Lost Colony Ch. 13-3

At last Mille moved. From the dynamic in the room, including her skimpy attire, Sparr guessed that Mille had walked into the tent knowing what would be asked. Her token resistance had been for show. Now she reached back and unfastened the silky top.

“Do you like what you see, stranger?” she asked as the garment slipped away.

“Yes,” Sparr said unhesitatingly. Mille’s willowy body would have looked beautiful in any light, but in the tent, with the warm glow of the lamps flickering over her pale skin, Sparr found her intoxicating.

“Mmm.” Mille didn’t sound convinced, but continued to undress. She kicked off the slippers she had worn into the tent, then unfastened her own wrap.

“Is he still hard?”

“Yes, Mother. I believe he did like Sianna’s hands on him, but he likes me, too.”

“Is that true, stranger? What do you like about my hunter?”

“Her body,” Sparr said. “Sleek and strong, like a gazelle. Swift.”

The words pleased both Mille and the matriarch. “How will you take him?” asked the Mother.

“He will please me first.” Mille settled herself on the rugs then lay back, spreading her legs. Sparr caught a wet glint of arousal.

Sparr should have taken offense at being directed and used. The Precipice surely had paid the Klee to rescue him. Now, before handing him over, he was obligated to pleasure and fuck Mille. But this was Kaybe. How many women had he fucked in the past year? His journey has been a tapestry of lust, exhibitionism, three-ways, role-playing, and tenderness. Another night of bliss would hardly move the needle.

He would tease her first. Sparr knelt, lifted Mille’s leg, and kissed her ankle. When he met her eyes, there was little response, but as he kissed down her calf the hunter’s eyes flickered briefly shut. He reached her knee, edging inside to tongue the soft inside at the back.

“He’s kissing up my leg,” Mille said, not forgetting the Mother’s instruction. “It’s nice, but he needs to get to it.”

Sparr pressed his tongue, hard and flat, against Mille’s tender flesh. The slightest movement gave her away, a subtle spreading of her legs. He tongued, kissed, and licked, advancing slowly, ignoring Mille’s gyrating hips. When he reached her slit, instead of tonguing her nub, he only let out a hot breath. He kissed her other thigh.

“Fuck!” Mille panted. “He’s teasing me.”

The Mother laughed, thin and reedy. “He isn’t one of our men to be ordered about.”

He had named Mille a gazelle, and so she was. Graceful legs curled around his back while supple hips writhed against the rugs. Sparr kissed back toward her dampness, let another lungful of air spill across her, then offered his tongue.


Sparr circled her nub and gently sucked her clit. Like him, Mille must have scrubbed herself with the fine sand. Alongside her natural musk, Sparr inhaled hints of spice.

“Mmm.” Mille’s legs locked tighter around Sparr’s back, encouraging him. “Not teasing me any more,” she groaned. “Fuck.”

“Is he skilled?” The matriarch had her head cocked attentively, listening for any nuance.

When Mille didn’t reply, Waii stepped in. “He must be, Mother. Her eyes are closed. She likes the foreigner’s tongue.”

“Yeah, oh,” Mille groaned, then added, “Oh, fuck!” when Sparr carefully guided a digit into her slit. “His thick finger.”

Probing and testing, Sparr explored what the hunter did and didn’t respond to. Sucking her clit while pumping her with a finger drew an immediate response.

“Yeah, yeah,” Mille gasped. “Like that. Your finger. Your mouth.” She curled her fingers into his hair. “I’m holding him in place, Mother, making him pleasure me.”

He was happy to oblige. Mille was deliciously responsive, grinding her hips and trembling as he pressed against her g-spot. Like the Mother, Sparr listened intently as Mille’s breath quickened, as her thighs squirmed against the rug.

“What is the scene? Tell me, Waii.”

From somewhere behind him, Waii dutifully chronicled what she saw. “Mille is lying back, propping her head against a rolled rug, the one I’m always afraid you’ll trip over.”

“I know the way around my own chambers, child.”

“Yes, of course.” Waii returned to her description. “The stranger is between her legs. She has her fingers in his hair and her legs draped over his back, but she looks tiny next to him.”

“Fuuuck!” Mille moaned, as if she wanted to object, but was too taken by pleasure to articulate it.

“Will you take his tongue only, Mille? Is he too big?” The mother was taunting her now.

For another moment Mille said nothing, only twisted before him. Sparr didn’t know her body well yet, hadn’t shared a bed often enough to learn her secret signs. But he knew when a woman was close. It might be fifteen seconds or it might be three minutes, but Mille was going to cum. Except the Mother’s taunting caught up with her.

