Women of Steel 3: Frozen Daiquiri
Camille Anthony

  

 All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2005 Camille Anthony

No part of this e-book may be reproduced or shared by any electronic or mechanical means, including but not limited to printing, file sharing, and email, without prior written permission from Changeling Press LLC.


 ISBN (10): 1-59596-148-8
ISBN (13): 978-1-59596-148-8
Formats Available:
HTML, Adobe PDF,
MobiPocket, Microsoft Reader

Publisher:
Changeling Press LLC
PO Box 1561
Shepherdstown, WV 25443-1561
www.ChangelingPress.com

Editor: Crystal Esau
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

  



  

 This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

  

  

  

 Chapter One

 Awakened to Captivity

  

 “How… long …”

 Damn, is that my voice?

 She cleared her throat and tried again. “Hel-lo?”

 Why are scratchy, hoarse sounds the only ones I can make?

 “She’s awake! Quick, go fetch Mason! Tell her the general spoke. Hurry up!”

 A gentle hand slipped under her neck, lifted her head. Blessedly cool, wet water dribbled down her parched throat. The delicious liquid spread out in every direction; dampening her organs and revitalizing her mouth and tongue. Suddenly, she was ravenous for more.

 Snatching the cup from the hovering presence, she lifted it to her mouth in a death grip, greedily guzzling the precious fluid. She swallowed as fast as she could, before the people surrounding her managed to pry the cup out of her resisting fingers.

 What were they doing? Why were they being so cruel? Can’t they see I’m dying of thirst ?

 “More!” Damn it, there she was, croaking again !

 “Easy, General… you don’t want to drink too fast. Your stomach can’t handle it. You’ll just throw it back up and that would be worse than not drinking at all.”

 She wanted to argue with the calm voice of reason, but already she could feel the water settling in a cold, heavy puddle at the bottom of her gut. When she tightened her stomach muscles, the liquid sloshed and rolled, making a gurgling sound she could hear through the wall of her skin.

 Sweat broke out on her forehead. Queasiness roiled in her belly, and she tried not to swallow as her mouth filled with saliva. She knew the signs… fought them. Her stomach muscles tightened in protest. A moan squeezed through her folded lips.

 “Uh, oh, I think she’s about to…”

 With a low groan, she flung herself over the side of the bed, gagging. All the water she’d ingested spewed out, mixed with bile. Thank the Weaver of the Matrix, there was nothing else in her stomach to bring up.

 “… hurl!”

 Wearily, she lay back, panting and feeling sick to her stomach. She hated puking with a passion. On top of that, she still craved water like a kraken craved blood, but she dared not try putting something else down her queasy belly now. It would only come right back up.

 “General, I want you to take a small sip of water.”

 She turned her head away from the cup that presented itself at her lips, refusing the possibility of a second round of nausea.

 She heard a smothered laugh. Her head snapped around. Teeth bared, she glared into the faces of the three women surrounding her. Not one of them betrayed by expression or glance which one of them had been insane enough to mock her pain.

 “I don’t want you to swallow it, sir. I can imagine how upset your tummy must be feeling about now. Just swish it around in your mouth and then spit it out in this bowl.”

 She stared at the speaker. Paula Mason, a corporal in the Planetary Repulsion Force. A crony of her mother’s, Paula was a woman she trusted. The tall older woman was thin as a rail and black as midnight. Close-cropped nappy curls rioted over her head, the fluffy gray mass resembling pristine bolls of cotton. Her spare frame didn’t have an ounce of fat on it, but her breasts still rode high and pert, as firm as those of a nineteen-year-old. She, like all the women she’d seen, was naked.

 Nodding to indicate her reluctant agreement, Daiq accepted the water, swished and spat on command. Her mouth did feel better for it. She worked her jaw a bit, loosening it in preparation of doing some major talking.

 “I’m weak as a kitten. I know I was injured, but not that badly. Have I been sick?”

 Mason nodded. “We all have been. There’s a nasty alien bug in the water. Two of us died before the Scarth came in and inoculated us. After that, none became as ill as you. You’ve been on the verge of death several times. Even with the vaccine, your weakened system almost lost the war.”

 “How long have I been out of it?” she asked, again.

 Mason sighed. “You were injured during the last minutes of the engagement. The Scarth carried you on board and dumped you among my group. We calculate we’ve been prisoners for more than a year. You were in their infirmary for most of that time. They just gave you back what seems a few weeks ago. It’s hard to keep track of time when the world you’re on doesn’t have twenty-four hour days.”

 “Our watches?”

 That gray head shook no. “Something about these caverns… Our batteries went haywire shortly after we arrived. Besides, the Scarth gathered up all our technological gadgets. We’ve been counting sunrises -- the ones we could see -- and sunsets. There’ve been entirely too many to keep track of. It didn’t help that the Scarth kept us in total darkness for the first segment of time after our arrival. We had no way of knowing how much time had elapsed.”

 “The other officers… where are they?”

 “I’m afraid you’re looking at the only remaining one, sir.” Mason sighed. “I don’t know about the other enclaves, but we had over three hundred prisoners in this camp at the beginning. The Scarth have systematically removed groups of women until we are down to slightly over two hundred.”

 Daiq frowned. “What are they doing with them? What do the women say when they return?”

 “Not one has ever returned. We have no way of knowing if they are dead or serving in another capacity. I suspect they are being used as lab rats. The Scarth have to be trying to find out as much about us as the folks back home are striving to discover about them.”

 Chewing on her bottom lip, Daiq considered the implications. “They’re not dead. It’s a psychological tactic -- leaves us guessing and demoralized. But I’m betting your hunch about them being guinea pigs is on the money. When did the first snatch take place?”

 “Right after everyone fell sick from the water.”

 “And before the inoculations?”

 “Yes. How could you know that?”

 Daiq snorted. “They discovered we’re not the same, despite nominal outward appearances. That bug in the water harming us like that probably threw them for a loop. They had to scramble to avert disaster.” She lowered her eyebrows. “Never think for a moment that we are here by accident. They need us for something. It’s our job to find out what that something is.”

 Sitting up, she threw off the covers and gingerly came to her feet. She swayed a bit before finding her balance. Once secure, she tottered over to the makeshift mirror -- a slab of wall evened and glossed by some force of nature shaping and molding its surface until it was a smooth, reflective surface. She peered at the wavering outline of her form, marveling at the changes a year had made.

 Always tall and spare, Daiq now appeared gaunt and emaciated. She’d never had abundant curves. Now, her breasts and hips seemed to have melted away. Her black hair was longer than she liked to wear it, the unruly curls frothing below her shoulders. She’d take care of that ASAP. Only her cool gray gaze remained familiar. Too big for her starved face, her mirrored eyes stared back with an aloof expression that had earned her the nickname Frozen Daiquiri.

 Her people thought she didn’t know what they called her behind her back. On the contrary… she not only knew of the title, she actively endorsed it. Emotion had no place in war. She’d found it had no place at all in her life.

 Daiq had been raised in a household that lived by strict Amazon rules. Her adult beliefs were shaped by her childhood memories. In Thalassic’s home, all the males were treated kindly, but definitely kept in their secondary place. Men were for pleasuring and, when the time was right, the fathering of daughters. They were too gentle for the brutal business of war.

 Daiq’s followers thought her cold because she never took a lover. Lovers were for peacetime and leisure, not to be indulged in during conflict. She knew better than to mix business with pleasure…

 Dissatisfied with what she’d seen, Daiq turned away and retreated back to bed. She looked as bad as she felt. There was no way anyone with sense would follow her lead while she appeared half dead, with one foot on a slimy banana peel. With a dejected sigh, Daiq crawled up on the soft material that made up her makeshift mattress and collapsed. She was still too weak. The first thing she had to do was regain her strength.

 “I’m going to take a nap. I want you to gather everyone whose rank is higher than an ensign. Don’t let me sleep past two hours. When I wake up, we’ll have a planning meeting.”

 The three women saluted.

 “I’ll see it done, General,” Mason promised. Her black face shone with militaristic zeal. “May I say how glad I am to have you on the mend and in command, again? We need better leadership than I’ve been providing.”

 One of the fem protested Paula’s humble disclaimer. “That’s not correct, sir! Corporal Mason has been wonderful!”

 “Glad to hear it.” Daiq waved a weary hand. “I would have been disappointed if I’d heard anything to the contrary. Dismissed.”

  

  

  

 Chapter Two

 Three Earth Years Later

  

 As darkness fell, what meager warmth the cave walls had absorbed from the small white sun leached rapidly away. Consequently, the increasing chill quickly rendered their prison dangerously uncomfortable.

 Their captors had taken them out today, to clean the caverns of their filth. She knew the real reason was to plant new visual and listening devices, which she and her soldiers would again destroy as soon as they found the new locations.

 Daiq Harmon was tired… bone tired of subterfuge, tired of being on duty twenty-four/seven -- or whatever the time frame on this world was…

 She rubbed her chilled arms, watching her people forming several small groups, huddling together to seek what warmth and comfort they could find in the close press of naked bodies.

