Stripped

by Stoke, Christina

  “You’re mine,” I breathe deeply. “Say it.”

  “I’m yours, Ry,” she moans. “Oh yes, baby, I’m yours.”

  “Get on your hands and knees,” I command. Tallie looks at me wondering what I am going to do next. The excitement of not knowing is quivering through her body. The fact that I can have her anyway I want her, throbs in the base of my cock, as I watch her crawl up on her hands and knees for me with her butt facing me. “You are going to beg for this big cock, baby.”

  “Ry,” she gasps, looking over her shoulder at me. “Please!”

  “You want me to fuck you?”

  “Oh god yes. Please, Ry.” Tallie’s plump sweet ass begins to wiggle. “Please, Ry. Please!”

  “Tell me what a naughty slut you are. Beg for my big cock.”

  “Oh! Oh hh, I’m so naughty, Ry. I want your hard cock, baby.” Her ass wriggles more. “Oh, oh, fuck your naughty slut, baby, please.”

  I’ve never been so turned on. I’d caution myself to slowness, but damn, I can’t. Tallie has picked me. Tallie wants me. Hell, she’s begging, like a sexy hot cunt, for me. “Oh yeah,” I utter as I grasp her swinging hips and pull her to me, making her knees crawl backward. My dong is straight and rigid, and my hands are full of her ass.

  “Oh hh,” she squeals as I fit the head of my dick to her grasping hole. The heat of her cunt is burning on the slit as I lubricate the head with her thick pussy juices, while she eagerly humps back. “Fuck me, Ry! Please!” she cries, when I hold her just where I want her, but not where she wants to go, and that is skewered on my dong. I play first, making her wiggle her buttocks right under my nose. Her cunt flushes more and puffs out wider, as I poke the head of my cock in an inch, then I pull it back out again, while watching each little fuck into her. “Ooo, baby, Please!” she gasps, as she goes down onto her elbows lifting her cunt higher to me and spreading her knees wider. It’s a purely arousing submissive position.

  I swing my hips and feel every inch of my cock pushing her vagina open to gain entrance. Her inner walls are taut, but dripping wet, as I stretch them, making Tallie wail passionately. The feverish inside of her sheath rasps along the column of my cock, making me groan.

  “I’m going to fuck you,” I utter as I begin pulling, then pushing Tallie’s body back and forth, taking more of her cunt with each slide of my cock easing the way. My thumb reaches upward and I begin playing with her asshole. She goes wild then, humping back onto me harder, as I fondle her butt hole, and stroke more of my thick erection inside her. “Rub your clit, Tallie,” I order hoarsely. “Rub it hard, baby.”

  “Yes! Yes,” she mewls at me, bringing her hand up between her thighs to finger her clit. Just then, I plunge, but it doesn’t enter her more than two more inches. “Oh! Oh! Oh!” Tallie screams, while her cunt churns wildly over my cock. She’s climaxing, but I don’t even let her breathe as I withdraw my cock and force it forward again, dragging her hips up to me, to get a good solid half penetration. But it’s so good and I’m so deep into my kink, I barely notice it’s not all the way in.

  “Aaah,” I groan.

  Tallie’s pussy climaxing over my cock, repeatedly contracting and tightening, is driving me crazy as I begin to slap her ass and fuck her, while I hold her down. This position is primitive and fulfilling as I rock my hips taking my woman’s cunt, while she screams her pleasure.

  And this is just the beginning I pray, as my cum shoots deeply inside the woman I love.

  Aww, hell.........

  The End.

  Read an excerpt from the next full (41,000 word) erotic novella in this series,

  by Christina Stoke

  "Her Captain's Command 2: Hunted"

  Available now

  Oh. Something touched me. I jerk awake like I have half a dozen times before. Trying to make me, Tallie Rousseau, real.

  My legs are straight as I lie on my back, but they're spread open widely. I am naked; of course, Captain Ry Boa wants me naked when I sleep with him. My breasts are bared to the silvery-blue alien moon above me. My nipple tips are tight and protruding from the cold. It is the cold that's made them taut and aching, isn't it? And, I wonder why I'm not curled against Ry beneath the foil heat-retaining blanket as my body trembles with more than cold. What is it? What is wrong with me? Why am I lying stretched out naked on my back uncovered and quivering with the feelings of being aroused?

