.
“Kanyu,” the name sounded beautiful in his cultured, elegant voice. “Kanyu the concubine. No. You don’t strike me as being a Kanyu.”
Zana tensed again. Was her cover blown? she wondered franticly. She looked about for some kind of weapon, but knew it was pointless. Even if she found something suitable, Orin was immune to any kind of physical harm. The poison was the only sure way of success.
“That’s my name,” she replied as calmly as she good. Her hands moved down to his slender feet, and he made little noises of approval as she ran her thumb along the length of each sole in turn.
“No,” he said after a while. “It’s not your name.”
Zana stopped massaging him. She gauged the distance to the doors. Even if she got to the elevator beyond, he’d have activated the security ghouls. “I’m afraid my liege’s wit is too sharp for me,” she said, making her voice sound suitably meek and pathetic. “My name is Kanyu. I have no other.”
