Lost Colony Ch. 11-3

“Fuuuuck,” he groaned. The sensation was outrageous. Sparr was big enough that no one had ever throated him. Even the most skilled partners had managed at most half before they gagged or simply couldn’t stretch their mouths any further. To experience for the first time the feeling of having his entire cock swallowed by a wet, eager mouth was incredible.

“Nice?” Calista giggled after pulling back. A string of saliva ran down her chin. When the nanoswarm realized that Sparr thought it was sexy, the string subtly dripped further to reach her neck.

“Gawwwd yes. Do it again.”

Calista happily obliged, this time not just swallowing him once, but working into a rhythm. Her hands rested lightly on his hips while she plunged her mouth effortlessly over his shaft. One wave after another of dangerous, hot pleasure shot across him. Instead of gagging, Calista let out the occasional wet, slurping sound.

“That feels so fucking good,” Sparr gasped. “What’s it like for you?”

“It’s easy! It’s like sucking a very average dick, perhaps even a bit on the small size. I mean, in my simulation you’re just as hung as you are in real life, but when I put my mouth on it, I can somehow still manage to swallow the whole thing.”

“Everyone’s a winner!”

“Yeah, but mostly you. Check this out.” Like before, Calista readily popped Sparr’s cock into her mouth, then took him until her lips reached the base.

“Ahhh,” Sparr groaned, ready to settle into another round of deep throating. But immediately Calista’s tongue slipped past his cock and found his balls. He gasped aloud as the twin pleasures of a blowjob and ball licking overlapped. Sparr angled his head to watch Calista at her work, mouth stuffed with cock, tongue somehow escaping to swirl around his sack. It was impossible. Only the illusion of it was possible. He didn’t care. It felt incredible.

For a full minute Sparr tumbled into the incalculable bliss. His cock was encased in tight, wet delight, his balls slathered with hot tongue. Ecstasy darted deep into him, and across his skin. The sweet scent of pine blew across him, borne by the gentlest wind. Unseen, birds darted overhead, their calls brightening a late afternoon sky. Faster than he could have imagined, the ecstasy tugged him toward release. His mind, his body, were unprepared for such novel and potent sensations. He had no defenses. He needed to recalibrate.

As if reading his thoughts, Calista pulled back, releasing multiple strings of saliva to swing free. “Hey,” she said huskily, “don’t pop just yet. Remember, we have that-“

Before she could finish her sentence, the scene erupted in chaos. From in front of him, through the trees, a pack of what could only be described as demons burst forth. They were almost human, but with preposterously well-defined muscles, glowing-red skin, and evil twists to their mouths. As Sparr stood frozen in shock they yanked Calista from the ground. Cackling triumphantly, they fled, hauling their prisoner with them.

The game! Foggily, Sparr remembered that Calista had paid extra for some sort of game that would play out during their session. But what were the rules?

He tore across the clearing trying to locate the pack. Somewhere in front of him, lost among the redwoods, he could just make out Calista’s screams. Or rather, he was probably hearing Calista’s voice synthesized into a scream by the simulation. In reality, she was probably cursing or laughing.

The farther he ran, the thicker the pine trees became, pressing in around him. Branches scraped at him, the ground became uneven, and an early darkness seemed to settle in, making the way all but impossible. He began to wonder if he had chosen the wrong path, or responded incorrectly. What was Calista going through?

Finally he stumbled into a clearing similar to, but much more massive than, the one he first had been dropped into. A chasm separated the two halves of the clearing, a flame-licked scar in the earth that made it clear it could not safely be crossed. A bridge connected the two sides, wide enough for the sumptuous bed at its center. From the far side he could hear Calista’s cries. The game suddenly became clear. He would have to rescue her before they could complete their session on the bed. He sprinted forward.

“Mmmm, not so fast, mortal.”

A simulation sprang from the soil, growing from a flower into a woman in an instant. Her skin was as blue as the Caribbean, with writhing patterns that called to mind water playing on waves. She was slender and leggy, but with full, impossibly buoyant breasts, and an improbable, narrow waist. Bright yellow eyes burned, equally beautiful and disturbing.

Still focused on reaching Calista, Sparr tried to dash past the simulation, but found his feet bound to the spot. Tree roots curled around his feet and ankles, holding him tight.

“You caught one, Naia! He’s perfect!”

Another virtual companion had sprung from the ground, her voice thick with malice and lust, skin glowing like lava. Like the first, her lean, yet voluptuous body was too perfect to exist, looking more like a superhero or a character from a holo-game. Together, they nudged him to his back, where another set of tree roots quickly bound his wrists.

