Friday, February 28, 2014

Weekend Wake-up Call – Clans of Kalquor 6: Alien Redemption

Now that Rachel had some reassurance that sex was going to happen, she wanted Erybet to let her loose.  She pulled against his grip, making whimpering sounds.  Damn it, she wanted to touch them!

“Sletran.”  Erybet put a lot of command in his utterance of the other man’s name.  Apparently, it was all he needed to say, because the Nobek immediately took his place in holding her arms down.

She made another protesting sound and kicked her feet against the soft mattress in furious protest.

“So demanding.  But I’ll let it slide this instance in honor of our first time together.”  Erybet’s eyes were bright with contained mirth.  “Now hush, little sweet.  Your pleasure comes first, and you must allow us to take care of your needs.”

With that, he moved away from the bed to stand before the curtain-draped wall.  He swept the fabric aside.  There were no strange or crazy bondage instruments behind this particular drape.  He did something, and a drawer slid soundlessly out of the wall.  The Dramok rummaged in it for a moment, then extracted a couple of objects.  Another motion, and the drawer disappeared seamlessly into the wall once more.

Erybet stalked back to the sleeping mat, his smile evil enough to make Rachel’s guts clench in anticipation.  But when she looked at the things he carried, she wasn’t quite sure what to make of them.

One was a cylindrical metal object with what appeared to be a soft foam cover at one end.  The other looked just like a miniature Kalquorian penis … well miniature compared to what Conyod had possessed both front and back.  It was slightly less than what Marcus had been gifted with.  Was the Dramok planning to fuck her with it?

It had a flat flared base too.  Rachel guessed it was to prevent it from going in too far.  Okay, she thought she could handle a little experimentation with the fake cock, but she dearly hoped to get the real deal as well.  She just wished she knew what the soft-tipped metal cylinder was for.

Erybet knelt between her legs.  “We enjoy using various accessories when we make love.  You don’t seem adverse to a little adventure.  Or being held down.”

Rachel gave him a little shrug, since she didn’t know just how much ‘adventure’ he wanted to take her on.  She gave the cylinder a doubtful look.

“This?  It won’t cause any pain.  Quite the opposite, in fact.  Dushveb, misfot.”

At the foreign words, the cylinder made a low humming sound.  His gaze on her face, Erybet lowered the cushioned end of the cylinder to Rachel’s sex, touching her clit.  A steady vibration pulsed against her flesh.  Rachel gave a little cry as pleasure clenched her lower parts.  Her hips jerked, and the Dramok took the cylinder away.

“Enjoyable, isn’t it?  Would you like more?”

Rachel’s pussy was trembling in the aftermath of the brief but intense contact with the device.  She wasn’t sure how much stimulation from it she could handle.  Could there be such a thing as too much pleasure?  She was almost afraid to find out.

“Ray-Ray, I asked you a yes-or-no question, one you can easily answer.  Do you want more or not?”

There was challenge in his voice, and damn him, she’d never been able to turn down a challenge.  It was a matter of stupid, blind pride and she knew it.  It still didn’t change the fact that she refused to back down from anything.  Besides, he was thrilling her body, not hurting her.  She jerked a nod at him.

Erybet’s grin was almost cruel as he brought the vibrating toy to Rachel’s clit again.  Fierce elation shot through her groin and belly.  She yelled and her hips bucked off the bed.  He pressed it to her more firmly, and she writhed uncontrollably, her cries growing louder as hot, stomach clenching orgasm stampeded towards her.  Erybet kept up with her gyrations, not letting her escape the pulsating machine.  Oh gosh, she was going over, going to come harder than she’d ever come before…

The belly-twisting sensation was suddenly gone.  Erybet had withdrawn the massage toy again.  Rachel panted and stared at him.  Why had he stopped?  She’d been ready to orgasm.  Damn it, she’d been right there!  The ache in her loins was pounding, demanding release, and she squirmed desperately, thrusting her hips up at the Dramok.

“My Nobek, she acts as if she wants more.  Too bad she can’t tell us, isn’t it?”  The look on Erybet’s face was positively evil.