 Once, they had been a group of officers and soldiers -- both men and women -- several companies serving together in the war against an alien enemy. Then the unthinkable had happened. Earth lost the first skirmish of the war. To her knowledge, three companies were taken captive.

 Every male had been dispatched with cold-blooded efficiency upon detainment. Only females had been herded aboard space craft and shuffled off to an unknown destination.

 After she’d recovered from her wounds and subsequent illness and found herself on what she believed to be one of the Scarth home worlds, Daiq -- the ranking command officer -- had paired the women off two-by-two, for safety. They’d started out with over three hundred prisoners. Her company was now down to seventy-six, not counting herself.

 The remaining small group had evolved into one big family, becoming the closest of friends. Some within the group had found committed lovers. Only General Daiquiri Harmon remained spiritually and sexually solitary.

 She could not pair with one of the women for fear of the others claiming unfair favoritism and none of the other squad leaders had survived the latest skirmish. She missed Paula Mason’s bolstering presence. The older woman had been taken after the last uprising. Now, there was no one to share the load of responsibility. Fate, or the Goddess, or whatever the Higher Power was manifesting Itself as today, had decreed she stand alone.

 As the commanding officer of all the imprisoned soldiers, it was up to her to maintain morale and ethical prisoner interactions. She did it in the only way she knew how -- the way her mother had taught her -- by personal example. She hoped she did it right…

 “General Harmon, are you certain it will be tonight?”

 The question, asked by her second-in-command in a trembling voice, hung heavy in the air. Every woman anxiously awaited the answer.

 Daiquiri Harmon’s troops turned to her, their upturned faces fearful, seeking reassurance. She lowered her head, unwilling for them to see her lack of hope.

 With a heart-sick sigh, she wished the situation would just go away, but she knew better.

 There was no one else to take the burden of leading these women. From somewhere -- she had no idea from where -- she gathered her resolve and dredged up words of comfort; something… anything to help them face the coming ordeal.

 She sighed and straightened her shoulders, angry and impatient with herself. This wasn’t the time to wallow in self-pity. All-in-all, she was relatively lucky. Since being captured and incarcerated by the enemy, a lot of her soldiers -- those women who had already been separated out and sent to the upper chambers -- had probably experienced more horror than they could cope with.

 With that reminder uppermost in her mind, she spoke gently. “They will more than likely come tonight. It’s been thirty sunrises since they last took prisoners out of the caverns. If they stay on the schedule we’ve noted, they should come tonight or tomorrow.” She took a deep breath. “It doesn’t matter when they come, though. We’ll be ready for the bastards. Whatever happens, we will face it together, as soldiers and strong women. We’ll make them pay in blood and pain for every one of us they manage to snatch.”

 Someone moaned, began rocking herself, chin tucked tight against her chest. Her partner wrapped her arms around the shaking woman, giving silent encouragement.

 Daiq tightened her lips. Raising her knees to her chest, she looped her arms about her lower legs and rested her head in her lap. She focused on her plans, trying to block out the sounds of misery and fear rising about her. Inside, where no one could see, she mourned for the women under her command. But she didn’t cry. What would be the use? Tears hadn’t stopped the atrocities visited on the chosen women, those taken from the others over the years. Tears wouldn’t stop the Scarth from whatever they planned for tonight.

 Spending one fortifying moment in prayer to the Weaver of the Matrix of Life, Daiquiri unfolded her long limbs and came to her feet in a smooth, effortless move as graceful as one a prima ballerina might make. She dusted the fine grit of the cave floor off her hands and fisted them at her hips.

 “All right, gentlefem soldiers, listen up!”

 Silence rippled out from her, the quiet spreading from rung to rung of seated females.

 “We’re spending way too much time today cowering in fear, and not enough training and preparing for a fight. We’re still at war! Don’t think for a moment my mother, General Thalassic, isn’t waging an all-out campaign against these invaders on the home-front. Are we going to let her down?”

 The roar of denial echoed off the cavern walls.

 “Training is fine, but what can we do without any means of hurting these monsters, General?”

 “We have no weapons! We’re helpless!”

 “No, we’re not!” Daiq snarled, confronting the timid women. “We have brains! We have grit and determination! We have the will to survive. And we have the peace in knowing that if we go down fighting, we still win because we’ve taken the enemies’ prizes from them.”

 Her mouth firm, she faced her troops. “So we train. We keep in tip-top condition. We stay ready to fight. On your feet, soldiers… give me three laps! As you run, keep an eye out for the locations of the digi-eyes and ears. Search and destroy.”

 As the last woman jogged by, Daiq fell into place behind her, whispering encouragement and offering unobtrusive assistance. Tara had been injured during the battle on Earth, taking a laser blast to the back of her left calf, which caused her ongoing pain and some instability while running.

 Running along the cavern walls beside her soldiers, Daiquiri paced herself so she didn’t overrun the weaker ones or discourage the ones falling behind the others. As she ran, she questioned her insistence in putting her people through their training routine. What was the use of exercising other than keeping her women warm? The Scarth certainly were never going to allow them the chance at weapons and without them, there was no way to overpower their captors.

 Watching her breath fog on the cold air, Daiquiri admitted that warmth was one important factor to her strategy. Her small company faced the very real possibility of freezing to death during the long, cold nights. Without clothing, they struggled to stay warm. Exercise was a great blood heater.

 She made them run two more laps, watching all the time for those unable to perform at peak fighting ability. Relief washed through her as she noted only Tara was having difficulties, and she was compensating nicely for the weak leg.

 Clapping her hands together, Daiq called, “Hand-to-hand, folks -- and not with your living-partner!” She ignored the groans and mutterings.

 “Your partner knows your strategies, can sense your weaknesses, but beyond that, you will have a tendency to pull your punches, lighten your blows. I don’t want you engaging your lover. I want you practicing to engage your enemy.”

 Offering advice and sometimes rebuke, Daiq chivvied her people into stretching themselves, reaching for their best. “We will give the Scarth a surprise this time! They’re expecting sheep -- they’ll find wolves.”

  

  

  

 Chapter Three

 Lab One

  

 After extensive experimentation, the Scarth scientists were still learning about their Hoomun captives’ biology.

 It seemed the Hoomuns were infertile. They had placed female after female with known fertile males. Not one had taken. All the tests showed the Hoomuns and the Scarth should be able to inter-breed with only minor manipulation. After all, they were of the same base genetic material. The manipulations had been done to the females, yet over one hundred failed actual matings proved the lab tests had to be wrong.

 Breen’s antennae drooped. He knew this latest report would disappoint the queens. If the Hoomun females were infertile, as were all their own females, barring the queens, then half the argument for conquering that green and blue world became moot. It was dire news, and he, for sure, didn’t want to be the one to reveal it to the beleaguered queens.

 Still, if the females were neuters, perhaps the queens would consent to giving him -- an infertile male -- the dark female with the cushiony white hair. His root stood erect whenever he interacted with her and that had never happened before. Her exotic coloring and sleek curves called to him, even as her sharp wit enraptured him. And when he’d watched the breeder, Aton, mount her, listened to her cries of passion, seen her body convulse in frenzied completion… his carapace had snapped into place just in time to shield his uncontrollable response as his root jettisoned his useless seed. Guilt filled him over how glad he was that this particular mounting had failed. He knew how desperately his people needed to mate with these Hoomuns.

 Yet… why run the risk of being refused? She’d failed the test and normally would be assigned to a high-ranking soldier as a sand-slave. But what if she had some condition that rendered her unsuitable? He could do that; manufacture an obscure ailment that would keep her in the labs with him. She was just one in over two hundred. Surely they wouldn’t miss this one. The only one he wanted…

  

  

  

 Chapter Four

 In the Hall of the Mountain Queens

  

 “The scientists’ report is disturbing.”

 The aging Senior queen, her silvery carapace drawn up and back in precise formation, lay in the birthing cradle, legs splayed. The skin of her distended belly rippled from the strong movements of the infant within as the child fought to win free of its fleshy prison.

 “The Hoomun females are no more fertile than our own daughters.”

 “I am not surprised,” the third senior among them admitted. “They are a people without queens. They are clearly inferior.”

 As she spoke, her thin blue carapace snapped in and out of her back. A deplorable sign of weakness, the Senior queen noted, frowning, delicate antennae waving. “I wouldn’t know about that…”

 “What?” Beta queen glanced up from where she lay on her couch and waved her consort away. He obediently drew out of her and backed up, root dripping with pre-cum, to stand at attention behind her lounger. “You believe these people to be equal to us… or perhaps superior?”

 “Senior couldn’t possibly mean that, Beta!” Quint, the fifth queen, exclaimed. The horror in her voice spoke volumes about her naiveté.

 Senior struggled to keep her shell in position, too experienced to injudiciously reveal her irritation. She must remember that the young were intemperate and not very good conversationalists. “I am not sure they are without queens.” She lifted her voice and issued a command. “Hall Brain, show the records entitled ‘possible queen’.”

