Every Man's Fantasy Ch. 18

"Ezra, what's your plan?" Mirselene asked.

"Solange is here with two horses. I'm going to ask Wildchild to go to the Cloner City to fetch Yumi. Solange will bring some more horses to the meeting place tomorrow morning."

"Very well. ... Annela, will you find Wildchild and send her here? Then you've got this evening to say goodbye to everyone. Off you go. Ezra and I need to talk."

Annela picked up Freya and went to find Wildchild.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you, Mirselene, ..." Ezra began, but she cut him off.

"Forget that. I want to apologise to you."

"To me? Why?"

"For making you look weak in front of Annela. I know you would've persuaded her sooner or later but I see no reason to allow her to delay. ... I don't blame you for being soft-hearted, Ezra, despite what I said. In fact, I rejoice in it. Think what a tyrant you could be to us women if you weren't soft-hearted?"

"I would never be a tyrant."

"I know, Ezra. I know. That's what pleases me most about you. You're a good man. We might not be so lucky when other men come."

Ten minutes later, Solange and Wildchild were trotting through the forest. When they reached the meeting place, they parted company. Wildchild rode hard for the Herder's Northern Camp while Solange galloped back to the Midway Camp.

Next morning, all the Woodlanders were at the meeting-place to say goodbye to Annela. She endured the tiring walk carrying Freya, helped as often as she would permit by her friends.

Solange and Ash brought three spare horses. Carlin, Tamar and Ezra were riders. Annela and Erin were passengers.

There was a last argument about whether or not Annela could take Freya with her. Although Ezra took Annela's side, saying he would carry their daughter, Mirselene's counsel prevailed. Freya would be far more upset at seeing her mother go to sleep in the pod than she would be at being left behind now. Annela had no strength to resist anymore. She bowed her head and submitted.

The tribe kissed Annela goodbye. There were many tears and some loud crying. Pepi was distraught. Mirselene herself had shining eyes as she kissed Annela on the mouth. Casti wept openly. Erin staved off becoming a wreck only because she was to ride behind her daughter.

Annela spent a long time kissing and hugging Freya, who followed the general mood and remained quiet. With Ezra's help, Annela climbed up on a pony behind Tamar. A doubled-up blanket made the seat soft and leather stirrups for her feet helped her stay on. Annela held Tamar tightly and an extra rope bound the girls around the waist, just in case Annela blacked out and started to fall.

Then they were off at a fast trot, downhill onto the plain beyond the outlying clumps of trees and forest stragglers, not looking back.

They cantered for a while, to see if Annela could manage the jolting and shaking. In fact, the shaking distracted from the headache that started as soon as they left. It was the searing biting kind, the one that took all her strength to fight and deprived her of sleep.

At noon, they stopped at a stream to water and feed the horses. Here they were caught up by Wildchild, who had collected Yumi from the Cloner City yesterday and galloped all the way.

They continued the journey at a walk.

At mid-afternoon, when they were only five miles from the salvage site, Solange pointed out a small cloud of dust to the south. It was something she'd been looking out for. The cloud grew closer by the minute and soon they heard, carried on the wind, the thunder of horses' hooves and wild high-pitched cries. Eventually, the cause of the commotion appeared: almost the whole Herder Tribe galloped across the plain in a line abreast, whooping and shouting, waving their spears in the air.

Annela's party waited for the Herders to arrive.

The braves formed a large circle around Annela's group, raised their spears in a salute and gave another loud shout. A woman rode out of the circle and stood her panting horse before Annela. Dust settled around its fetlocks. Sweat glistened on its neck and flanks.

She winked at Solange then addressed Annela in a loud voice.

"Annela Freyasdaughter Woodlander," she called out: "I am Galatea, Acting-Chief of the Herders, and I'm proud to lead the Honour-Guard to escort you to the Life-Pod!"

"Life-Pod!" Ezra whispered admiringly to Wildchild, whose horse stood next to his. "Your mother has a gift for advertising. I'd never have thought to call it that."

Annela had been dozing. It took her a few second to wake up.

She blinked in the bright sunshine.

"Honour-Guard?" she asked.

"A dignified escort to your Life-Pod," Galatea explained.

"Thank you, Madam, but I don't understand."