“Very unfortunate,” Sletran agreed.  His expression was every bit as devilish. 
Rachel squealed and thrust her hips up again.  She didn’t understand why they were teasing her.  What kind of jerks was Conyod clanned to, anyway?

“Do you accept my authority over you, little Ray-Ray?” Erybet asked.

Authority?  Like control?  Rachel stilled.  If he was discussing just this sexual encounter, she could live with that.  But what if he was looking for more?

“I guess I must prove my case a little better,” the Dramok mused.  He set the fake dick down on the bed and grasped the back of Rachel’s leg.  Raising it, he said, “Will you hold this for me, Sletran?”

“Of course.”  With the hand not pinning her wrists, the Nobek took hold and held her leg up and out.

At the same time, Erybet tucked her other knee between his arm and side, rendering that leg powerless as well.  Rachel gasped.  She was open and vulnerable to him now.  With his free hand, Erybet spread open her pussy lips, fully exposing her engorged clit.  The humming device lowered towards it.

Rachel strained to jerk free.  She couldn’t move, and the vibrator was getting closer … closer…
The light touch sent a blast of renewed ecstasy through her loins.  She tensed all over, her body battling to both escape and embrace the wicked instrument.  Able to do neither, it strained to release the mounting pressure.

Wednesday, February 26, 2014

WIP Wednesday – First Mataras: Michaela

Korkla shoved down the frustration that tried to take good sense away.  He’d barely slept all night.  Time and again, his mind had turned to dark-eyed, beautiful Michaela, remembering every expression on her cherubic face.

He told Govi, “I thought we left things on such a good note with her.  She was smiling when we said our goodnights.”

His Imdiko gave him a sad smile, a particularly poignant expression for such a beautiful face.  “This is a damaged, frightened Earther, my Dramok.  Michaela seems to feel unworthy of positive attention every bit as much as she craves it.”

Raxstad planted his hands on his hips and scowled at nothing in particular.  “This is fucked up.  How are we supposed to fix that if she won’t even see us?”

Govi sighed.  “Welcome to my world.”

Korkla grimaced.  “I have new respect for your work with the other Earther Mataras, my Imdiko.  Now what do we do?”

“Trouble, gentlemen?”

The deep and familiar voice of Crown Prince Bevau had all three men turning and bowing in an instant.  He moved down the hall as silent as any member of the Nobek breed.

If there was any man more stunning in looks than Korkla’s Imdiko clanmate Govi, it was Bevau.  The prince had been graced with perfect bone structure and flawless beauty, from his chiseled face to his gracefully muscled body.  As content as Korkla was with his own Nobek, he couldn’t help but appreciate the singular magnificence of the prince.  He was simply gorgeous.

Bevau’s hands were improbably full with flowers, apparently just picked from Israla’s gardens.  Seeing the handsome warrior carrying posies made Korkla chuckle along with Raxstad, while Govi blinked with a bemused look on his face.

Fortunately, Bevau had a better sense of humor than most Nobeks, so Korkla indulged in a little teasing of the younger man.  “Since when did you become a gardener, my prince?” he asked.

Bevau smirked at him.  “You should research your Earther customs better, Korkla.  The females love receiving flowers, apparently.  It’s traditional to give them in honor of important observances and to apologize with.”

Korkla’s smile faded.  “Apologize?”

Bevau’s grin also dropped off.  His look darkened, showing some of the fierceness of his designated breed.  “Clajak was himself with Matara Jessica McInness last night.  He didn’t bother looking into Earther customs either and offended her.  He also managed to upset Egilka, but my Imdiko is not one to be mollified with pretty plants.”

Govi winced, but Korkla kept his demeanor unresponsive.  Dramok Crown Prince Clajak, his employer, was a good man at heart.  Unfortunately, he also possessed a quick temper and an even quicker tongue that spoke before the young man thought.  Refusal to accept responsibility for much of his actions was also a great failing of Clajak’s; one Korkla spent a lot of time dealing with the fallout of.  