  

 Recording on…

  

 Pictures of the Hoomun captives, led by a tall black-haired female, streamed against the wall. Over and over, the cameras picked up the female helping one person, or commanding another. Gradually, a cohesive picture formed, a pattern emerged. All action flowed from this one person like ripples in sand from the concentric center… including the irritating, crippling uprisings that had increased more and more over the turns and took an increasing amount of their soldiers to quell. The uprisings also ate into their resources. The innovative alien thinker had managed to set the fall crops on fire the last time.

 “Who is that? These are the records from the last five turns?” Beta sat up and pulled a wrap over her lower body, covering her wet, swollen sex. “We’ve held these prisoners for over ten turns. Why do the records of this Hoomun begin at the last five turns and not from the beginning?”

 “She came to us injured and ill. The doctors did not think she would survive, but her people became distressed and belligerent when they moved her. They didn’t settle down again until the doctors returned her to the caverns.” Senior looked pensive. “That should have told us something.”

 Shifting in the cradle, Senior paused to push. The baby moved further down the birthing channel.

 “Less than a quarter turn after her recovery, the first successful uprising took place. The Hoomuns made it all the way to the lower labs, stole some equipment and even captured a male.”

 An admiring smile hovered about Senior’s lips. “The females fucked him to within an inch of his life before tossing him back out of the caverns. It looked to me like everyone had a piece of him… everyone but the new leader. She didn’t touch the male. Obviously, she holds herself in as high esteem as we do ourselves. Like her, we would never condescend to mate with a lowly captive.” Her antennae angled toward the others as she said, “This Hoomun’s accomplishments are quite impressive, don’t you think? In a relatively short time, she’s caused us more trouble than all the other captives since their imprisonment began.”

 “I think she’s dangerous,” Beta muttered, turning on her back and opening her legs. “Come.”

 She beckoned to her favorite consort and adjusted her body for maximum penetration. She then turned her head to address her sister queens and continued speaking as he crawled between her legs and began humping. “We should separate her from the rest of the prisoners before she manages to incite the others to greater violence.”

 The queens all nodded their assent.

 Blue shell spoke up. “I don’t understand why the females are so angry. We placed them in the coolest caverns we could find so they would feel at home. We keep them fed, watered… what more could they want?”

 “Perhaps they miss males. Even our nulls enjoy the sting of intercourse.”

 Senior was surprised when Odlae, the second-most junior of the queens, spoke up. “What you say could have merit, youngling.” She chuckled, remembering. “They certainly attacked that hapless male with enthusiasm. His poor root was totally wilted when they finished with him and threw him out.”

 Beta grinned. “The recordings were humorous. I screamed with laughter at the look on his face when some of the females breached his fudor with a thick stick! He must have liked it, though, for it certainly brought his stinger out!”

 She turned her attention back to the fucking she was receiving. Bringing her hands up and tweaking her nipples, she glanced up at her servant’s contorted face. “You’re not trying hard enough! Faster,” she ordered, “deeper!”

 There was an edge of anger in her voice. She pushed up into the male’s strong thrusts, panting a little. “Where’s your stinger? Faugh! Pull out of me, sand-mite! I’ll never get a girl child with a lackadaisical fucking like this one!”

 Smirking, Blue shell offered, “Try mine, Beta. He’s a White Ridge feral and a true devil in the sands!”

 Senior watched the exchange, not surprised to see Beta’s antennae twitch as she narrowed her eyes in consideration. Beta loved rough sand time, and she was obviously tempted by the offer. She decided to throw her opinion into the mix.

 “Take him, Beta. I’m close to my time and bored. I’d like the entertainment of seeing him pound you into the grit.” Senior smiled at her eldest daughter. “Besides, you know you want it. Your nipples are already stabbing the air and you couldn’t even rouse them in the midst of that last fuck. Lie back and open your legs… we’ll both enjoy it.”

 Beta ran her eyes over the hulking male standing behind Blue’s couch. He was one of the fifty males that had attended Blue upon her arrival. His thick black root rose under her hot gaze, just the very tip of his stinger visible, the sharp point protruding past the end of the fat glans. She licked her lips. “What will I owe you for the loan?” Her voice was breathy with growing arousal.

 “I’m breeding right now and don’t want a fuck.” Blue shell tapped her lips. “Tell you what, since Senior requests it, as a gift to her, I’ll just use your discard for the hour. He can suck my honey while we watch you enjoy a real male’s attentions.”

 Senior’s antennae tingled. She kept her carapace high, held stiffly, kept her lips tight so the laugh wouldn’t leak out. Blue shell was a swapped queen. In her own hive, she’d been in line to take second place. Here, she knew she would never ascend above Beta’s status as second queen, so she used every opportunity to goad and snipe at the more senior queen.

 “Done!” Beta turned to her servant. “Go to her.”

 Blue caught her servant’s eye and inclined her head toward Beta. “Prove your worth!”

 Glancing at Senior with a wink, Blue shell smiled at Beta. “Remember, he’s feral. I’ve allowed him to retain his wild tendencies because it amuses me. He dominates naturally. Your Queen status means nothing to him.”

 Beta shivered, sitting up straighter. The male loomed over her couch, the wide expanse of naked skin a shining dense black with circling bands of bright yellow. “He’s well marked.”

 Blue chuckled. “Better yet, he never fails to sting!”

 The fertile male stepped up to Beta’s couch and fisted his root with one large hand. Standing before her, he aimed his length toward her mouth. When she didn’t move, he stepped closer, gripped his root in his hand and slapped her sharply on the cheek with his stiff erection.

 The sound of his meaty flesh meeting her face rang loudly in the chamber, making the queens jump. Beta gasped, shocked that a male would issue such suggestive violence toward her. Antennae laid back, she brought a hand up and cupped her burning cheek, glancing over to her mother in confusion.

 Senior inhaled deeply, cunt rippling as she viewed the male’s aggressive actions. “They obviously have different mounting practices in White Ridge. Give him what he wants, child. Take his root in your mouth.”

 Beta stared at her mother in shock. “In my mouth? But his stinger is out!”

 Plainly tired of waiting, the male grabbed the short hair at the base of Beta’s neck and yanked her head back. Her mouth fell open, and he stuffed his root inside, forcing it to the back of her throat. She gurgled, audibly gagging as he surged deeper, pushing his thick length into her.

 The male’s hips surged back and forth, fucking Beta’s mouth with focused determination. One hand at her neck, the other gripping a full breast, he grunted with effort, his voice gruff and bass low.

 The watching queens shifted on their couches, their cunts dripping, carapaces snapping and retracting in rapid sequence, antennae dancing as the blatant sexual assault progressed. Beckoning their own sand-servants to them, they opened legs or mouths to more fully partake in the scene.

 Beta was groaning now, her big body shaking and twitching. Rich honey slid down her thighs, and her nipples rode the tips of her breasts; engorged and hotly swollen. What they could see of her face was flushed dark gold, her lips straining around the midnight black of the giant root pounding her mouth.

 Blue shell’s voice rang out, dire threat chilling her tones. “Recall, this is not about you !”

 The male instantly retreated from Beta’s clinging lips. His stinger had extending further, sticking out about half a finger-length from the flattened tip of his root. The honey dripping from the end was amber-gold. His yellow balls, tucked tight to the base of his pitch-black root, looked heavy and full.

 With a grunt of impatience, the male tipped Beta over and pushed her to her belly. Yanking her up by the hips, he gripped her ass cheeks in both hands and moved between her thighs. With a flex of his hips, he rammed his root into her wide open cunt, slamming deep into her wet orifice.

 Beta screamed, her head coming up and back. Eyes sightless, she stared out at the chamber. “Ow, ow, ow! Stinger! Oh, yes! Yesyesyesyesyesyes… ooooohhh !”

 “Sting her again! Sting her again!” The queens chanted excitedly, knowing the male was now piercing the soft tissue at the inner top of her cunt with his sharp stinger, injecting the potent Scarth aphrodisiac into her system.

 Beta writhed in the sands as the male rapidly jabbed his stinger in her. In and out… ten times, twelve…

 Once his venom was deposited, the male proceeded to roughly fuck Beta with a smooth, hard, deliciously decadent looking rhythm that sparked Senior’s interest and envy. Breathing hard, she watched her daughter jackknife with pleasure, her own cunt spasming in sympathy. In that moment, her stomach muscles cramped and with a startled cry, she pushed out her newborn.

 Her cry alerted the other queens and even Beta, body jolting under the rhythmic thrusting of the energetic male, opened one dazed eye to view the sex of her newest sibling.

 “He’s a boy -- well marked with dark brown and cream!” A male server held the baby aloft, a soft smile on his face while two more servers cleaned and prepared Senior, rolled her out of the way to replace the soiled sand beneath her. The old queen gazed down on her issue, content to bask in the fleeting, momentary lightness of non-pregnancy.

 The baby opened its eyes and hollered at the top of its lungs. An indulgent smile turned up the aged mother’s lips and she prophesied, “He’ll be a strong little drone!”

