The Princess Of Mahoon: Chapter 1bytheowlandtherose©
The Princess of Mahoon is a series of pulp science fiction stories. It is fair to tell you that not all of the scenes are erotic in nature in the event that you are looking for something hardcore. The intention is to mimic the science fiction writing of Asimov, Burroughs, and Bradbury, with a little lust thrown in. Hope you enjoy.
Salut, Queen Mother
I sing to you the song of history
To recall what was
And what has become of me.
Now returning from my journey
Back to my home
Our glorious White Realm
I gather my thoughts to greet you as Sister
And account for myself before the Tribe.
Aklia's restless eyes tracked the carpet of green moss stretching before her as she sprinted through the trees. She had never captured an alien before and her heart raced at the thought of subduing this specimen. In the early morning shadows, she instinctively followed the vegetation uprooted by the fleeing boots of her prey.
A trio of alien Sadeers searching for sleeping tribes had crossed her path tonight during her watch on patrol. The black-garbed warriors stumbled into the clearing where she lay masturbating, her usual pastime during the long dull hours of watch. Lying upon her back, she spied them immediately through her spread knees and instantly froze, fingers locked in place between her legs. Several seconds went by before she began to reach for her nearby rifle and was spotted by the largest of the brutes.
As surprised as she, the aliens were not fast enough and found themselves in a firefight with an enraged and embarrassed tracker. Quicker to control her weapon, Aklia fired first which sent the aliens fleeing. She was forced to kill two of them quickly in their defended retreat. The leader had escaped and thus far eluded her. Since the aliens rarely ventured out during daylight, the orange fingers of dawn creeping overhead meant that he was probably near the safety of a flyer unless she could overtake him.
Aklia ran steadily along the Sadeer's trail. She was naked as usual except for the standard warrior belt worn by a tracker on the hunt. Her meager possessions included blades of varying lengths and an alien rifle presented to her last year when she came of age. Dark locks fluttered around her handsome face as she gave chase. She ran on the long legs of a scout, but was already bustier than some of the nursemaids. Even among princess-scouts she was considered an exquisite beauty, but many found her hard and aloof. Whatever the reason, tribal rumor had tapped her as the successor to her mother, Queen Roze, and this talk had not escaped Aklia.
Looking up at the brightening sky, she pushed the pace, no longer concerned about being discovered. Her guarding hand left the blade on her hip as it bounced against her muscular thigh. She grasped the deadly long rifle with both hands to make better time through the forest. A swath of purple on a tree ahead proved that her first shot had hit its mark. The huge beast was bleeding, but oh, how she hoped not too much.
She broke across a ridge and a shot splintered the bark above her head. "Conk me," she thought, "that was too close." Dipping her head only slightly she lept down the ravine, zigzagging between the trees toward the muffled sound of the shot. It was rare to find a Sadeer this fast, or this good with a rifle on the run. Aklia almost admired him.
Jumping a dry creekbed, the tracker heard saplings snapping just ahead of her. As she sprinted up the other side, she again saw his silhouette on the ridge above her. She had her trophy now, he would not get away this time. As she crested the wooded knob, she saw him slow and aim an angry glare at her over his shoulder.
His size was even more impressive than she had guessed, standing just over eight feet. The shiny black suit he wore covered all but his heavy boots and visored helmet. She smiled to herself. The tribe would talk of this catch for years.
She halted her sprint and pointed at his black rifle with her own. He turned and faced her, revealing the shoulder bloodied by her marksmanship not ten minutes before. Already, the indigo blood flowed down his limp arm. He attempted to hoist the nearly five foot gun with his other hand, but was unable to control it now sufficiently to threaten her. Her smile broke into a laugh as she threw her own weapon down and walked toward him.
A strange roar came from his mouth as he tossed his own gun and reached across his torso for a blade. On his side was a double-edged short sword, exactly like the one she wore belted onto her hip. Aklia reached him before he could free the hilt. In a leap, she struck his chin with an uppercut, his body twitched and then fell straight backward, as the force of her jump sent her crashing on top of his lifeless body.
Salut, My Mother Your wisdom boundless Just as you trained me I have done.