“No,” Mille said, gasping. With little warning she pushed Sparr from her, and half raised herself into a seated position. “No, I want it.” She was still trembling, little tremors that rippled her belly and thighs.

Sparr’s face was drenched with Mille’s slickness and his own saliva. He wiped it away with the back of his hand, regarding her hungrily. A woman so responsive to oral would welcome him inside her with equal passion.

“On your back, stranger.”

In another situation Sparr might have said Sure, you do the work, or Yeah, ride my cock. Instead, he simply flopped onto his back. There was no need for talk.

“Is he ready for you?” The Mother wanted to know.

“Still hard,” Mille said. She tossed her hair to one side and vaulted on top of him, every bit the hunter. “I’m going to rub my pussy on him, get him wet like me.”

Sparr watched as Mille did as she promised, easing her slit forward and backwards along his shaft. When she was ready, the lithe hunter slid to the tip and began to wriggle herself onto him, the first taste of bliss.

“The head is fat, but I can do it.”

Could she? Mille pushed herself onto him, brow furrowing in discomfort. Her second attempt drew much the same reaction, but after another five or six tries she was able to take him deeper. “Fuck,” she whispered, too soft for anyone but Sparr to hear.

“She can do it,” Waii said. She had stepped to the side, giving herself a better view of the action. “But she’s feeling it.”

“You want to try?” Mille panted. “He’s as thick as my wrist.”

“I wouldn’t mind,” Waii said. Her eyes swept over Sparr’s body. “I like ’em big.”

Sparr turned to her. Waii was more compact, but just as athletic. It wasn’t difficult to picture her in Mille’s place, riding him selfishly, taking his cum only once she was sated.

“Fuuuck,” Mille gasped, this time loud enough for all to hear. She leaned closer now, her unbound black hair spilling onto Sparr’s chest. Her breath was ragged, hot against his skin. She had taken him.

The tent was quiet for a minute as Mille did little more than press against Sparr, growing accustomed to his manhood, but eventually the Mother grew impatient.

“How does it feel, child? Tell me!”

“He’s in me so deep, Mother.” Mille’s voice was a barely audible groan.

“Does it hurt?”


“Does it feel good?”

“Yesss,” Mille moaned. “It hurts. It feels good. Fuuuck!”

“Mmm,” the Mother said. “Take what you want from him.”

Mille wriggled on Sparr’s rod. “You’re all wet from me now,” she said, her breath still ragged. “Means it will be easier.” She was just above him, peering through the cloud of fine hair. “I’ll conquer you.”

Again, Sparr noticed that whatever cream Waii had applied was dulling his sensations. “The Mother says you have a strong appetite.”

“I do,” Mille said. Her grin was predatory. “I have two men,” she said, gauging Sparr’s reaction. “I make one wait while I empty the first.” Slowly at first, with an occasional sign of discomfort, she slid down, up, then repeated. “Then I fuck the second.”

“You fuck them, not the other way around?” Sparr rested his hand lightly on Mille’s forearm, the merest suggestion of a grip.

“I know what I like, and I take it.” She was starting to establish a rhythm.

“Lucky them.”

“Lucky you.” Mille’s gaze was possessive, confident.

“I’m guessing they don’t last long with you on top.” The numbing cream helped, but the sensation was still sweet.

“Nnnnope. Enjoy the best minute of your life.”

“I was hoping for another minute and a half, at least.”

“What are you two whispering?” The Mother asked. “I can’t hear you.”

“I don’t think he’s been bedded by a Klee before, Mother. Doesn’t know how quickly I’ll empty him.”

“Is it always a conquest, child, or do you also pursue pleasure?”

“Both,” Mille said languidly. She was speaking with the Mother, but her eyes were locked on Sparr. “The moment I take a man’s seed… there’s nothing like it.”

For a time the two exchanged no more words. Mille slid back and forth, now fully into her rhythm. Her slight body trembled, small breasts on a willowy frame. Her eyes slid shut as her jet hair tossed and swept around him, tickling Sparr’s chest and face. Each stroke of her slit eroded his control. Each inch of his cock that Mille devoured dragged her closer to the edge.

“F-f-f-fuck,” Mille groaned. Pleasure and fatigue conspired against her. The hunter was tiring, slumping forward in the process. Soon they were skin to skin, Sparr’s senses on overload with her slickness on his cock, the spiced scent of her sleek body, and her lips inches from his ear. He raised a hand to rest it on her shoulder.

“I’m not sure she can finish him, Mother.” Sparr could hear the hint of satisfaction in Waii’s voice.

“I can,” Mille insisted. She was still grinding slowly and sweetly against Sparr. “It’s just…”

“Here,” Sparr whispered in her ear. With his hands on her shoulder and upper arm he pushed Mille onto his cock. Once he eased his grip, she slid back up. He repeated the motion with a bit more force.