 Bonding moment over, Senior waved to the servant, gesturing him to take the baby to the nurseries. She turned her mind back to business -- namely, the business of winning the war over Earth. “I’ve decided to give the Hoomun female, the possible queen, to Lorrkar.”

 She waited while all hell broke loose.

 Blue’s feral male had finally come and now lay draped over Beta so closely she could barely raise her head. She raised her voice instead. “Why? What purpose would it serve?”

 “Hush, Beta!” Senior hardly spared her a glance. “You’ve wanted to fuck Lorrkar since you first came into estrus. You two are too close because you share both the same drone sire and the same mother: me. You simply don’t want him to have anyone if you can’t have him.”

 Beta sputtered, “Why that’s…”

 “The truth and everybody knows it,” Blue stated calmly. “I know we all agreed removing her from the rest was wise, Senior, but why give her to Lorrkar? He is the War Leader. The gift could be seen as being too little or too much.”

 Senior eyed Blue with a closer scrutiny. The young chit was smarter than she let on. “You’re right, Blue. If she is only another null female, then we insult our War Leader by offering such an insignificant gift. If, however, she proves to be the Hoomun Queen, then we err on the side of greatness. But do we?”

 The old queen stared at her four co-rulers. “Think. He is the War Leader. Who else needs the information only one such as she can provide? If she is what we think her, how long will she tolerate his treatment of her? If he thinks her a simple sand-slave, merely a receptacle for his pleasure, his subsequent actions are sure to drive her into revolt. Either way, we shall quickly see what manner of female she is. And our War Leader will be kept too busy to keep hounding us about giving up this war.”

 The younger queens bowed on their sand couches. Beta, the appointed speaker, waved her antennae in respect. “As always, Senior, you lead with a clear mind.”

  

  

  

 Chapter Five

 Lab Two

  

 Paula Mason sat in the corner of her cage, eyes locked on the scientist puttering about the lab. She could hear a low hum, almost a buzz, coming from him as he worked. Whenever he approached her, his cock would stand up. She cringed inside when that happened, afraid he would try to force her to have sex with him. To date, he never had, but she didn’t trust him. After all, he’d stood and watched, cock dripping, as she’d been raped. The look in his eyes said he’d wanted to be next.

 Occasionally, as he worked, he would glance over at her and wave his head stalks at her. She couldn’t tell if those were eyes on sticks or something like antennae. Mason shuddered. She really didn’t give a damn. All she knew was the Scarth male freaked her out. They all made her skin crawl.

 Though basically humanoid, the Scarth had characteristics that reminded her of both bees and scarab beetles. Like bees, they had antennae and huge, pupil-less eyes. If any of them wore clothing, she’d never seen it in the labs. Almost all of the Scarth had markings on their bodies; variations of yellow and black stripes, brown and warm gold. Honeybees, yellow jackets, bumblebees… the different types were all represented. But they also had hard, metallic looking shells they could extend or retract at will. When extended, the shells could completely cover their bodies. When retracted into their bodies, it was impossible to see how or where they concealed them.

 Back on Earth, during the battle, Paula had believed the shells part of their armor -- a shield they used with skill and dexterity. She hadn’t known they were extensions of their exoskeleton. With the shield completely extended, covering them from head to toe, the Scarth reminded her of huge Egyptian scarab beetles.

 She’d never liked bugs. She certainly didn’t like the one smiling at her now.

 One thing her abduction had clarified for her was what had really happened to the other women. When she’d been taken from the caverns, she’d realized they had probably gone through much the same treatment she was subjected to.

 She’d been bathed, forced to undergo a vast array of medical tests, injected, sprayed and hypo’ed to within an inch of screaming. A couple days later, she’d been brought out of her cage and taken to another room where she’d been showered and shampooed. From there, the lab tech had returned her to the main lab, called in two guards and had her tied down.

 Paula shook as she remembered lying on the examining table, waiting for what she thought was just another test. She’d been shocked and frightened when a Scarth male had matter-of-factly walked up between her legs and inserted his hard penis into her dry vagina and proceeded to pump in and out.

 He’d raped her, coldly but not brutally, treating her as if she were just another stop along the conveyor belt of his duties. The lab tech had observed the whole thing, his large pupil-less eyes gleaming with what had looked like excitement. She’d hated him for watching, for orchestrating her debasement.

 She hated remembering the next part. Shamed even now, Paula recalled how she’d suddenly begun responding to the male’s thrusts, how she’d begged and pleaded for him to fuck her harder. If she hadn’t been tied down, she’d have wrestled him over and ridden him to her satisfaction.

 To this day, she couldn’t say why she’d reacted that way. Nothing about the experience had been pleasurable… in fact, it had hurt tremendously. She remembered thinking the Scarth had put something sharp on the end of his cock to torment her. Something that had stabbed her each time he thrust inside her. The sharp stinging had accompanied every stroke, the pain spreading and growing as the male continued to pound her mercilessly for what seemed like hours.

 Despite the pain, by the time the male came, filling her with his sperm, she’d been nothing but a demoralized lump of orgasmic clay. The lab tech had carried her limp body back into the cage and deposited her on the narrow cot that was the room’s only furniture.

 Matrix unwinding, she was thankful she’d opted for the ten year infertility injection instead of the five. There was no way she could be impregnated until it wore off. Knowing that, she hid a smile every time they tested her, looking for evidence the male’s sperm had taken.

 Sitting in her cell, Paula suddenly laughed aloud. She couldn’t help it. She’d just figured out two important things. Since her injection was still working, she knew without a doubt they hadn’t been captive for more than five Earth years. And she knew what the Scarth wanted the women for.

 Truly, God had to be a woman! Only a female could think up such a sweet irony.

 The Scarth were looking for breeders! They must have been overjoyed when they captured so many females. Unfortunately for them, every female enlister to the Repulsion Force was required to accept the five or ten year infertility injection. Most chose the longer one so they wouldn’t have to worry about it too often.

 Paula covered her mouth with her hand, shoulders shaking as she tried to restrain her amusement. She wondered what would happen when the Scarth scientists finally realized none of the women were fertile and this entire exercise was futile.

 Her amusement drained away when a new thought crossed her mind. She didn’t really know what had happened to the other women. She’d not seen any other humans in the lab.

 Oh, great Weaver, did theydiscard the failed experiments? Are they going to kill me, too, when they realize they can’t breed me?

 All of a sudden, laughter was the furthest thing from her mind. Paula moaned and began to rock back and forth. She wished General Daiquiri were here. Well, not here captive in the lab, but just with her, beside her. Daiq Harmon was the most capable warrior and leader she knew. She would know what to do, pull some miracle out of this situation. Even Thalassic, with her brilliant planning strategies, wasn’t as good an all-around soldier. Thalassic was an administrator. Daiq was a trench-digger. When you were in the trenches, it was the latter you wanted with you.

 Sighing, Paula rubbed her arms. She was perpetually cold. Why did they keep chilled air blowing on her? Was it some type of torture -- a cruel, inimical way to undermine her spirit? Weaken her loyalty? Had the others given in to the Scarth’s blandishments simply for a taste of warmth for the first time in years?

 Mason drew her knees up and wrapped her arms around her legs. It was getting to where she didn’t know anymore what she would be willing to do to get warm… to feel really toasty and cozy and…

 A noise startled her out of her introspection. She looked up into the alien eyes of the lab tech. A large syringe in one hand, he opened the lock with the other.

 He must have finished examining the last lab result. Is he coming to terminate the experiment -- me ?

 Paula Mason scrambled to her feet. No officer in the Planetary Repulsion Force faced death sitting on her butt.

  

  

  

 Chapter Six

 Culled from the Herd

  

 Every muscle straining, Daiquiri struggled in the grasp of the Scarth warriors, fighting them with all her strength. Eyes wide with what she wasn’t ashamed to name terror, she watched the needle come toward her, cringing away from the thick barrel as far as their restraining clasp would allow.

 “Let me go!” she snarled, bucking and twisting at the last minute, exhilaration flaring up as she watched the needle narrowly miss her flesh to plunge into the hand of the male holding her left arm.

 “Aargh!” the Scarth yelled, jerking back, his cry a mixture of pain and anger.

 A heavy blow landed against her cheek and her face exploded with fiery agony. Twisting her body into a contortionist’s pretzel, she arched her back and bit the hand that slapped her, sinking her teeth into the thick flesh. His skin tasted foul and she spat uncontrollably, desperate to clear his flavor from her mouth.

 The guard raised his hand a second time, only to have the second guard grab his arm and click something at him. With an ugly glare, the first male pushed Daiq’s face into the wall and held her there with the bulk of his weight.

 She’d been fighting them for over three Earth years, as near as she could tell. Why were they taking action now, and against only her? This wasn’t one of their scheduled collection times and before now, they’d never taken just one female.

 Cursing and kicking backward, she concentrated on not hyperventilating. “What are you doing? Where are you taking me?”

 Her only answer was the sharp prick of a needle entering her right arm, close to the shoulder. A moment later, fire erupted under her skin and blazed for an eternity until her entire arm went numb.