"The Woodlanders are doing it all wrong! You don't enter the Life-Pod with moping and tears. You enter it with songs and dances, with a torchlight procession and loud cheers - the same celebrations that will greet you when you exit the Life-Pod to be cured!"

Annela was overwhelmed. Sadness was inevitable, but this was the way to put a brave face on it. She smiled.

"Thank you, Madam," she said.

"Are you ready?" Galatea asked.

"Yes, Madam, I am."

"Then give your orders."

It was cheesy but Annela played her part. She sat up straight and addressed the Herders.

"Honour-guard!" she said.

The Herders sat at attention.

"To the Life-Pod!" Annela commanded.

"To the Life-Pod!" the Herders shouted, flourishing their spears or clashing them together. The roar was amazing. They turned, spurred their horses and, whooping for joy, began the charge to the Salvage Camp. Gradually picking up speed, the line of Herders trampling the grass before them, the party covered the last half-mile at a gallop.

With the exhausted horses led away to water, the excited women quickly prepared the salvage site, raising tents and clearing the sand away from the pods, rescuing them from burial in the constantly creeping dunes.

While the women bustled about, Yumi and Ezra prepared the pod and Annela sat with Erin under a tent-roof looking out to sea. The Herders brought logs, torches and bags of food. They laid the fire for a feast and, as the clouds began to form over the bright ocean, lit the logs, setting food to cook, heating soup and baking flatbreads.

The women ate sitting around the campfire, singing or humming cheerful tunes, occasionally clapping and standing up to dance. Tamar fetched food for Annela, but she barely touched it. There didn't seem to be any point. In truth, Annela would have been happy to be quiet but the women wouldn't allow her and so she took part in the songs and greeted everyone kindly as they took turns to say goodbye.

The last to do so were Solange and Galatea, who had been talking together. They came to say that Yumi and Ezra were ready for her: it was time to light the torches and to lead the procession to the pod.

Annela was prepared. She was ready to take a long sleep, if only it would stop the headaches. She hugged Erin as much as she could but didn't neglect her young friends, Carlin, Tamar and Wildchild.

Supported by Erin and Carlin, with Wildchild and Tamar leading the way with lit torches, Annela paraded once around the camp and through an avenue of Herder women holding their torches high.

A cold wind from the sea blew the hair of the Honour-Guard into their faces and made their torches flicker. Small cold drops of rain fell on their heads and fizzled in the flames while the women maintained their cheerful song. As Annela passed, the women closed in behind her, crowding around the Pod, their torches turning the dusky evening bright orange.

The hatch of the pod was open. There was an empty seat, with leg-supports, arm-rests and a head-rest. Metal arms with hypodermic needles stood ominously either side, like the appendages of a ferocious insect poised to strike. Erin and Carlin passed Annela onto Ezra.

She looked frightened but Ezra kissed her on the forehead, held her tightly one last time and whispered in her ear, promising her it wouldn't hurt and that he would be there when she woke up. Then they'd be together forever.

She kissed him on the lips a last time and took her place on the seat, trying to smile to everyone, to conquer her fear.

As she sat down, she felt the white heat of a biting headache coming on. She shut her eyes and performed her mental exercises to fight the pain. Ezra stepped back out of the pod. Yumi tapped instructions on the control panel to simulate a continuous emergency. The lid closed and lights went on inside. Straps folded over Annela's chest, legs, arms and forehead, holding her in place. The mechanical arms lowered menacingly. They clicked into place and the hypodermics pressed into her skin. Thin transparent pipes filled with blood and ran along the arms to instruments behind the chair.

Annela briefly opened her eyes, then slowly shut them again and was at peace. Her breathing gradually slowed and apparently stopped. Red numbers on the control panel showed her heart-beat slow down. Her other vital signs also diminished.

In a few minutes, Annela was in suspended animation: a sleep so deep that she no longer breathed, no longer digested food, no longer sweated, no longer dreamed and her heart would beat only when it was stimulated to do so by the pod, every few minutes. Now her cells would stop dividing, including (so Ezra hoped) the wicked cancer cells that were eating away at the flesh of her brain, killing her painfully.

The light in the pod dulled and turned off.

The torch-bearers stood for a few minutes around the pod in silence. Their cheerful songs were no longer needed, now Annela couldn't hear them. Sombrely and quietly, they went to their tents.