As the Sadeer lay unconscious, Aklia went to work securing him. From her narrow waistbelt she unwrapped a woven cord and threw a knot over one of his muscular wrists. She raised both of his hands behind his helmet and bound them tightly together. Then she worked the rest of the cord underneath him until she pulled it snugly between his legs. Looping the rope back up and around his waist, she strained to get all the slack out before securing it underneath his groin.
Standing above her Sadeer, Aklia chanted the Call to Sisters. She raised her palms to Mother Sun and asked forgiveness for what she must do. Though she had no love for the alien warrior at her feet, she knew that his capture would result in his death as surely as if she had slipped her sword into his breast. No alien lasted more than two months in captivity among the tribe. Since there were no more human men among the tribes, the Sadeer's only purpose for those two months would be to supply seed for the next generation of female warriors.
Arms outstretched, she recited the lengthy fertility songs of her tribe. Her mind danced between the ceremonial lyrics to visions of her triumphant return to the Queen's cavern. Scores of warriors would line the Great Walk to see her leading this magnificent conk to the Queen mother. The Lesbeans, stout footsoldiers clad in ram leather, would beat their chests in appreciation. Runners would be sent to call all Sisters, the rank given to experienced scouts who had captured Sadeers in previous years. The Sisters would gather after three days so that the Matings could commence.
Aklia saw the Great Hall where the Sadeer would be bound and offered to the goddesses. First, the Queen would partake of him and this often lasted several days. Next in line would be the novice Aklia, who would be instructed formally by the Queen and her two hand-picked maidens.
Despite having dreamed of only this moment for all of her memory, the methodical instruction would be agonizingly slow beginning with shaving and ritual preparation of her cunch. She would then be bathed in lamb's milk and watched by the sisters in masturbation for three orgasms. For another day she would tease the Sadeer into erections in the sixty ways of the tribe. Only after satisfying all of her instructors that she could raise and maintain the alien's conk would she get to mount him. Finally, after succeeding in extracting his seed inside her cunch, she could bring forth a young warrior. Once her pregnancy ended, she would leave the infant in the care of the Queen's nursemaids who would raise the child as Aklia returned to the hunt.
As the morning sun appeared, she stood smiling at the thought of her first Mating. Looking down at the roped Sadeer, she imagined the feel of his massive conk against her skin and his swelling in her hand. Her thighs rubbed tightly together until she ended her recitation and could reach down to soothe her rising lust. Head thrown back and legs now spreading apart, she slid into her soaked lips and sought the familiar feel of her clittle. Moaning loudly, she nearly wilted as the waves of pleasure weakened her weary legs while she fingered herself earnestly.
Just then a familiar hum rose over the wooded hill to her back. Without turning, she dove for her weapons and hooked one hand into the rope secured around the alien's waist. With a lunge, she began to drag his limp body down the far side of the hill into the creekbed beyond. Straining and cursing, she managed to pull him behind a large fallen trunk and disappear behind him before the engines rose overhead.
"Conk, Conk, Conk!!!!" she exclaimed under her breath. Peaking up through the trees, Aklia saw the black alien vessel float towards her. In the haste to begin her rituals, she had forgotten to hide from the Sadeer's transport and nearly captured. She had also forgotten to break the creature's communication horn, but she dared not move towards his helmet while the ship was above her.
After several agonizing minutes, the shadowy crescent moved off in the direction of the Sadeerian complex. When its engines were no longer heard in the valley, Aklia stood and looped the free end of the bondage rope around her waist to begin the long journey home. She would not stop, she vowed, until she could finally take what now rightfully belonged to her.
Salut, Oh Goddess I leave my child-years to memory For the cause And for the tribe I become woman.
Aklia struggled under the heat of the sun, dragging the lifeless body of her captive across the forest floor. For the most part, she kept to the thickly covered pines to hide from watching eyes in the sky as well as to provide a smoother surface on which to pull the dead weight of the massive Sadeer. Since he was still unresponsive, she stopped several times to check him for respirations and assure herself that he was still alive.
