Females of Vulvar Page 17
“Not really what I hoped to hear,” I said. “It isn’t my mother’s decision to make. It’s mine.”
“At this moment, yes,” Idril said. “But that’s something you must consider. If you remain on Vulvar as a slave, should the Goddess-Queens permit it, even as my slave, you will never make another decision. Others will always decide for you.”
“I could live with that too,” I said. “As long as I belonged to you.”
Idril shook her head. “Let us not talk of this further now,” she said. “I have permission from your mother to keep you out late. Would you care to see my home?”
I smiled. “Very much so.”
“If you accompany me home, I can’t promise to respect your virtue,” Idril teased.
“Now I want to see your home all the more,” I said with a grin.
Chapter 24
An Unforgettable Night
Idril lived in a modest one-story flat near the center of the city. We had drawn more stares from other curious passengers on the streetcar we rode to her home. It confounded them to see a free female permitting a male to sit beside her on the same carriage bench instead of him kneeling at her feet. Since the concept of free males wasn’t a part of Vulvarian culture, they naturally assumed I was her slave.
Once inside the front door, Idril clinched me in a passionate embrace and kissed me long and hard. All the while, she was unbuttoning my tunic, which she had soon pushed off my shoulders onto the floor. When her gaze traveled down my naked body, she paused for a moment and gasped.
“Why are you still wearing the tube?” she said.
“I thought I should remain accustomed to wearing it,” I said, “if I aspire to be a slave once more.”
Idril laughed, then reached out to finger the silver disk suspended from my neck on the delicate silver chain.
“Then it’s fortunate you thought to bring this along,” Idril said, smiling at me seductively. “Otherwise, the pleasures that await this evening might have been very one-sided in my favor.”
“Will you look at that!” I said. “I didn’t realize I was still wearing that around my neck. I put it on when Melriel gave it to me this afternoon and forgot to remove it.”
“Yes, I’m certain you only forgot about it,” Idril smirked. “Now, let us retire to the bedchamber. Your mistress desperately needs pleasuring, my slave.”
“As you wish, mistress,” I grinned.
Taking my hand, Idril led me to her bedside. There she quickly removed her formal garment and dropped it to the floor. The teasing turned into lustful kissing and groping before we tumbled onto the bed. Idril looked so delicious and magnificent.
◆◆◆
That night, that unforgettable, marvelous night, we made love until almost dawn. There was no copulation involving penetration, but we discovered so many other ways to share intimacy and tenderness.
I pleasured Idril as I had before, with my face buried between her widely opened, firm, silky thighs as she lay on her back. Later we revisited a chapter from our escapades aboard the ship, with her above me on her knees, riding my mouth and tongue with a vengeance climax after climax.
During the night, the tube came off, and Idril cast it aside. Sitting atop me, she enthusiastically and vigorously rubbed her soft, moist sex against my hardness until I exploded. Unlike our past encounters, Idril didn’t just use me for her pleasure. Again and again, in various ways, she pleasured me, providing me the release I desperately wanted too.
It was near daybreak when we finally collapsed in exhaustion and fell into satisfied sleep while entwined in each other's arms.
My last conscious thought before falling asleep was that I’d never felt such happiness in my entire life.
Chapter 25
A Promise Kept
I woke up to the sound of birds chirping, freezing despite the sleeping bag. I rolled onto my side and opened my eyes. Looking around, I saw that the campfire seemed to have burned out during the night. Groggily, I climbed out of the sleeping bag, intending to build a fire to warm me. I stood up, stiff and cold, and cupped my hands. I blew my breath into them to warm them. That’s when I saw it, the rocky outcropping near where the silver spacecraft had landed.
It all came back to me. In horror, I looked down at my clothing. I was wearing the same rugged outdoor clothing I had on when I first entered the Gila National Forest. High above me, framed by an opening in the tall pine trees, were the ancient cliff dwellings looking down on me mockingly.