At first, Ezra thought he would rather be alone that night but there weren't enough tents, so he slept in a crowded four-man tent with the Woodlander women and girls.

Carlin comforted her mother while Tamar and Wildchild snuggled up either side of him. They kissed his cheeks and promised to be there when Annela was revived. Holding him tightly, they used his chest as a pillow, as they had done not so far from this place, two-and-a-half years ago. Now Ezra was glad he was sharing their tent. There was comfort in feeling their boundless love for Annela and for him.

7 Rocket surgery

Meanwhile, across the galaxy, Danielle waited expectantly on Celetaris for her husband to return. Roger finished his publicity tour at last and sent the most-welcome message to say he was on his way home.

In the final week before his arrival, Danielle started acting peculiarly. She had her hair done again and recruited Rosa to go shopping with her to buy something special to wear to meet him. She bought an entire ensemble, took it back and bought something else, which she also took back.

It wasn't nerves alone. In fact, why was it nerves at all? She was a mature successful woman, a top scientist. She'd been married for nearly two years; yet she felt like a schoolgirl, experiencing everything ten times more strongly than normal.

Then the day arrived. Roger was on the last leg of the trip from Earth, due to land that evening at Ocean City astroport. How many times had Danielle said she'd meet him there? Roger was surprised, therefore, when he got a message saying:

"Sorry I can't meet you, Darling. Take a jet car and I'll meet you in the Arts City terminus."

Disappointed but understanding, Roger replied to her message, boarded a jet car, stowed his luggage, and set off skimming across the central ocean. He was in the Arts City terminus in an hour. Danielle wasn't there, either. He received another message, saying:

"Sorry, Darling, I'm still in a meeting. Take a taxi home. I'll meet you there."

Roger was getting a little peeved. He'd flown 170 light-years and thought of Danielle almost every minute of the three-day journey, barely able to contain his longing for her, wanting to hold and kiss her. True, her work was important but surely the only reason to be in a meeting this late was an emergency.

However unhappy he was, there was nothing to be done except take a taxi to their apartment-building on the Science Institute campus. He sent her another message, hoping the emergency wasn't too serious.

Eventually he was in the lift to Danielle's flat. It seemed to drag slowly. He received another text, saying:

"No emergency, just planning a social event. Home in an hour. Make yourself dinner and don't wait up for me if you're tired."

It was infuriating, and Roger was never furious. Danielle's actions were unaccountable. From long breathless messages saying how much she yearned for him, to these casual messages that showed more neglect than love.

The lift pinged annoyingly when he reached the top floor. The whoosh of the doors opening into the corridor irritated him. He wanted them to excite him, bringing him closer to his wife, but they brought him home to an empty and lonely apartment.

He hefted his luggage to the door and put his thumb to the print-reader. Struggling in with his suitcases, he banged them against the walls, tympanically expressing his irritation.

The flat was dark but there was an orange glow from along the corridor. It was warm inside: the heating was turned up. He stamped down the corridor but stopped when he saw what caused the orange light.

It was candles. Dozens of them on the floor of the bedroom.

The candles illuminated the room and the corridor through the open door, shedding a golden glow on the book-cases, the heavily curtained windows, the crisp white sheets on the bed and, kneeling down in front of the bed, her wrists handcuffed behind her, ankles tied together, mouth gagged, blindfolded, naked, pink and delicious was Danielle, waiting for him.

There was a click and his communicator buzzed once more. The message said:

"Darling, I couldn't decide what outfit to wear to meet you, so I wore nothing. I hope you like it. And because it's Thursday night, when you're supposed to tie me up, I thought I'd start things off myself. Do you mind?"

"Darling, I don't mind at all," Roger said, all peevishness and resentment vanished. "You're wonderful!"

He stepped into the room and kissed her on the forehead.

"I'm going for a shower," he said. "Don't go anywhere."

Always a gentleman, Roger needed to wash and shave after all that travelling, but he didn't leave her waiting long.

Clean, dry, smooth of chin and as naked as his gorgeous wife, Roger removed Danielle's gag to kiss her. All his stored-up yearning had returned, with the deflected anger from Danielle's tease adding a passionate urgency. His cock was hard in seconds, as Danielle quickly found out because he pulled away from the kiss and pushed his stiff rod into her open mouth.