“Oh,” Mille said.

“Yeah. Together, like this.”

With Sparr pushing, and Mille pulling, the two quickly picked up speed. Bliss once again embraced him. Sparr tightened his grip, now undeniably in control. He eyed the Asian beauty, taking in her ecstatic features. Her eyes had slid shut, soft lips parted. Her hair haloed around them like a second tent.

Mille let out a long groan. “Yesss.”

“Who’s fucking who?” Sparr whispered.

“Mmmm.” Mille was either lost in ecstasy or unwilling to answer.

“I said who’s fucking who?” he repeated. He slowed his pumping, teasing her.

“You,” Mille moaned. “You are, please.”

“Yeah, fuck.” Mille’s confession was powerfully erotic to Sparr, a confirmation of their evolving dynamic. “Your pussy is sweet.”

“Yes,” she said softly. “You fill it so good.”

“She likes the foreigner,” Waii said.

“Is she conquering him?” the matriarch wanted to know.

Waii chuckled. “I think they’re conquering each other.”

Neither of them would last much longer. Sparr greedily drove Waii onto his cock ever faster, slapping their bodies together. The hunter panted and trembled, her breath as ragged as his. Their perspiration mingled.

“Fuuuck,” Sparr groaned. He was drawing near the abyss. “You want my seed?”

“Yes, yes, fuck! Shoot it in me.”

“Unnh,” he gasped. “Cum on it. Clench your pussy when I burst.”

Sparr savored one last look at Mille. She was as close to the brink as he was, her body taut, breasts quivering, mouth open in ecstasy. She was like a puppet in his hands, letting him use her, but also drawing her pleasure from his flesh. Sparr tried to hold on, to stretch the moment out. For several delicious seconds he perched on the edge. At last, he tumbled.

“Nnnn, ahhh,” Sparr gasped as raw pleasure flooded him. He dug his hands into Mille as his balls first tensed, then ejected a blast of cum into her depths. His entire body was rigid.

“Ooooh,” Mille cried out. “Oh, oh…” Her pussy went tight, imprisoning his cock as the beauty shuddered and came.

The couple was bound by ecstasy. Sparr pulsed another thick dollop of cum into Mille as she twisted against him. He held her painfully tight as the hunter returned the favor, digging her fingers into his shoulder. Mille’s orgasm was a near convulsion, all clenched pussy, squeezing thighs, and writhing torso.

“Fuuck!” Sparr emptied the last of his cum into Mille’s welcoming depths. Her slit was awash in an impossibly slick mix of cum and the juice of her arousal. Even Mille’s pussy clamping down couldn’t stop Sparr from pumping, drawing out every second of bliss. When at last Mille collapsed on him, spent, even Waii had nothing to say.


“We’re almost there.”

As she had two days prior, Waii easily navigated the reed thin trail higher into the mountains, hopping gracefully over roots and rocks while Sparr did his best to keep up. The pair had started out at dawn after Sparr was given a more suitable set of clothing, boots, and a satchel with several day’s worth of dried food. They climbed for an hour as the swiftly-moving moon Feta sank, and the planet’s gentle star rose. Now the ground began to flatten, allowing Sparr to catch his breath.

“What was that all about in the tent last night?” he asked.

“What do you think?” she laughed. “A little show for the Mother’s entertainment.”

But Sparr hadn’t missed the dynamic in the tent. “There was more to it than that.”

Waii ignored him for a moment, seemingly intent only on making progress along the trail. At last she shrugged. “Mille won’t chew the menstrual herb this week.”

He had long suspected that women on Kaybe had some natural birth control, but the comment still got Sparr’s attention. “She wants to have my child?”

“The Mother wants her to.” Waii shot a glance over her shoulder, gauging Sparr’s reaction. “She believes it is time for new blood in our tribe.”

“Did you ever think to ask me?” Sparr was dumbfounded.

“You’re a man,” Waii said, airly. “We don’t ask.”

Sparr shook his head, stunned at the casual way he had been used, but hardly surprised. “Why not someone else, then? Why not you?”

Again Waii favored him with a glance, this one tinged with a smile. “Would you have liked that?”

“Well, apparently my opinion doesn’t count. I’m just curious why the Mother chose Mille, not you.”

“Our paths, mine and Mille’s, are diverging. I will lead the tribe when the Mother passes. Mille had wished for the honor, but her path is even more critical. She is taller and swifter. The child she will bear from your seed will grow the tribe. Others will follow, also from outsiders.”

Sparr was about to inquire further, but finally Waii slowed. The two had reached a level area, an alpine meadow bursting with wildflowers. Here the stream ran slowly, a shadow of the icy torrent it was at lower elevations. When Sparr sought its origin his eyes spotted a cave at the far side of the clearing. As if reading his mind, Waii led him there.