If one could die of a broken heart, I would have collapsed then and there, stone-cold dead. Had it all been only some fantastic dream? Had I lost possession of my faculties? The cold forgotten, I collapsed to the ground, sitting with my head held in my hands. Had it indeed been nothing more than a cruel delusion?
Snatches of my panicked stampede through the wilderness flooded back to my confused mind. Had I completely lost my grip on reality? In my heart, I didn’t believe it had been only a fantasy. I didn’t want to consider it. Yet, my mind forcefully and dispassionately insisted that was all it had been.
I struggled to my feet, my heart crushed with grief, though I couldn’t say whether the heart-rending emotions crashing over me in furious waves had a basis in reality or were only the product of my imagination. Was this madness?
Then, next to my hiking boot, I saw something glinting in the morning sunlight. I bent down to pick it up. It was a silver disk suspended from a delicate silver chain. I laughed joyfully like a madman, instantly recognizing what it was. It was the unlocking device for the tube.
Frantically, I unbuckled my belt, unbuttoned and unzipped my trousers. I shoved them down to my knees, along with my underwear. But, looking down, I saw no silver metal tube. Instead, there was only my pink, flaccid flesh.
“No, no, no!” I screamed at the forest, my words echoing back cruelly off the bluffs above.
I crumpled to my knees. The momentary joy I’d felt at finding proof it hadn’t all been only an impossible dream was obliterated by a renewed sense of the crushing agony of heartbreak as I recalled what I’d lost. The silver disk was real. I had not been dreaming. Somewhere there was a stunningly beautiful and kind woman, a woman named Idril, a woman I loved more than life itself. She was far away in some distant unnamed galaxy on a strange barbaric world I could never hope to reach again even had I known how to find it.
The Goddess-Queens had kept their promise to me, and I hated them for it. I railed at them. I cursed them aloud until I became incapable of speech. Then I collapsed onto the ground, whimpering and weeping in grief.
◆◆◆
When I walked out of the wilderness into the park’s welcome center, I learned I had been missing for over three months, as we calculate time on Earth. I knew the authorities would confine me to a mental institution if I told them the real story. So, instead, I fabricated one.
I told the forest ranger who interviewed me how a predator I hadn’t been able to see in the dark had stalked me—some wild beast whose presence I’d strongly felt. The jaws of fear had gripped me. I had panicked. I had run wildly and blindly through the wilderness, attempting to escape the animal. That I told him must have been when I’d fallen and struck my head against a rock or some other hard object. It had I claimed rendered me unconscious.
When I had regained consciousness later, I couldn’t remember my name, much less where I was. I told him I had no explanation for how I had survived so long alone in the wilderness. My memory was still fuzzy. But I assumed I must have had some provisions with me and then perhaps had lived on whatever edibles I found in the wild. Then suddenly, I came to my senses and walked back out.
The forest ranger was sympathetic to my plight. He told me they became concerned when I hadn’t returned to the campsite I had registered for or to my vehicle after many days. They had feared I had become lost or injured, and had mounted an all-out two-week search, but had found no sign of me. They had impounded my camping gear and vehicle for safekeeping. Believing I must have
gone into the river or a stream swollen by the heavy rain that had fallen during the time I’d gone missing, they feared I’d drowned. But they had never found my body. Their attempts to locate a next of kin had also been unsuccessful.
At the insistence of the federal authorities, I checked into a local hospital for observation. Two days later, the doctors, amazed that I was unhurt and in top physical condition, gave me a clean bill of health. I checked out of the hospital and collected my Jeep and belongings from the park authorities.
I knew the university would have long since filled the position they had hired me for, and understandably so since I’d never appeared on campus. I returned to upstate New York, at least temporarily. My deceased aunt and uncle, who had raised me, had left me a substantial inheritance, including their home, the house where I’d grown up. I’d closed it up when my aunt had passed away but had never gotten around to selling it.
When I arrived back in New York, I had the utilities restored and moved into the house. I never contacted the dean at Stanford. I knew there would have been too many questions asked. There was no need. A professorship no longer interested me.