  I try to catch my rapid breath and that's when I realize I'm panting. I can feel the drench of arousal wetting my sex, its lips and deeper. I catch a hard breath. I'm so certain something was plucking my nipples just before I woke up. I know it! It's crazy, but . . . I know it.

  It's Ry. It has to be. What else could it be? This is some sexual power game he is manipulating on me in my sleep. He's so powerful he wants to consume me, and mold me, even in my sleep. However, when I dare turn my head to look at him I can see he is laying on his side beneath the foil. He's three feet from me with his back to me.

  Suddenly I catch a scent in the chilly night air, a cloying fragrance I've never smelled before. It's so heavy around me it clings to my inhaling breath, coating my tongue like menthol vapor. My nude body shudders violently with fear and I think about moving. . . jerking away. Yet somehow, I know that I can't. The odor makes me think of aggressive intentions, menacing curiosity, and lewd fornicating.

  "Jesus," I gasp, but the sound I'm able to make is a whisper filtering through my throat filled with the heavy odor. God, I never think words like that. Where did it come from? Fornicating? I cannot believe that word is in my mind, and I'm not certain if I cannot move on my own or if I cannot move because something won't let me.

  "Tallie Rousseau, just get up. This is ridiculous," I mutter sharply to myself. I know I'm not use to military things, survival methods, or being stuck on an alien planet with no hope of rescue. I'm even less used to being the sexual slave to a man. However, that's just what I am. Still, I tell myself there's nothing holding me stretched out on the ground, except my vivid imagination. Then suddenly the vapor disappears and I tell myself it is because I am moving, rolling onto my side, then on my belly.

  I nearly screech as my gaze latches onto the piercing blue irises of Ry's gaze. How could he move so quickly, because now he is lying on his side facing me? I'm panting and naked on my belly with my long hair falling wildly around me.

  Ry sits slowly with the sinew of his bare chest rippling with his movements. His sharp gaze glances around, then it slowly returns to me. "Are you in heat?" he utters with a quiet, damning voice.

  I instantly whimper at the accusation and harshness. Ry never makes any pretenses about his lust for me. It's more than just a man's desire for a woman. It's animalistic . . . and base. More primitive than my simple mind can comprehend. It makes me believe I'm writhing naked on my belly in heat for him. Just as his gaze and the set of his sharp angled face, tell me.

  He sneers at me, and then he commands, "Crawl." His voice is low and his tone is irrevocable.

  There is a myriad of meanings interwoven into that command. Ones that make my pussy throb, while others flash through me with embarrassment. The fact my living or dying, that my surviving on this alien planet is completely in his hands, could be the reason I consider it. Or it could be my reasons are as primitive as Ry's lust for me. It could be vanity.

  The fact that a man like Captain Ry Boa could even want me . . . still blows my mind. That he finds me attractive and wants to fuck me, to take me in ways that are beyond my imagination, is so hard for me to continue believing, I constantly search for other reasons. Hell, I am just drab Tallie Rousseau, humdrum and shy. I'm just a plain-Jane wallflower.

  Well, I used to be, and damn it; it's still a part of me. That's why I want to crawl, because it turns Ry on. But . . . it turns me on more. The places Ry wants to take me has no questions of why, there is only attraction and lust. It has no need for me to try, and then fail to take the incentive. It just is . . . beneath his command. The fact it's his command proves s
omething to me I've always longed for, but been unable to find by myself. It proves my worth.

  Strange, I'm still not close to figuring it out. Although, somewhere so deep inside I'm afraid to acknowledge it, I want to crawl for Ry. To Ry. Because I hunger for him more than I hunger for any man, I could ever imagine. He must sense this connection and it excites him, makes him aroused to look at me, his sexual creature.