“We have to get wet,” Waii said. With no further explanation she waded ankle deep into the stream.

Sparr followed, the shock of the frigid water by now a daily occurrence. The pair splashed through the shallow water, the sound echoing off of the low ceiling and walls. The light dimmed before them, but not so much that Sparr couldn’t make out a gravel bank with a lone occupant.

“Chael,” Waii said, allowing herself a smile.

The man would on Earth have been called ‘stubby’. He stood no more than five foot-six, but was broad shouldered and thick of arm. An imposing nose dominated otherwise plain features, topped with thick, curly hair and an unruly beard. His skin, even in the dim light of the cave, had a warm tone. And despite the chill, the man wore only a pair of short pants, tied at the knees.

“Waii,” he said, warmly. “Of course you’re right on schedule.” He looked at Sparr, his expression still amiable. “You’re Alain.”

Sparr nodded, still unsure what was happening. He had expected to be handed over to the Precipice. Was the stranger just another guide along his path, or had he made a poor guess about who had paid for his rescue?

“As promised,” Chael said. He handed Waii a bag clinking with tokens. The Precipice, or whomever, had paid dearly for his freedom.

For the first time, Sparr noticed a boat pulled up onto the shore. It most closely resembled a rowboat, with the oars set near the back, and a relatively long area up front. Unusual for a rowboat, it also featured a small tiller.

“Are we going boating?”

“You are.” After conferring briefly with Chael, the hunter turned back to Sparr. “I have to go back to my people. In any event, it is forbidden for me to go further.”

“Wait,” Sparr said, trying to read both Waii and Chael. “It’s forbidden for you, but okay for me?”

“Not exactly,” Chael said. He was studying Sparr, enjoying the spacefarer’s confusion. “It’s completely forbidden. But, sometimes we break the rules. Here, help me with this.”

Sparr helped Chael drag the boat into the water. Behind them Waii turned to go, giving no sign of what they had shared. The hunter had risked her life to free him. They had immersed their naked bodies side by side in the numbing current, then crawled forth to once more do battle. Waii had watched as he and Mille had fucked, calling a play-by-play for the Mother. And all of this in less than forty-eight hours. To Sparr it remained extraordinary what a single day on Kaybe could hold. To Waii it must be mundane.

Sparr finished pushing the boat into the stream. When he turned back she was gone.


“You’ll get used to it.”

Sparr had only seen glow worms on Earth once, a small colony of the magical creatures kept alive in a researcher’s lab at Johns Hopkins. Now the animals, millions of them surely, spread above him in a single sweeping constellation. In the Stygian darkness of the cave they were the only light. Still, there was no horizon, no sense of depth or perspective. The boat might have been turned sideways, going forward, backward, or sinking. Whatever pattern Chael spotted in the tendrils above them was imperceptible to Sparr. Only his companion’s unflinching optimism gave him confidence.

“I can’t even tell if we’re going in a straight line,” Sparr admitted.

“Straight line?” Chael laughed. “There’s no such thing here, but I can promise you we’re on course.” He seemed to row tirelessly.

“So how did you learn these waters?”

The boat jerked suddenly, as Chael steered them around some unseen obstacle or stray current. “I was born here,” he explained. “Spent more time on these subterranean rivers than those above ground.”

“I caught a glimpse of your complexion. You don’t look like someone who rarely sees the sun.”

Again, Sparr was treated to Chael’s easy laugh. “My parents. I mean, I don’t know this part for sure, but I’m told they were olive farmers. Or rather, my dad was. My mom was a Precipice priestess who, ah… converted him.”

Parts began to fall into place. “So you are with the Precipice?”

“Well now, that’s complicated. I was raised by the Precipice. I speak some of the language, know a few secrets, but their world is pretty narrow, you understand?”

Sparr understood. The few priests he had met were kept busy with recording history and sharing the sect’s austere philosophy. It was a wonder more of the youth didn’t choose a different direction. “So you work for them, but aren’t necessarily a believer.”

“Oh… oh, I believe. Don’t disrupt the natural environment. Hard to argue with that.” For a moment he was quiet, either lost in his thoughts or attending to navigation. “Like I said, I wasn’t ready to be a priest, dedicating my entire life to the Precipice, but I do like being on the water. It’s peaceful.”

It was certainly quiet. Their words echoed against the rock of the cave walls and water dripped from the oars, but there were no birds to call or sing, no wind whispering against tree branches. Sparr found it more eerie than peaceful. Nor could he judge the passing of time. Had they been traveling for one hour or half a day?

Leave a Comment