“Yes Laampa, I think he is. And, I believe we’re earned some fun.”

Sparr tested his bonds. The twisting roots yielded slightly, their touch against his skin surprisingly soft. But each time he struggled they simply tightened again. He was held fast.

The pair of simulations knelt at his midsection. The one with the fiery skin, Laampa, lifted his cock, her skin quite warm against him. She began to stroke it, but without breaking eye contact with Sparr. Coal-black eyes swimming with golden fire bore into him.

Now Naia, the oceanic beauty, leaned in, darting her tongue against his sack. A flash of pleasure shot into him, then doubled. Her tongue was at least twice normal length, wrapping around his balls in a warm, slick ribbon of ecstasy.

“Oh, fuck,” Sparr gasped.

“Yesss,” Laampa said, with wicked sweetness. She too, bent to him, slipping her hot lips down his shaft in a single plunge.

Any awareness that he was in a simulation had melted away. Sparr no longer, even with a shred of his mind, considered how the nanoswarm continued to learn, to measure his response, and adjust accordingly. Naia’s tongue simply knew just the right amount of pleasure to apply to his balls, the perfect wetness. Laampa’s mouth was exactly as snug as it should be, encasing his straining flesh completely in exquisite warmth.

“Shiiit,” Sparr panted. He no longer struggled against his bonds, couldn’t recall why he had ever wanted to. The roots slipped away, leaving him a willing prisoner of two magical spirits, one of water, one of fire.

“I need it,” Naia said, her voice just tinged with lust. “That mortal cock.” As the other spirit pulled back, Naia vaulted atop him. Greedy, yellow eyes locked on Sparr as she wriggled the head of his cock into her slit, then impaled herself on him. “Oh Laampa,” she groaned, “he’s big.”

“He’s ours,” her fellow spirit moaned. “Use him!”

Naia did just that, slowly grinding on his rigid shaft while hair the color of sea foam danced and tossed around her. “I love mortal flesh,” she cooed, dragging her nails across his chest, “so fresh and alive.” Her slit clenched and eased mercilessly.

Sparr’s entire body was alive with almost unmanageable stimulation. Soft grasses tickled his back, while the breeze carried the scent of pine mingled with… what, brimstone? But mostly the delicious slickness of her snug, wet slit consumed him. Naia picked up her pace.

“Fuuuck.” Sparr was tumbling toward the abyss. Surely he wasn’t supposed to cum with the spirits, as much as he was ready to. That had to be the point of the game, to enjoy the simulation, but hold out for the climax with Calista. But at this pace he wouldn’t last much longer.

Then, slowly but unmistakably, the intensity of the sensations eased. Naia’s insides weren’t quite as blissful. She pumped him just as fast, but he was no longer quite as dangerously close to release. Even when the water spirit leaned forward, tickling him with her hair and pressing her full, soft breasts against his chest, he clung to control.

“Oh,” the spirit panted, “it’s so good.” She was riding him ever faster now, her body slapping against him. Perspiration dripped from her body to his, cool as spring rain. “I don’t think I can… I can’t… oh… oh fuuuuuck!” Naia came with an ecstatic shudder, arching her shoulders back as her breasts quivered and bounced. Her face, beautiful and terrible, shone with absolute bliss. Her pussy clamped him tight.

“Naia, you’re greedy,” Laampa pouted, or at least pouted as much as a fire spirit with glowing skin can. “You got to cum, and I haven’t even had a taste yet!”

It was another half minute before the water spirit regained control, shuddering through the last of her intense orgasm. Still panting, she looked sheepishly at her friend. “But it had been sooo long, Laampa.” She drew in a deep breath. “Will you let me make it up to you?”

Naia rolled off with a wink, her slit dripping with arousal. With no break for Sparr’s over-stimulated cock, the fire demon quickly mounted him. Her touch was unnaturally warm and, as she took him, Sparr learned how hot her slit was. Unlike her sister, Laampa didn’t lay atop him, but kept herself straight. She began to bounce and grind, taking her pleasure selfishly, while treating Sparr to the sight of her perfect, writhing body.

Nor did her sea-born sister ignore her promise. Having caught her breath, Naia slunk to Laampa’s side, embracing and kissing her. She darted her tongue into an ear, kissed her neck, and tasted the fire spirit’s smouldering skin. When she reached a breast, Naia’s glistening, improbably long tongue flicked out to circle and tease a nipple.

Laampa groaned with delight. “Oooh, yes. His cock, your tongue…” Her eyes fluttered shut as Naia tongued and sucked first one nipple then the other.