Upon my return to New York, I had checked my bank accounts. Not surprisingly, I found I had ample funds. Thanks to the generous inheritance my adoptive parents had left me, I didn’t have to work. Nor did I wish to.
I essentially became a hermit, rarely leaving the house except to replenish the pantry with food or to resupply the liquor cabinet. My hair and beard grew long. Most of the time, I didn’t bother with bathing and never shaved. For over a year, I passed the days drinking liquor and reading until mercifully I passed out in a drunken stupor. When I awakened the next day, I continued as I had left off the previous evening. I became a drunken derelict, a mere shell of the man I had once been.
Near the beginning of the second year, after the Goddess-Queens had returned me to Earth, I tired of the way I’d been living. I resolved to get sober and to amend my ways. I began traveling some and embarked on activities to regain physical fitness.
From some years afterward, at least three or four times each year, I returned to the wilderness of southwest New Mexico. There I camped several days, each time near the rock outcropping below the cliff dwellings. I supposed I hoped if I kept returning, I might once again glimpse a silver spacecraft against the night sky. Perhaps I could get aboard and return to that strange barbaric world with its curious mixture of dated and advanced technologies, Vulvar the world where females ruled.
Desperately, I hoped that the Goddess-Queens, whoever or whatever they were, might summon me back for another mission. Had I not well-served them that time in the past?
Often I wondered about that strange artifact. No one had ever explained what it was, what it was useful for, or why the Goddess-Queens had considered it so valuable. It had appeared as nothing more than a hollow metal box with ancient Egyptian hieroglyphs etched upon it. However, I have never come up with an explanation for why the artifact was so highly magnetic.
◆◆◆
The time has come for this lonely, melancholy man to conclude his narrative. Almost five years have passed since the Goddess-Queens kept their promise and banished me back to Earth. I end my story with some bitterness felt toward them, but without resignation. I have never given up hope of someday returning to Vulvar.
I still miss spending time with and talking with my mother. Regrettably, we never had the chance for her to explain what had happened to my father, or why she had abandoned me and returned to Vulvar when I was only a small child.
Most of all, I still think about Idril, and wonder whether she ever thinks of me and whether perhaps she too longs for us to reunite. That thought always leaves me to marvel at how cruel the Goddess-Queens must be. How heartless they must be to rip lovers so casually from each other’s arms and cast them apart. Who or what are the Goddess-Queens, and what gives them the right to rule over the lives of others with such callous disregard for their wishes and desires?
I’ve often thought, that no matter how frightful their power, or how arduous and dangerous a trek to their stronghold atop Mount Voln might be, if by some miracle I should ever walk upon Vulvar again, I intend to challenge them. If given the chance, I plan to solve the enigma of the Goddess-Queens.
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COMING OCTOBER 2020
An archaeologist from Earth, finds himself once again grasped in the talons of life-threatening danger when he returns to the alien planet Vulvar as this dark fantasy, science fiction saga continues with Rebels of Vulvar.
After many years back on Earth, yearning to return to Vulvar, archaeologist Tobias Hart finds himself transported once again from his placid, uneventful life on Earth to the strange, barbaric world where females rule.
Hart, eager to return to his former role as a chaste male slave, hopes to again find himself in the arms of his true love, a Vulvarian female warrior. Yet he discovers Vulvar has become a world of chaos and upheaval. A large band of rebellious male slaves with a ruthless leader having seized control over one Vulvarian city already, have set their sights on Hart's former city. With Thiva under threat of invasion and defilement and all those he loves at risk, Hart has been called back to Vulvar to carry out another dangerous mission as an agent of the mysterious Goddess-Queens.
Discover a brilliantly imagined world where females are masters and men live to serve their every desire.
Pre-Order Rebels of Vulvar (Vulvarian Saga ● Book 2) Today
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B085HJV3ZH
About the Author
J. K. Spenser, is the pen name of a multi-genre published author who writes both fiction and non-fiction. This is Spenser's first fatasy science fiction novel.