 Cold had become her constant companion, but the chill that iced her flesh now froze colder than the vacuum of space. Was there death in that needle? Had they decided she was more trouble than she was worth?

 As soon as that thought crossed her mind, Daiq dismissed it. The male had taken the needle and the only thing he was suffering from that she could see was a bad case of temper. Her heart eased, her pulse steadied and slowed. She breathed in and out with deep, measured breaths, regulating her terror.

 Just as Daiq and her two escorts reached the guarded outer entrance to the caverns, the belligerent guard’s hand dropped lifelessly from her arm. To her horror, the man fell to the floor in a boneless sprawl.

 Her fear came roaring back. All she could see in her mind was the needle going into his flesh instead of her own.

 Is he dead? Did his partner accidentally give him the death intended for me?

 If so, she didn’t have long before the dose she’d been given went into effect.

 Right on cue, she began to feel light-headed. She struggled to maintain her footing. No member of the Planetary Repulsion Force faced death on her knees.

 Oh, Matrix Unwinder, grant me bravery in death!

  

  

  

 Chapter Seven

 Reward and Punishment

  

 Lorrkar, War Leader of the Scarth armies, stepped through the wide portal into the Hall of Queens and came to attention. The great room, once housing hundreds of the species’ mothers, now contained only five. Sadly, the small number drove home the reality of their plight. Their race was dying alongside their adoptive planet.

 Five queens could not possibly birth the number of soldiers needed to win the war with Earth. The Hoomuns had many more available lives to call upon. He would continue to fight as ordered, but he’d warned them more than once, not to look for such an easy win the next time, despite that miraculous first victory.

 Looking out the corner of his eye, Lorrkar saw that Senior had just finished birthing him a new brother. He sighed. The babe was nothing but another soldier to use as fodder for their war.

 Sometimes -- more frequently now than before -- he wished things were different. He wished their planet wasn’t dying and that the queens had never learned about Earth and its significance to the Scarth race. If wishes were suns, his world would have a new one…

 As he stood waiting to be acknowledged, the servers cleaned Senior and prepared her for her next mounting. Drodarr was the chosen one and he swaggered up to the dais, his long root swaying ponderously before him, heavy with arousal.

 With a sense of envious shock, Lorrkar saw Drodarr’s stinger was already well extended. The sharp, hollow-point projection at the end of his root was a full finger-length and dripped a dark gold honey. No wonder he was Senior’s favorite and had the other queens sighing for his services.

 Feeling sexually inadequate in the face of such accomplishment, Lorrkar silently acknowledged his birth father’s superiority. While his root was built along the same thick and long lines as Drodarr’s, he’d never seen his own stinger. Only once in all his matings had it emerged inside a female to sting her into ecstasy, but when he’d pulled out, his stinger had already retracted.

 Some males claimed their stinger’s failure to emerge was solely the female’s fault. He wasn’t so sure about that. Thinking back to the one time he’d stung his female, he remembered his own level of excitement had been extraordinarily high. He’d fought a sand war for the female. Upon winning, he’d taken her right there before all the soldiers in his group. With them looking on, he had impaled the female and begun to thrust wildly, reveling in his victory and his prize. The cheers of his men and the excited moans of the female had heightened his enjoyment until he’d felt his stinger pop out and embed itself in the wall of the neuter’s womb.

 Her wild screams had alerted his comrades and while they teased and egged him on, he had stung her over and over. By the time he came, she’d screamed herself hoarse and lay insensate beneath him, fucked into a faint.

 On the strength of the reputation gained from that incident, the queens had called him to their hall for the first time. But fucking a queen was nothing like mounting a null. Lorrkar hadn’t liked the experience, at all. Having four mothers -- one of them his own -- watching while he tried to impregnate a queen was enough to dry a normal male’s root right up. Though a virile male, the queens obviously felt he wasn’t up to being Queens’ Fodder, for they had never called for him again. He couldn’t bring himself to mind. As War Leader, he had his choice of the null females. Queens were for progeny and he didn’t want any child of his involved in this asinine war…

 “Son, come closer!”

 Lorrkar snapped to attention and marched to the front of Senior’s couch. “Senior Queen and mother, I greet you.”

 She bent her head, signaling he could touch antennae with her. He did so, drawing back to await instructions.

 Over his mother’s shoulder, he watched Drodarr slowly feeding his root into the queen’s sex. The older male smiled and gave him a jaunty wink before returning his attention back to the duty at hand.

 “War Leader, what of the war? How does it progress?”

 Lorrkar groaned inside and swallowed a sigh. He’d hoped they wouldn’t inquire there. He should have known better.

 “Senior, we are still amassing the second fleet. All the other hives have consented to add to our numbers. However, almost all of them also state there is little food to send along. I fear we shall go hungry ourselves if forced to feed these volunteers.”

 “There is food in storage and we will soon have the vast storehouse of Earth to fill our pantry.”

 “I will say again, I do not believe Earth will be an easy target or a guaranteed win. The Hoomuns are strong and determined. They are fighting for their homeland, which always gives the foe a decided advantage.”

 “You sound as if you admire these foes, these Hoomuns. You sound almost fond of them.”

 Lorrkar carefully kept his antennae high. Carapace fully retracted, he nodded curtly. “I have found them to be strong and determined fighters, worthy enemies.”

 Senior smiled. “Good! It has come to our attention that we have been remiss.”

 Lorrkar hid his growing trepidation. Whenever he heard those ceremonial words, trouble was not far behind. “I am happy in the service of our people, Senior.”

 “Such service should be rewarded. We have decided on a suitable gift.”

 Uh, oh! “I am honored that you think my service deserving of reward, but such is unnecessary. My service is motivated by love.”

 “Just so,” Senior noted. “And it is love that motivates our decision to gift you with a Hoomun sand-slave. She is yours to do with as you please and should bring you hours of pleasure and diversion from the efforts of the war.”

 “Senior, such a gift is…” Lorrkar was lost for words.

 “She is waiting for you in your quarters, in your sand.”

 Lorrkar’s carapace snapped out to cover his shoulders. “What?”

 “She’s been given the hormone injection that allows communication between us, and the serum that will make her metabolism and reproductive system compatible with yours. If the Maker blesses, you can become the father of a new hive.”

 The thought floored Lorrkar. “She’s not a null?”

 “She’s not been tested, but we suspect not.” Senior shifted and moaned, pushed back against Drodarr’s powerful thrusts. “We suspect she is a Hoomun Queen.”

 Queens are for progeny.

 Lorrkar’s knees went weak. His antennae curled in shock.

 “A queen ?”

 “Think what she can do for your war effort!”

  

  

  

 Chapter Eight

 Out of the Cold, Into the Sands…

  

 She woke to Warmth !

 Blessed spine-loosening, toe-curling warmth!

 Daiq stretched her body out as far as her fetters would allow, reveling in the first non-fevered heat she’d felt since waking up on this benighted planet.

 She tested her bonds; looked around and found her wrists were tied to two pillars attached to a raised platform box. Her makeshift bed contained fine-grained sand, heated to a little more than normal body heat. Daiq relaxed in her restraints, closed her eyes and luxuriated in the soft sands. For the moment, she was in no hurry to go anywhere, except maybe back to sleep.

 A few minutes later, she overcame her momentary madness and resumed examining the restraints, searching for a way out of them. She rubbed her wrists raw before admitting she was well and truly captured, but she couldn’t bring herself to worry too much. Being tied down in warmth was a far cry from being murdered.

 Thalassic would never take her ease in a situation like this. Her mother would tell her it was necessary to guard against complacency. Daiq smirked. She was a grown woman and hadn’t lived with her mother for years and she hadn’t been this warm in ages.

 Snuggling down in the mounded sands, Daiq curled over onto her side. Exhaustion suddenly overwhelmed her. Three years’ worth of tiredness descended upon her and she yawned so wide, her jaw popped. Giving in to the inevitable, she settled down to sleep, murmuring, “I believe I’ll just lie right here, wait and see what develops.”

  

  

  

 Chapter Nine

 Lab Three

  

 The Hoomun female stared down the barrel of the hypodermic, eyes wide and mouth open. He could almost hear her heart thudding frantically in her breast. Did she think he was going to harm her? Breen shook his head. He would never hurt her if he could help it.

 He shivered and glanced over at the register on the far wall of her cell. The cold air pouring out of the grate set his teeth on edge and shriveled his root. Once again, he wished the Hoomuns didn’t need such frigid air to survive. Much as he wanted to mount this beautiful black-skinned alien, he didn’t think he could maintain an erection in this chilling cold, and he feared damaging her too much if he subjected her to prolonged heat in his sand couch.

 He didn’t know why he’d filled the syringe with the chemicals that would allow them to talk with each other. It was forbidden. Yet, over and over, he’d debated with himself until he came to this point -- standing before her cell with the damning evidence in his hand.