The scene was incredibly erotic, starring gorgeous women half from legend, half from his own desires. Naia tongued, teased, and pleasured her friend, while Laampa bore her black, fiery eyes into Sparr. Again, he was swept toward release, only to feel the intensity of the sensations ease. Though incredibly turned on, he wouldn’t cum. Not yet.

Somewhere, barely audible, Sparr heard Calista’s cries. Whether cries of pleasure or distress he couldn’t tell, but the sound pulled him from his passive state. He had to finish his encounter with the spirits, then rescue her. With a renewed focus he grabbed Laampa, rolling her onto her back while Naia fell away, confused. The fire spirit struggled against him, but he quickly pinned her and started to pump. “Yeah,” he grunted, “take some mortal cock, good and hard.”

Defiance flashed in her eyes, but a smile followed. Laampa was happy to be taken, letting Sparr do the work of driving his cock deep into her steamy slit.

“Come here!” Sparr commanded Naia. “Keep sucking her tits.”

Startled, but unable to deny him, Naia crept forward, lay on the grass, and once again began to tongue and suck the fire spirit’s breasts. Laampa arched her back, twisting against the grass.

He could do anything, he realized, within the boundaries of the simulation. He simply had to make the second spirit cum and he could move on. Whenever he got too close to orgasm the nanoswarm eased up, sometimes providing only the whisper of sensation against his cock. He decided to take full advantage.

“What’s it like?” he demanded. “How does her skin feel against your tongue?”

“Really hot,” Naia whimpered. “My poor tongue.”

“Keep at it. We’re going to make her cum.”

“Oh, my pussyyyyyy!” Laampa writhed, pinned by Sparr’s hands on her shoulders, his cock buried in her slit, and Naia’s tongue wickedly circling and sucking at her nipples. There was no defiance left in her gaze, only the growing acceptance of her approaching orgasm.

“Yeah, fuck!” Sparr wasn’t sure if he could hold back, no matter how carefully the simulation kept him from release. The two impossibly beautiful and exotic women, their submissive behavior, the erotically charged scene… but somehow he hung on. Laampa came first.

“Oh, mortal defiler!” she sobbed, twisting beneath him. “Fuh, huuuuck!” Her skin steamed where Naia’s tongue teased and licked her seemingly molten flesh. Heat surged in her vise of a slit. For an achingly long moment Laampa lay rigid with ecstasy. When at last the torrent of bliss subsided, she collapsed, panting. Naia, also exhausted, lay next to her. They were spent.

Sparr, with a relieved groan, tugged himself free and stood. In the simulation, and surely in the tank as well, his cock was diamond hard, eager to finish. He staggered forward toward the bridge and the bed, confident that he would find Calista there.

He did. As he approached the bridge, virtual Calista, wearing the form drawn from Sparr’s imagination half an hour earlier, staggered into view, tan skin gleaming with perspiration. Her eyes were wide, seeking desperately until she located him. The two ran together.

“They didn’t let you cum, did they?”

The question, unexpected and out of context, tore a laugh from Sparr. “No…”

“Me neither!” Calista’s voice was thick with frustration. “It’s your job now, big guy.”

Sparr didn’t need any encouragement. He lifted Calista from her feet and threw her onto the bed at the center of the bridge. The fires that smouldered either side of them visibly subsided, while a fresh breeze carried away any lingering hint of smoke. It was time.

Calista lay back, wiggling her hips playfully, while parting her legs in an unmistakable motion. The contrast between her darkly-tanned skin and the crisp white sheets was striking, as were her blue eyes set in half-Asian features. Her slit, when he took her, was slippery and inviting.

“Yesss.” Calista rose to meet him. She was ready, her body trembling and warm. Whatever trials she had been put through must have been just as pleasurable as Sparr’s. “Finish me hard.”

He lay forward, perching himself just above her. Sparr’s eyes drank in her exotic beauty while he built into an ever faster pace. Calista’s breasts quivered.

“Yeah, work it in there,” she said raggedly. Calista’s skin was already flushed. Like Sparr it wouldn’t take much to send her over the edge.

“Fuuuck,” he gasped. The swarm was no longer limiting the sensations flooding him. Warm skin pressed against his was just as seductive, Calista’s fingers digging into his biceps felt just as tight. Each deep thrust into her welcoming slit was just as blissful as one would be in person.

“Shit!” Calista groaned, turning to the dirty talk she sometimes used when at her most aroused. “Gaawd I want it… fuck me!”

He was almost there. Sparr’s hips slapped against Calista’s toned body, the sound echoing through the clearing. His breath was as ragged as hers, perspiration dripping from his chest. “Hooo yeah, that’s fucking nice. Your pussy.”