  There are ideals inside me that clash my upbringing against primal instincts, as I rise on my hands and knees with my breasts drawn downward, swaying. Twinges ingrained against crawling that flash through me. I feel the helplessness of not having a choice; knowing I would receive stinging punishment from Ry's hand against my ass if I disobey his command. It quivers through my body.

  The pain Ry enjoys inflicting on me, the suffering that's become so intermingled with inflamed pleasure, still unhinges me with confusion. How could being held under his painful control arouse me and make me feel more helplessly feminine? It cannot . . . Yet deep within that connection, I fight that part of Ry's lust. I fight my own reactions to it while his marks burn my flesh, and in the aftermath, my pussy becomes sopping wet with the wild hunger to be fucked. I cannot comprehend how I could accept it, yet still I will crawl to him because the female I am hungers for all the powerful strength and sexuality that's his.

  The ground is rough. Small rocks and twigs sting my knees and palms as I crawl forward toward Ry with my long hair swaying around me, trailing on the ground. I feel like Ry wants me to feel; like a slut in heat who is crawling toward the cock she worships. That is raw, honest, and blindingly real.

  Ry forces me to that agonizing truth repeatedly.

  I am looking through my eyes, Ry's eyes, but I know I'm no longer the tough-ass strident Captain commanding men that I used to be. That man I knew before never delved this deep into deviant acts. I will admit I wanted to. I just never allowed myself too. Hell, I never found a woman I thought I could do it with.

  Much of it, I know, is the unique circumstances. For both of us. The unlikelihood of either of us making it off this planet has sealed it. Maybe a last hurrah for me. Going out without any regrets. It certainly makes it easier for me to jump the walls of my, before tightly held, restrictive morals.

  Control is the key to my existence. It always has been. It allows me to function somewhat normally around people and in society, especially military society. I've never done well in civilian society, but I control the anger that's always buried deep inside me. It's a Variants curse, that anger. All Variants have it in different degrees. They have to. It is the righteous anger of being made different and feeling it every day of our existence. I might have had a chance, had I not lived through the Variant Slave Era . . . before they set us free.

  Unfortunately, I was born in a test-tube. Incubated at eighteen accelerated years old, then forced right into military training, and at the time, with a pain chip implanted into my skull, in case I thought my way was better. Variants were created to be soldiers or menial laborers used on dangerous jobs that natural born humans were too privileged to do. Variants were created to die in the place of natural born humans.

  Rage can ferment easily under those circumstances, yet I know logically this rage built of injustice is a waste of time. After all these years, I have learned the only way to live with the prejudices that thrives in humans is through logic. Logically superior skills at whatever I do.

  It helps that I now command and demand respect in my position in the military. It was hard earned. War is my niche. I know it's the allure of power, because the powerful can command more respect. I try not to analyze it too much. I have a few creeds. Do the job better than anyone else does, don't take bullshit, but don't look for it either, and do not fuck any more natural born women.

  Christ, I messed that last one up. Tallie is pure bred, sweet meat, natural born pussy. Even the base, primitive words I use in my thoughts surprise me. I'd been aloof and curt to most women, but I'd never allowed myself to think of them as slick hot cunts as I do now. It's some product of my own recent making and I'm not going to apologize for it. I think I might, this time, allow myself to revel in it. Why the hell not, there is nothing to lose now. No one will ever see these new perverse actions or find out.

  I have one goal left after that. Time is short unless I find food and definitely water. Tallie and I need to find an alien communications hub on this hostile planet and she needs to download the MAXI search and destroy program into it. Being able to accomplish that mission will help save countless military lives, and I must keep her alive until she can do it.

  Keeping her alive has nothing to do with her slinking on her hands and knees toward me like a naked fuck-me-toy. It's more than fucking every sweet ripe hole she has. It's the control, I'm holding over her that's swelling my genetically enhanced dick to its sneering length. A club between my tough thighs. This command I can enforce over Tallie, these edged sadistic pleasures I've rarely acknowledged my entire life, those are what do more than turn me on. They feed me.

  I'd be worried about being able to control them once let loose like this. The power is . . . unexpected. I'm not sure I could rein it back now and bring it under control. But it doesn't matter; I'll never have to before I die. Die here on this scrubby slate-strewn planet with its purple-tinted skies, alien machines, and aliens no human has ever seen before.