 Desperation for her drove him to this disobedient act. It had been weeks since he’d had to stand by and watch another touch her as he wanted to. It had almost killed him to know a fertile male had stung her with his honey, to watch her writhe beneath another’s thrusts…

 He wanted so much with her, but there were times he looked at her and saw hatred in her fine brown eyes. Hatred directed toward him. She didn’t understand he’d had no choice in his actions. There could be no discovery between them, no exchange of caring and sand-play without communication. And so he had steeled himself to go against the orders of his hive.

 She laid her hand in his when he reached for it, her courage a bright, shining nimbus in the cold room. She shook only a little when the needle went in, trusting him in her distrust. When her knees went weak, he caught her, laid her on her cold thin mattress.

 And waited…

 As soon as she awoke and opened her eyes, he smiled at her, eager to begin his courtship. “My name is Breen. You are very beautiful.”

  

  

  

 Chapter Ten

 Hot Blood and Warm Sands

  

 An intimate touch brought her awake.

 Long years of military training had Daiquiri instantly jerking aside and kicking out. She felt the jar of the solid impact of both feet hitting a rock-hard belly all the way up to her knees.

 She completed the turn over onto her back, panting through her mouth to minimize the sound, enabling her to hear the gruff oomph the male made as he doubled over with pain.

 Daiq looked up into the wide, fathomless eyes of a tall alien. Two slender antennae grew out of a short dense patch of what looked more like fur than hair. His big naked body was covered with a slashing pattern of wide sable brown markings the color of his eyes. His facial features were very close to human norm. Wide high forehead, long patrician nose, broad cheekbones and a full, lush mouth set above a firm chin all came together to form an exotically handsome visage. The features looked vaguely Egyptian.

 The rest of his body matched his face for beauty. Strong, tall and muscular, the alien’s physique was just about perfect. She couldn’t help noting how long and thick the dark brown, vein-roped cock was, not with it jutting up from between his thighs like a huge blunt weapon. Or a battering ram. She very much feared her pussy was the door he planned on battering.

 “Who the hell are you? What the hell are you?”

 The questions came out of nowhere. She didn’t expect him to answer. Daiq didn’t think they could. The Scarth had never communicated with the prisoners in all the years she’d been captive. She was shocked when he opened his mouth and spoke.

 “I am Lorrkar, War Leader of the White Mountain Scarth… and your master.”

 “The hell you say!” Daiq snarled, tugging on the restraints to make enough slack to get up in his face. She was jerked back for her efforts, falling in a sprawl of tangled limbs. “You’ll never be my master, bub. Not while you’re living… not even when I’m dead!”

 He went on, as if she hadn’t spoken. “You are a gift from my queens -- a sand-slave to pleasure and entertain me.” He looked pensive. “I did not think to find myself pleasantly pleased with you, yet once again, my Mother shows her infinite wisdom. She knows me better than I know myself.”

 His hand traced the line of her eyebrows, trailed down the slope of her nose. His lips turned up in a slight smile when she snapped her teeth at his hand and he left off exploring her face. His hands dropped down, landed on her breasts. He palmed the pert curves, plucked at her nipples, alien eyes intent and focused on the tips that swelled up and hardened under his slow, firm touch.

 Daiq lay quiescent, frozen with shock at her willingness to be handled by this alien. She couldn’t believe the intense emotions and reactions flooding through her. It had been so long -- years before her captivity -- since she’d felt desire, she almost didn’t recognize it, yet the signs were unmistakable.

 Her mouth went dry. Her breasts felt swollen and achy, nipples full and tight. Her pussy pulsed and filled with liquid that spilled in a creamy rush between her thighs. Her skin felt flushed with heat, hotter than the sands beneath her.

 Breath racing through her open mouth, Daiq fought the feelings. She was the cold one, the ultimate soldier. She was nothing like her sisters Tequila and Martini, who sought out consorts for pleasure and recreation. Proper Amazons knew consorts were for progeny. Normally, she had no time for such foolishness, but she couldn’t deny her body was crying out to be filled.

 She wanted his hands trailing across her body, craved the touch of his mouth on her nipples and all her other hot, swollen spots throbbing in loneliness. Just the sight of his long, meaty cock had her vagina clenching in wet need. When a thick finger slid in, testing her for size and readiness, her hips snapped up and engulfed the rooting digit, milking it frantically.

 Her breathing hitched at the fullness stretching her sheath. Her thought processes stalled contemplating how much better it would feel being stuffed with the weighty organ bobbing between his legs. Matrix of life, but that thing would fill her past her navel !

 Resistance be damned, she needed that cock inside her. Right now!

 “Why am I tied? You think I’ll escape?”

 He laughed. “You cannot escape. The door is voice activated.”

 “Then release my hands.”

 He canted his head to study her.

 “What? You think I’ll hurt you?”

 He stirred his finger in her moisture, pressed up against the sensitive pad of her upper vagina. A gush of fluid bathed his hand. He didn’t laugh. She’d have killed him if he had. He didn’t even smile when he met her gaze this time.

 “I don’t think you’re interested in hurting me. Not at the moment, anyway.” He bent down and took a nipple in his mouth, drawing strongly on the tip. His cheeks hollowed with the suction as he pulled against the flesh, his lips covering more than half her mound.

 “ Ugh!” Her breathing went awry. She bit her lip to stop another needy cry escaping. Regardless, she almost screamed when he inserted the second finger in her tight sheath and pumped in and out, gliding in the lubricating slickness of her cream.

 He released her breast with a wet, audible pop, leaving her nipple pebbled and pleasantly sore. His breathing sounded harsh to her ears, an indication he was as affected by their sexual interactions as she.

 “How interesting… Sucking your short petal has made my root harder!”

 “Isn’t that part of the arousal process for you?”

 He shook his head. “I do not even know why I did it, except you lifted your torso when I fingered you between your long petals.”

 “What are you calling,” she had to pause to catch her breath, “my long petals?”

 He pulled his fingers out and fluttered her labia. “These are the long petals that guard your stamen.” One fingertip thrummed her clit.

 “Goddess above,” she gasped. Why did this alien have the power to move her when no male before had ever done so? Until today, her title of Frozen Daiquiri had been accurate. Now, she was melting, rendered down to a puddle of liquid desire.

 Her hips lifted into his touch, wordlessly begging for more. Her legs fell open in blatant invitation and she shuddered, her entire body quaking when he accepted her offer and settled between her thighs.

 “Wait! Release me, first. I won’t fuck you trussed up like a Sabine captive for Roman rapine.”

 He canted his head, large eyes going over her features. “You will fuck me any way I wish. You are my sand-slave. I am your master.”

 She hissed in growing annoyance. “Enough with the Master/slave shit. I’m not your slave. You’re not my master.” Daiq narrowed her eyes at him, hoping the gesture was universal. “Let my arms go or I’ll rescind my offer. Trust me,” she said, when he still hesitated, “you’ll find a lot more pleasure from a willing ride than a bucking bronco!”

 “Than a what ?”

 “Never mind, just get my hands loose.”

 She had begun to think he wouldn’t risk freeing her, when he finally reached up and undid the ties holding her to the pillars. With a thankful sigh, Daiq rubbed the circulation back into her lower arms and fingers, grateful to feel the tingling that said no permanent nerve damage had been done. She glanced up at him. “Thank you. What did you say your name was?”

 “Lorrkar.”

 She nodded. “Thank you, Lorrkar. I’m…” She paused. She didn’t want to bring their differences into bed with them. Mentioning her military rank as she had been about to do would have gone a long way toward dampening the mood. “Call me Daiq.”

 “Dack,” he repeated. “Now we fuck.” He rolled to his side and tried to pull her down with him.

 “Hold up, big boy!” She placed a restraining hand in the middle of his chest. The injured look that crossed his face as he finished rolling to his back made her bite off a chuckle.

 “We’ll get to the good stuff, but I’m going to be driving this convoy. We’ll move at my speed. Don’t worry,” she added at his crestfallen expression. “I’m feeling supersonic about now, but I promise to give you a chance to catch up.”

 Feeling more in control, Daiquiri held out her hands and, when he took them, pulled Lorrkar into a sitting position. With a teasing smile, she straddled his hips and settled onto his lap, mashing his cock between their bellies.

 She flexed her thighs and rose up and down, slowly sliding her vagina along his standing cock. “Hmm,” she moaned, letting her head fall back. “That feels so good! Thick and hot and meaty against my clit… just the way I like it. I can’t wait to feel this big guy filling up my pussy.”

 Lorrkar groaned. His hands came up, smoothed over her back, fingers reaching around to tweak both nipples. He pressed her breasts against his chest bone, twisting side-to-side so his coarse body covering brushed her swollen, engorged nipples. His arms trembled as he swept his hands up and down her spine. “Stop teasing and put me inside you.”

 Daiq lowered her right hand and clasped her fingers around the thick barrel. Aiming the blunt head toward her pussy, she lifted up enough to position his cock at her entry. A cry lodged in her throat as she came down on the broad glans, as her intimate flesh parted and gave way around the thick bar of his sex.

 They both moaned.

 “By the Hive Mothers, you were made to take my root! You’re so hot and tight around me.” Lorrkar’s hands slid down to grip both Daiq’s buttocks, fingers digging into the resilient flesh. Using his grip as a handhold, he worked her on his staff, lifting and lowering her as his hips churned to impale her on his dripping stalk.