“Fill it! Shoot in me, Alain, fuck!” Calista tensed, nails digging into him hard.

At the very end did the swarm ensure that they came together? Did Sparr’s level of sensation ease up, preventing him from popping before Calista did, or was it their ability to read each other that the pair had established over several sessions? It didn’t matter. In the shared tank, separated by only a few inches, but in scenes that were continents apart, they embraced ecstasy together.

“Hunhhh,” Sparr cried out. In the scene he pulled out, shooting a spectacular rope of cum to slap against Calista’s chest and neck, cream against her tan skin. While the orgasm howled around him he plunged in once more, deposited another glob of cum then pulled out again. Another blast erupted, this time hitting her mouth perfectly.

Calista tumbled into the abyss with him. When he re-entered her, the virtual brunette’s pussy clamped down. “Fuh, huuuck!” she sobbed, arching her back and twisting her taut body against him. Long delayed, the orgasm tore through her, clamping her eyes shut while her lips parted. Cum dripped from her chin and breasts.

Sparr collapsed, wrecked and depleted. Beneath him, Calista shuddered through the last of her orgasm, her pussy clenching and releasing, milking the last of his cum. When at last the two were spent, they melted into each other’s arms, drawing in lungfuls of air.

“What did those demons do to you?” Sparr asked.

“I promise you, Alain,” Calista said, “you don’t want to know.”


The ice crossing remained a twisted combination of seductive ease and sharp discomfort.

After he left the outpost behind, Sparr enjoyed two days of easy travel. The skies were clear, winds calm, and navigation simple. Once, crossing a bay, he spotted a sailing ship struggling through the chop. While he flew high above, the ship pitched and tossed in the cruel sea, its crew and passengers no doubt unable even to sleep. Any worry that he had chosen the wrong path was wiped away as he imagined their misery.

Other times, however, it was all he could do to survive the night. Wind howled across the tundra, unchecked by forest or protective ridges. Those nights he and Bogg would huddle miserably on the floor of the air car, shivering and alert, while wild creatures yipped or howled about them. Some days, the light was so dim that the solar panels struggled to charge the car. Thus stranded, Sparr would escort Bogg through a grey afternoon as the creature turned over rocks or logs in the hope of finding dinner. Later, he would cook yet another sad meal of dried meat or beans, struggling to recall the faces of those he had left behind on Earth.

But overall he made excellent progress. If Sparr lost a day of travel waiting for the car to charge, he was more often rewarded with three or four days of steady flight. He grew more skilled at judging whether or not a crossing was safe, where he could shelter the night safely, and whether a distant reflection was a water source or an ice-scraped rock. He would survive.

And there were pleasures beyond mere survival. Bogg discovered several varieties of sweet, edible berries, and a mushroom which reminded Sparr of one he might have found on Earth. When added to his stew, the aroma, taste, and additional texture provided a welcome break. Then there were the animals. Migratory birds from southern latitudes dotted the skies and tundra, their shrieks and calls a sharp contrast with the dull rumble of the waves. Lumbering aquatic mammals, imposing and territorial, staked out patches of shoreline, keeping an eye on him from a distance. Such sights were intriguing, but also painful reminders of his wrecked mission. He should be cataloging the creatures, not just flying past.

On clear nights the stars were captivating, a sprinkling of tiny diamonds tossed against the velvet sky. On those evenings, as he drifted to sleep, Sparr could almost imagine he was merely on an exotic vacation.

The Portal, when at last he reached it, seemed to appear all at once. One moment Sparr was skimming along in the air car, keeping the shore just in sight to his left. The next, as he lifted the vehicle over the lip of a glacial valley, he was presented with a view of the entire complex. He drew in an almost involuntary breath.

If the cave at the Precipice outpost had been impressive, its sister towering over the Portal compound was terrifying. It was at least twice the diameter, gleaming with ice both at its rim, and around the gently sloping interior. Sunlight reached within, lighting the perfectly circular tunnel for almost a quarter of a kilometer before fading into darkness. Vultures, or their Kaybe equivalent, circled above, floating on the column of humid air billowing out.

Trying his best to keep anyone from spotting the car, Sparr landed near the top of the ridge to get a more leisurely look. Below the cave, the Portal compound was arranged in a collection of tidy squares, each bordered by buildings with peaked roofs. Paths, some elevated to remain level across the rock and ice littered tundra, connected the squares. There were signs of cookfires wafting from two of the buildings, and Sparr made out the shapes of both women and men. Farther down yet, a road led to a single dock, jutting into the bay.

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