Just after midday, she led him down a ravine to a small mountain spring. Untying the rope from her waist she left the Sadeer under an overhanging rock formation. Knowing that she was nearly halfway to the first tribal outpost, she crept to the bubbling water to drink and prepare for the long journey that still lay ahead of her. As she bent down upon the wet rocks to drink, she saw a fruit tree from which to pick her meal. Cupping her hands into the cold stream and pulling them to her lips, she looked back at the bound Sadeer and realized that she was indeed hungry. But no wild fruit would satisfy her hunger pains on this day.
Creeping back to him, she contemplated her situation. She had hastened to put distance between herself and the searching aliens, neglecting to investigate the seriousness of the Sadeer's bullet wound. If he were dying, then he may not survive the trip back to the tribe, yet if she camped for the night, he still may not live and the Sadeers would certainly come back in force to look for him. Either way, she would not have a prize to bring home or a chance at his seed.
As the alien lay before her, she decided to defrock him and see if she could rouse him. Pulling out her small knife blade, she began ripping the black alien suit, peeling the synthetic protection first off of his bloody arm. She examined his wound and decided that it was definitely not mortal, cleaned it with some nearby moss she soaked in the spring, and dressed it with the material she had carved off of his limb. He would be able to walk, but probably far too slowly to get back to the mountains before dusk. She would have to get him to an outpost and potentially hide him there until he could be turned over to the queen.
His face was concealed in a dark visor fronting a massive black helmet. Upon the crown of the helmet was his metal horn. She knelt beside the horn and, withdrawing her short sword, cleaved it with a single blow just as she should have done immediately upon capturing the beast. She examined the fractured rod and puzzled over it. According to legend, it gave power to the Sadeer, and without it he could no longer communicate to the flyers.
Removing his helmet, she marveled at the smooth white skin of his face and his tiny triangular ears. The eyes were typically close set, and a hairless scalp covered his soft skull. She had only felt an alien's skull after death, and she grasped each temple between her palms and bent inwards slightly to test the pliable vault. The monster stirred and squeezed his colorless lids but did not wake up. She replaced his visor and headgear so that he would not be blinded by the bright sun and turned to strip the rest of his body.
Straddling his neck between her legs, she sliced through his clothing. She yearned to see her prize conk but heightened her anticipation by taking the clothing off of his upper body first, slowly working her way down the abdomen. His powerfully built body lay motionless under her and she marveled at how such bulk could be bested by a human. As she peeled away the tight black clothing, she ran her fingers over the strange skin. He was softer than she had imagined and much bigger than any Sadeer she had ever seen.
Squatting above him she noted that his chest was broad and only rose once or twice a minute in respiration. His pectorals were rounded with muscle but completely without nipples. Aklia traced the area where his nipples would have been with one hand while her other went subconsciously to her own. Overwhelming lust threatened to drunken her before her prize was safely delivered as she kneaded first one breast, then the other. Her pink nipple hardened under her playful fingers as she contemplated her risk of taking him right here in the forest.
She felt her cunch moistening as it rested against his skin. Why shouldn't she try to mount him now, she thought? Once they were escorted before Queen Roze, tradition dictated that the tracker who captured him would only become a Sister after the tedious ceremonies. Her mother would teach her how to mount him in truth only after hours of preparation and instruction. What usefulness in that, she pouted, when her entire life had been spent planning and dreaming of only this?
With a deep breath, she forced her hand away from her bosom and slid down his torso toward his legs. With trembling hands, she carefully freed his conk from beneath the rope and black clothing. Staring longingly at her hard-fought prize, she was barely aware of disrobing his hips and thick legs. Her lusting eyes gobbled up the sight of his member as she pulled herself up to rest upon his now naked thighs.
What a specimen, indeed! A forearm-sized conk lay sprawled above the rope on his abdomen. The secondary conk hung beneath it, only about half the diameter and a quarter the length. She knew that the seed came from the big one, the one she must raise in order to satisfy her desires. According to gossip, the other one expelled his piss. She would dearly love to see that as well, but her immediate concerns were with the big conk.
Running her hand along the inside of his thigh she passed over the two fallen appendages lightly and stroked down the other leg. Her heart raced as she looked for signs of wakening, but there were none.