 Unable to do anything else but hold on, Daiq looped her arms about Lorrkar’s neck and raised her mouth up for a kiss. When he didn’t respond, she panted, “Kiss me! Give me your tongue.”

 His hips stilled. He stared down at her in dismay. She couldn’t understand how easily she read his expressions. “What would you do with my tongue?”

 Surprise made her pause.

 They sat motionless, joined intimately, yet miles apart in thinking and traditions. She could feel the strain in her muscles as they fought to expand around his inhumanly thick erection. His heart beat in her vagina, a steady pulse that drew cream down from her in slick washes of arousal.

 “Your people don’t kiss?”

 “What is this thing you call a kiss?” He looked perplexed and then intrigued. “Show me!”

 “With pleasure!” Heated liquid pooled low in Daiq’s belly. The thought of teaching this warrior to kiss had her awash and squirming. She ran her hands through the short strands of his hair, ending at the nape of his neck. Interlocking her fingers, she drew his head down to hers. “Open your mouth a little… yes, just like that…”

 Placing her mouth over his, she sent her tongue darting over his lips, bathing the top with quick little wet forays that garnered the distinct taste that was uniquely his own.

 A moan escaped her as she deepened the contact, pushing past his lips to tangle with his untutored tongue. The roof of his mouth tasted dark and mysterious, and she went back for another helping, widening her mouth to take in more of his flavor.

 He caught on fast, tilting his head to a more favorable angle and attacking her mouth with his. They ate at each other, mouths ravenous, tongues diving and dipping, throats working as they took turns exploring each other’s darkest recesses.

 One of his hands slid to the base of her spine and jerked her into his body, jolting her atop his cock. A quick, sharp pang high in her sheath made her wriggle uncomfortably. A tingle raced from the spot, straight to the tips of her breasts.

 His hips retreated, advanced, and the sting came again, a little stronger this time… the pain lingering a little longer.

 “Ohhh… owww !” She shifted gingerly, trying to ease her pelvis away from the source of discomfort. “Something’s poking me!”

 Lorrkar lifted his mouth from hers. “I am poking you.”

 “No, I mean, something sharp is jabbing my pussy. Ow! There it is again!”

 A purely male expression of smug superiority suffused his face. “It is my stinger. I am pumping honey into your system. Soon, you will know pleasure fit for a queen!”

 “What the fuck ? Hey!”

 Daiq let out a startled yelp when Lorrkar, a supporting hand across her shoulders and the other resting at the top of her buttocks, flung her to the sands. Before her back met the heat, he had grabbed her legs and lifted them high. Pulling almost out of her, he gathered his hips and thrust into her, the strength of the movement sending his cock shuttling up her sheath with lethal power.

 In rapid succession, he fucked her pussy, ramming his cock in and out, in and out of her… over and over. Each time, the sting came fast and sharp, radiating hot sensations throughout the sensitive tissues of her sex.

 Fire raced along her nerve endings, sizzling in her blood, heating her body to a red-hot fever of wanting.

 Lorrkar suddenly pulled completely out of her and sat back on his heels. “Look!” His voice rang with pride and something else… something she couldn’t read.

 Eyes widening in shock and disbelief, Daiq stared at Lorrkar’s cock. It was just as long and perfectly formed as before, but now, protruding from the rounded head, was a deadly-looking stinger almost four inches long. Cone-shaped, the slender appendage came to a sharp hollow point. It pulsed, actually moving inward and outward with the cadence of his breathing. From the very tip, a viscous, amber colored fluid flowed sluggishly. Daiq couldn’t believe she’d had that thing inside her.

 “What the hell is that?”

 Lorrkar preened. “It is my stinger. See how long it is! Note the dark color of my honey,” he pointed out, pompously. “That dark color means my honey is very potent.”

 Daiq wasn’t impressed. “You were jabbing me with that thing. It hurt!”

 Lorrkar smirked. “In a moment, you’ll be begging for me to sting you again, until you’ve taken all my honey.”

 “Humph!” Daiq snorted. “Not living likely!”

 Lorrkar nodded. “Oh, yes. Scarth honey is a strong aphrodisiac. Once a female is stung, she becomes addicted. You will beg.”

 Even as Daiq was muttering, “The hell I will,” her womb was convulsing. “What the shit?”

 Her insides began to burn, all the soft, intimate tissues going up in flames. Damn it, Lorrkar must be right. The biological mickey he’d slipped her was working. Suddenly, her pussy shuddered and clenched, hungrily clamping down on emptiness. She needed him, craved his cock and his stinger back inside her, pumping her full of that mysterious fluid he called his honey.

 Daiq squeezed her thighs together and bit down on her tongue. She was an Amazon, but more than that, she was Thalassic Harmon’s daughter. Damned if she was going to beg some male for his cock!

 Spreading her hands wide over her belly, she pushed in, applying pressure in the hope the maneuver would alleviate the pain already building to a level she’d never before encountered.

 She groaned and curled into a fetal ball, lost to all but the urge to scream out her need.

 Gentle hands turned her, straightened her cramped limbs. Lips brushed her face, sipped her tears and pressed against her slack mouth. She opened blurry eyes to see Lorrkar leaning over her, his expression one of worshipful intentness.

 “Truly, you must be a queen among the Hoomuns. You do not ever need to beg for what I willingly have to give.”

 With infinite care, he lifted and spread her legs, laying them over his shoulders as he eased his stinger-topped cock into her cringing vagina.

 To her surprise and relief, this time, the stings were welcome, the pain minuscule in contrast to the bright, hot blasts of intense pleasure.

 Daiq moaned in rising arousal as Lorrkar rocked on his knees, firm hips flexing, cock going deep and hard into her, stabbing her womb with his electrifying stinger. The tips of her fingers tingled, her toes curled, calves locking in muscle spasms so intense it was painful. Her pussy clenched and fluttered about his thick pumping organ.

 Finally the stinging ceased, leaving only the long, hard cock of her lover pounding her pussy, digging deep and sinking into her wet, heated depths over and over.

 Her fingers curling into claws at his back, Daiq gripped him with her arms and legs, holding on for dear life as he thrust and thrust, forcing his oversized cock up in her, penetrating the deepest fissure of her slick folds. “Yes, Lorr, give it to me! Fuck me, hard!”

 Instead of responding with harder and faster thrusts, Lorrkar froze at her words. Crying out in despair, he began to withdraw from her sopping pussy.

 “Wait! Where the hell are you going?”

 Lorrkar braced his weight on his forearms and gazed sadly down at Daiquiri. “The queens want me to dominate you. I won’t do their bidding in this.”

 “You aren’t the one in the position of power, bud. I am. We don’t stop fucking until I say so, and I’m not finished!”

 Catching him off-guard, Daiq heaved Lorrkar over on his back and rode him down. Straddling his waist, she concentrated her will and her strength and bore down on his cock with her vaginal muscles. Holding his best friend in an inescapable stranglehold, she proceeded to ride him, milking his cock with strong, rhythmic contractions that soon had him howling and bucking under her.

 “That’s right,” she crooned, watching him fall apart beneath her, “feel how tight I am around you, how hard your cock is inside me!”

 Lorrkar tried to disengage, but Daiq wasn’t having that. She tightened her grip until he yelped in pain. “You can’t get free. An Amazon learns from an early age how to hold onto the cock they want.”

 “Please… I’m losing control!”

 “That’s what I want, Lorrkar. I demand your control, your loyalty and your thick delicious cock spewing inside me. I’m determined to have it all!”

 Lorrkar gave a loud cry, his hips rising off the couch. Hands fisted at her hips, he held her down as he surged up into her, no longer trying to escape her hold. Eyes glazed over with lust, he stared into Daiq’s implacable gaze as he slammed his pelvis up, sending his cock to her depths time after time.

 “I can’t hold out any longer!” His voice was hoarse and desperate.

 As driven as he, Daiq urged him on, clinging to him like a limpet as she rode out the storm of their tumultuous lovemaking.

 “How about we both let go and fall together?”

 Lorrkar threw back his head and keened. At the height of his cry, his body shuddered and something shiny and black snapped out from beneath his shoulder blades and formed a cage about them both.

 One moment, Daiq was riding her wild bronco; the next, they were cocooned in some strange, metallic shield that closed low over Daiq’s head, forcing her to bend close to Lorrkar’s chest.

  

  

  

 Chapter Eleven

 Aftermath

  

 Somehow, someway, she was going to figure out a way to keep him.

 As Lorrkar’s semen pumped out of his cock in strong waves of life, flooding her unprotected sex, Daiq lay pondering the vast differences between her and her new consort. They would have many obstacles to face in order to be together, but she had no doubt she’d found the one male she didn’t want to live without.

 Quick? Hell, yes, her decision was quick. She was a soldier, a warrior. Her life was measured in battlefields, where snap decisions determined whether people lived or died. She made life or death decisions every day. Making one concerning her love life seemed simple in contrast.