She sucked diligently. Danielle loved working his cock, knowing how much he appreciated her mouth-skills. She bobbed her head and hummed in her throat, pushing her tongue along his shaft as she sucked him down, squeezing with her lips as she pulled back. It was a loving blow-job and a beautiful welcome home.

Before she got him so turned on he wouldn't be able to stop, Roger decided to return the favour. He lifted Danielle on to the bed, turned her on her front, untied her ankles and then retied them, legs spread, to the comer-posts. He pulled her up, so her arse was in the air and sank his face into her wet pussy, his tongue giving her clitoris the same teasing stimulus she gave his cock.

She moaned and gasped sweetly, her face in a pillow, her arms helpless behind her back. She bucked against his face. It was her instinctive response to the hot pleasure he gave to her vital nub, a tingling pleasure she felt along her thighs and up her belly, even in her nipples.

He pulled her hips up even higher and clasped her clitoris between tongue and top lip, pulling away firmly and sucking back down. That really got her going. She dripped nectar along her flaring pussy-lips. She needed his cock in her and said so.

Standing behind her, he gave her bottom a few friendly smacks and, while she wallowed in that lovely sensation, stuffed his cock hard into her aching slit. She sighed contentedly and then moaned in a needy grateful way as he began to thrust.

Her tension built faster than his and she gasped at an irresistible climax, holding her breath and hunching her back. Then came the shaking thighs and pulsating pussy. With an ache in her nipples and a warm flush on her chest and neck, the pleasure washed over her. He kept up the rhythm, gripping her waist tightly, and she came again a couple of minutes later when he had his first release. Groaning loudly, he spurted a heavy load from his twitching cock.

He held her while the raw nervous shuddering turned to a placid contentment. Then he untied her ankles, took off her gag but left on the handcuffs and blindfold. He turned her onto her back and lay on her, holding her warmly, kissing, sharing the afterglow of sexual fulfilment.

For their second time, he went to town on her big responsive tits. He licked, sucked and massaged them until she begged for his cock again. She came twice before he released another load.

For the third time, he made her go on top and she rode him energetically. She reached a peak just as she ran out of energy. She collapsed on him and he held her about the waist and thrust up into her to the finish. It was a noisy, sweaty finale and, in the final moments, he pushed her up and latched his mouth onto a tit, sucking ferociously. She threw her head back and cried out with joy and fulfilment.

Afterward, she lay peacefully on him, content as a kitten, chest to chest, warm in his embrace, satiated for now. She was surprised when he undid her handcuffs because she'd forgotten her wrists were secured.

"I love you, husband," she said. "Welcome home."

"I love you, wife. I'm happy to be home."

They didn't leave the bedroom for another two days, satisfying each other's aching need, fulfilling a longing that distance and delay had made irresistibly potent. When at last they emerged from the apartment, blinking in the bright afternoon sunshine, they smiled happily at everyone, brimming over with well-earned joy.

Danielle returned to work eager to supervise her students, while Roger planned a sequel to his book and video film. He gave up the idea of teaching but embarked on a large research project, learning what he could about how the outworld settlements fared after independence.

This took him on excursions to interview descendents of the founders of Celetaris, then further afield to the nearby colonies that had waxed rich on the mines and manufactures of their planets; but he never went away for more than a week.

One day, Danielle visited the Needle for a meeting and was just leaving when she met Paul Kessler in the corridor. He held the lift door open for her.

"I'm glad I bumped into you, Danielle," he said, following her into the lift. "I wanted to talk to you about the court-case."

"I'm on my way to another appointment. Can we talk later?"

"Of course. Have you ever eaten in the restaurant on the top floor here?"

"Once, with my husband."

"Then you know how good it is. Will you come to dinner with me this evening?"

"Why do you want to buy me dinner?"

"The obvious reason: you're a beautiful woman, I'm an attractive man ..."

"You've just heard me say I'm married."

"I know; but I've seen your husband on his video-film and I'm much better-looking than him."

"That's true. All right, you can buy me dinner."

"Excellent. Do you mind if my wife comes along? She'd be thrilled to meet you, especially if you can play Bridge or sing. She's quite the social organiser."

"I can do neither, I'm afraid. Why do you want to bring your wife to our assignation?"

"Another obvious reason: if I can have dinner with one beautiful woman, how much better will it be with two?"