"This is silly," she thought shaking her head at her timidity. "What are you waiting for? Do it and get going."
With a quick grasp, she closed her hand around his smaller rod and felt it's weight in her hand. She could feel his heartbeat beneath her fingers as she squeezed the flesh. The smaller conk was a perfectly smooth cylindrical shape with just a slight tapering toward the tip. Her tight fist nearly covered the entire length, but she felt it grow slightly as she held it, and letting go she watched it fall slowly toward her pulsing and erect.
"Well, that was easy." Aklia tapped it twice with her finger and watched it bounce back to attention, pointing straight up at her bare chest. Smiling, she then pushed down with the heel of her palm, pressing it between the alien's enormous thighs. Releasing her hand with a playful gesture, she squealed in delight as it sprang back up at her and waggled in place.
The Sadeer took a deep breath and twitched, freezing Aklia in an instant. For a moment, she waited for another sign, but there was no more movement.
"Get on with it; focus, girl. You have weeks to play with him in safety. Conk him and get the hell home."
Reaching out with both hands, she let her fingers slide to the base of the larger conk. Running her hands along the sides of it, she leaned over to spit onto the underbelly of it and spread the moisture along the shaft with her fingers. Then grabbing the base like the hilt of a sword, she held the serpentine body up close to her face to examine it.
With its triangular and menacing head, the conk looked like the rattley snakes she hunted in the foothills as a child. The sheer weight of it made it squirm and slither in her grasp, giving it the appearance of a fighting serpent withdrawing from her grip. Determined to raise it, she decided to try the rope-throw way she had practiced in her dreams a thousand times.
She slid her top hand down to the other so that both held the conk near the base. This cause the pillar of flesh to crash back down across his abdomen. Dropping more saliva on it, she lightened her grip slightly, then thrust her hand out towards and beyond the tip. Bringing it back to the base, she repeated the throwing motion again and again. With each milking stroke, her technique became more graceful and confident. Soon, she was running the length of him with only her thumb and index finger encircling his flesh to quicken her movements.
Still holding the root of the conk tightly, she eventually noted that his girth was pressing her hand apart. Soon, she could barely hold her fingers together and squeezed with all her might to contain the blood within his organ. With each sensual pump of her arm, the alien's organ rose slightly farther from his abdomen into the air.
Eventually, Aklia held the rigid conk aloft. The fleshy head stood fully a foot and a half above him and the diameter at the base made it difficult to encircle completely with her hand. She sat admiring her handiwork for only a moment, as she suddenly realized that the Sadeer had taken two breaths in a row. His lips were moving, but she could not hear any sounds coming from him. Arms still pulled back behind his head in bondage, he was no threat to her now. With a defiant look at his visor, she stood up and moved her body over his erections.
Aklia hovered in the air, knees bent, both hands on the Sadeer's larger erect shaft just below the head. As she guided him up to her wet cunch lips, her heart raced in anticipation. Her juices were already smeared over his thighs from squatting upon him and now began to saturate the knob she pressed against herself with her hands.
Rubbing herself slowly with the nearly fist-sized tip of his conk, she began to rock her pelvis to slide him farther between her wet lips. Suddenly, his flesh slid directly over her clittle for the first time causing a sharp inhalation from her lips as she shuddered with pleasure. This was even better than she imagined, and suddenly she was in no mood to get it over with any time soon.
Back and forth she pressed him against her inner folds. She learned that if she varied the pressure and occasionally circled her clittle with his knob, it felt as good as her fingers, maybe better. Breasts bouncing as her entire body moved in rhythm, she watched his jaw clench and tremble. Realizing that she was using him for her own pleasure and that he was forced to submit to her will, she could not contain her orgasm any longer. She rubbed his conk against her hard button in such a frenzy that she shook his entire body. Spasms of ecstasy shot through her as she struggled to stay on her feet, head swimming in weakness, hands quivering in pleasure. For several minutes, myotonic contractions took control of her as she came in crashing waves, her mind screaming in an unintelligible language and her lips speaking to the heavens.