 “Tell me, Lorrkar… who is the master, and who the slave?”

 “I cannot master my own response. How could I begin to master you?”

 “You’re hedging.” She reached up and felt his face, seeking an expression she could understand. “It’s dark in here. I can’t see your face.”

 His arms came about her. “Once I relax, my carapace will retract. Until then, it is good the light is dim. I don’t think I could tell you these things in broad daylight.”

 Daiq frowned. She looped her hands over his shoulders and rested her head on his chest, content to wait for his carapace, whatever that was, to open.

 “They gave you to me for an underhanded reason, not for honor. They think I don’t know they wish to use you against your own people in this insane war.”

 Daiq’s breathing halted. “You think the war insane?”

 He harrumphed. “What would you call it? I suggested years ago we try a peaceful approach, ask for help rather than force ourselves upon the Earth. We have learned nothing from the calamity that happened to our people eons ago. The queens are too stubborn to listen to any reasoning but their own.”

 “Our people are at war, no matter how insane you think it. If we want to be together…” Her words trailed off, unsure if Lorrkar wanted the same things she did. Perhaps she’d let the phenomenal fucking go to her head. Maybe he hadn’t been as impressed with her sexual performance as she had been with his…

 “We are together! For whatever reason, the queens gifted me with you and I’ll let nothing and no one come between us.”

 “I’m almost shocked to find I agree with you, but I feel the same way.”

 “Why shocked?” he asked, running his hand through her cropped locks. “Don’t your people experience instant attraction and fast joinings?”

 “Not this instant.” She shook her head. “Don’t you realize how different we are?”

 “Not so different,” he argued. “In fact, in the important ways, we are very much alike.”

 She propped her elbows on his chest. Her head thumped against his still extended shell. “Great Matrix, I’m lying here, sloppy from having just had sex with a creature that has antennae and looks like a damned big insect. I’m trapped inside his shell with him, which is part of his body and won’t release us until he can relax enough to control his reflexes. I have to ask…” she laughed a little, “how could you possibly believe we are at all alike?”

 Lorrkar sighed heavily. “First and foremost, we are both warriors, trained and disciplined to fight, who have learned that the best way to win at war is never to engage the enemy in battle. All our lives, we’ve put our emotional needs on hold in order to serve the greater good.” His lips brushed the top of her head. “And we both hold positions that demand of us things we would rather not give.”

 Daiq lay quietly, absorbing the truths Lorrkar had brought to her attention. What he said was true. They had both been molded by strong mothers. Her mother’s expectations of her had shaped her early years. Though she’d grown up and moved away, Thalassic still overshadowed Daiq’s choices and decisions -- in a good way, she realized. Her mother was a wonderful woman, honorable and totally loyal to the peoples of Earth. She couldn’t have had a more worthy example to follow… but she needed to be her own person, not a carbon copy of the woman the world called their military savior. Yet for all the problems she’d had with her mother, Daiq had never doubted Thalassic’s love for her children.

 Poor Lorrkar had a Hive Queen for a mother -- an ambitious female willing to condemn her progeny to a war that would decimate large numbers of them with little to no practical return, because Earth would never surrender to alien invaders. The Scarth would fight and die for years before gaining a foothold that would never be secure.

 Light and heat poured over Daiq as Lorrkar’s carapace finally retracted. She smiled as comprehension and enlightenment -- and a possible solution to their dilemma -- came to her at that same moment. Everything became clear…

 If Lorrkar could bring himself to trust her, to lay everything on the line and go against the direct orders of his Hive, the two of them just might be able to avert the disaster looming ahead for both their peoples. With mutual trust and togetherness, they just might end this war.

 Trembling with rising excitement, Daiq sat up and gazed down on the male her heart had chosen. She and Lorrkar had come together through strange paths. Ahead of them loomed even stranger roads to travel. The knowledge was daunting, but Daiq could not deny this alien had become dear to her. With his honest heart and honorable standards, he had melted the ice in her heart, heated the frozen wasteland of her soul. Matrix knew that stinger of his had caused a nuclear fallout in her still sensitive pussy. For the first time in years, General Daiquiri Harmon was warm both physically and emotionally.

 She leaned over and kissed Lorrkar, who responded with an impassioned entwining of tongues and lips. Who would have guessed he’d never kissed before two hours ago?

 After an eternity of loving, Daiq dragged her attention back to solving their problem. “I think I have a plan… one that will allow us to be together.” Her voice faltered. “If that’s what you really want…”

 Lorrkar sat up and pressed his lips to each of her breasts, saluting her passion-stung nipples with sharp teeth before looking earnestly into her eyes. “If you remain in doubt, I will gladly try convincing you again.”

 She laughed. Actually threw back her head and chortled with gladness. Heart giddy, feeling lightheaded, Daiq marveled at the changes this male had already brought to her life. It had been years since she’d laughed out loud. Not since moving out of her mother’s compound. She wondered at what else life with Lorrkar had in store for her.

 “No need, Lorr, you’ve convinced me. You say your queens are determined to launch the armada. I know my planet will never allow your ships to get that close to Earth without reprisal. We can’t really impact those set parameters, but there is a way to minimize their control. I think we -- the two of us -- can end this war. It’ll require much from both of us, but if we trust and support each other, I honestly believe we can pull it off.”

 Lorrkar’s antennae came erect. His large brown eyes sparkled with interest and hope. “Just tell me what I need to do.”

 “We need to convince the queens that I am pregnant. Is there a way that can be done by trickery?”

 Lorrkar tilted his head. “You might be. My honey is potent.”

 “Yes, it is, but trust me… it’s too soon to tell in a Human female.”

 He looked disappointed. “I do not know anything about this, but I have a friend who drones in the labs. His name is Breen. We will go see him.”

 He bounded off the bed and stretched his hands toward her, offering her a hand up. Daiquiri took his hands but pulled him back when he would have turned to go out the door.

 “Wait! Be sure, Lorrkar. What we are planning will be seen as treason by your people. Once you step onto this road, there will be no turning back.”

 His pupil-less eyes gazed at her in blatant trust. “Do you plan to harm my people?”

 Daiq shook her head. “No.”

 “Do you truly like me? Will you keep me when we come to your home, to Earth?”

 Her expression became fierce. Protective feelings swelled within her, fear of losing him causing her pulse to race. “I will keep you by me for all time. Matrix help any who try to separate us!”

 Lorrkar bent to her and pressed his lips against her parted mouth. His tongue swept in and licked in a quick foray. Breathing heavily, he drew back and showed her his root, standing tall and thick, his dripping stinger emerged. “Before you, I had never seen my stinger. You make me more than I am. I wonder how much more I can become with you.”

 She closed her eyes to savor the sweetness of his words. “I, too, am different than I was. Being with you is a good thing.”

 His hands smoothed over Daiq’s shoulders and breasts, thumbed her nipples in passing on their way to her bushy mound. He gently parted her long petals, her labia, and slid his fingers through her slick heat before leading her back to his sands. “We will go to Breen, but first, I will have you again. I will take you over and over until this fake pregnancy is real. Together, we will make a new Hive, one in which both our people can flourish.”

 As Lorrkar lowered her onto the hot sands, Daiquiri Harmon -- Amazon and General and only lately a woman -- opened her arms and thighs to her alien consort. She knew her people would consider her a turncoat and traitor. She would be lucky if they didn’t kill her outright, before giving her a chance to speak. Daiq could only hope her mother retained enough power to grant her an audience before ordering a court-martial.

 Mentally resigned to her fate once she reached Earth, she decided to enjoy the moment and not dwell on the future. Anxious to feel his thick sex tunneling up her tight channel, she lifted her hips in a plea for his possession. “Fuck me, Lorrkar. Fuck me and make me forget…”

  

 The End

 at least of this story…

  

  

  

 Some Like It Hot!

  

 General Thalassic Harmon is considered by most to be the ultimate warrior, the post-Martian savior of the Earth, but in order to serve her planet, Thalassic has sacrificed much. Few know the tears she’s shed over her daughters, wishing for a closer relationship, wishing she could be the soft mother most girls crave. One man knows. Darvic Gunderssen -- Martini Harmon’s father -- knows Thalassic better than she knows herself… knows the woman behind the icon. He alone knows the lust to submit that burns inside Thalassic and he’ll do whatever it takes to fan those flames until they are both consumed. He’ll master her and tame her again and again. Because when it comes to passion and control, Thalassic is about to be reminded that… Some Like It Hot !

  

  

  

 Camille Anthony

  

 A California native, Camille Anthony now lives in the beautifully wild Low Country of South Carolina. A fertile imagination and a love of both Romance and Science Fiction fuel her writing. Her favorite stories are those of strong, honorable people -- whatever the race or planet of origin -- who are driven by love and lust to find that one special someone. Camille likes her heroines feisty, her heroes dominant and her passion red hot! She loves to hear from her readers. You can e-mail her at CamilleAnthony@CamilleAnthony.com or visit her website at www.camilleanthony.com. Your comments and suggestions are appreciated.