  That is another goal, I will add, to see one of the aliens before I die. It's my last contemplative thought before I grasp a fistful of Tallie's long thick hair.

  Read a rough excerpt from, "Vampire Lords of Blacknall: Trinity"

  by Shirl Anders.

  (Coming Soon from Allure Books) it is a vampire regency

  Romance Novel with Erotic Elements.

  RNEE.

  Trinity caught the flashes of alabaster skin off to the left and in front of where he ran through the brambles. The woman’s screaming had stopped many minutes ago and he had to guess the foul beast hunting her had nearly run her to ground.

  He veered his headlong sprint towards the glimpses of pale flesh he kept catching sight of through thickly grouped trees surrounded by scattered bushes. His timing to reach the young woman before the vile monster leaped to kill her was too close to think he’d make it. The threatening roar he released was of a madden vampire reverberating through the night air. The abhorrence would recognize his thundering challenge.

  He heard the woman cry out . . . in pain this time. Instantly he smelled blood, as he bellowed, “No!” Then his large body crashed through a small opening in the foliage.

  He realized to late that he was moving much to fast to halt his forward motion, when suddenly the woman was there . . . as if pushed forward toward his unchecked momentum. He only had seconds to react and he grasped her against his body. Her long black hair whipped around them as he turned to take the brunt of an inevitable fall. He landed on his back with the woman piled on top of him. Then he heard the triumphant howl of escape from the foul beast fading into the distance.

  Trinity held tight to the voluptuously young woman as he arched his back and he shouted his anger at losing his chance to kill the abhorrence. “I will find you!” he bellowed. “I have your scent!”

  He became aware of the woman screaming as she thrashed on top of him. But more powerful than her ineffectual attempts at breaking his hold, while she screamed shrilly into his ear, was the cloud scent of her fresh blood choking him.

  His savage and barely controlled inner hunter leaped to life. Fangs ravenous for pure virgin's blood pumping out of cuts somewhere on her struggling body extended past his lips like twin lances. Before he had any hope of exerting his willpower over the sudden monstrous cravings, his body turned, flipping the woman onto her back. He landed, pouncing over her with his fangs ready to strike as the veins in his body throbbed for the blood he could smell.

  Why was her blood so fucking potent?

  The animalistic snarl that lunged from his throat clashed with the woman’s frightened
sobs as her wide eyes gazed up at him in horror. Her small hands pounded against his upper chest and shoulders as her bare hips and legs thrashed trying to push his body off her. His hard cock beneath his britches pounded for her submission and ordered his hips forward to press the rigid length down into her soft center, crushing her lower body’s struggle to a halt.

  The woman whimpered in fear. Then she cried, “Oh no! Oh no!”

  The strangled animalistic sound he made choked the woman’s cried words into panting silence. It was as if she believed halting any motion would make the vicious animal set to strike her miss.

  Beth could not stand the predator’s gaze of yellow eyes with red glints slashed in the centers. She whimpered with sheer terror, jerking her gaze to the side, clenching her eyelids. She’d seen the long white fangs and she'd heard the animalistic snarls that came from the beast surely set to kill her. First, a monster hunted her and now another apparition held her captive. Yet the powerful menace against her felt like a man with hands, arms, legs, and a heavy chest. She felt men's trousers along her bare legs, and she felt a jacket fallen open over her breasts. Was it a man?

  Why did it not strike, her mind wailed, as her breathing heaved. Was this the beast that chased her? She’d thought not. However, her questions and abject terror paled in comparison when she felt a hardened length pressing into her core . . . and what that foretold nearly caused her to fall into hysteria.

  “Don’t move!” The commanding voice was a tense baritone with the after effect of a growl.

  The appearance of human words so surprised her panic state that she jerked her gaze toward the sound as her body quaked in reaction. Had someone come to save her?

  “Don’t,” the beast above her commanded, "Move.”

  To hear the semblance of a human’s voice in the world gone so mad made her hopes flare unrealistically. But they did all the same. She wanted to live.