Korkla bit back a sigh.  He should have figured on Clajak being clumsy with the Earther Jessica McInness.  He asked Bevau, “Should I speak to him, my prince?”

Bevau gave him a knowing smile.  “Not this time, Korkla.  Let him stew and reflect on his actions for a bit.  He’ll end up kicking his own ass better than any of us could.”

Korkla chuckled.  “He might have a temper, but he also has plenty of conscience.  He’ll one day learn to think first and act later.”

Bevau laughed.  “That’s the dream that keeps me hopeful.  How was your meeting with the little intersex dancer?”

Korkla’s humor dissipated as he was reminded of Michaela.  “We thought it went well, but either she’s not answering her door or she’s made a run for it.  Govi thinks she’ll be his greatest challenge.”

Tentative release set for June.

Saturday, February 22, 2014

Phases of Fitness

In a little over a year, I’ve managed to shed over 50 pounds.  I’ve reached a level of fitness I’ve never experienced before.  It’s pretty awesome stuff.  The funny thing is, I’m only getting started. 

I hear a lot of “How did you do it?”  I think most people want to hear some miracle product was involved or that a pizza-and-chocolate diet got me in good shape.  Sorry, all.  It was nutrition and hard work.  Nothing else could put me where I am now or get me where I’m going.

For those who want the real skinny (pun intended), here’s how it happened.

A Personal History

Metabolically speaking, I had a charmed childhood and adolescence.  I burned calories without bothering.  In fact, I was underweight, not reaching 100 pounds during high school.  I ate without care and gorged on junk food.  Exercise?  Not if I could avoid it.

Had I looked closely at my parents, I would have seen the same thing.  It was when they reached their late twenties that the weight came on.  The same happened to me.  By the time I married at the age of 29, I was 135 pounds.  Entrenched in bad diet habits, I kept eating and the weight kept coming.

By the time I got pregnant 10 years later, I was up to 175 pounds.  I tipped the scale at 205 when my son was born.  I dropped the pregnancy weight plus a few pounds, dropping to 166.  Over the next 2 years, I rocketed back up to 196.  My blood pressure started to get ugly and I knew I was in trouble.

I allowed few pictures taken of me at this time.  
This is the best one that showed my weight of nearly 200 pounds.  
I am wearing my wedding band on my pinkie.

I took up walking three miles every other day.  I also got into kettlebell workouts.  I kept an eye on my caloric intake.  I was thrilled to get down to 150 pounds and looked forward to weighing even less.  The following picture was taken of me around that time.  

 Wedding band back on ring finger.  
Still not confident enough to wear a swimsuit to the beach though.

Then I had a really awful winter during which I fought back-to-back rounds of strep throat, ear infections, and bronchitis.  I came close to pneumonia.  I spent almost two months flat on my back.  Exercise fell by the wayside.  Once I got better, I did not go back to it.  In no time I was eating crap again and not working it off.  I went up to 185 pounds and became a size 12.

The First Phase:  Couch to 5K

Just before ringing in 2013, my hubby said, “I need to take weight off.  I’m going to try this running program called Couch to 5K.  You in?”

Running?  Me?  I hadn’t run since the one-mile requirement in middle school.  Just chasing my son a few feet left me huffing and puffing.  Was he kidding?

Yet I knew from experience that when one spouse is trying to lose weight, the actions of the other spouse can make all the difference.  I wanted to be supportive, but I had the distinct feeling I wasn’t going to last long at this running thing.  Still, I said I’d try.  We set off to achieve our goal of completing a 5K in 9 weeks.

Good heavens.  I thought I’d fall over and die that first day.  The program starts with running 1 minute and then walking 90 seconds and alternating until 30 minutes are up.  It didn’t sound so bad until I was actually doing it.  I was in hell.  At the end of that first session I told Master St. J, “Let’s never do this again.”

But we did.  There was much grouching and grumbling, especially from me.  Then one of my knees blew out with only two weeks left until the goal of running 30 minutes straight was achieved.  Hubs kept running.  I settled for walking when I was able.  Two months later, I started running again.  This time I got within one week of running 30 minutes when the knee went again.  Another month of recuperating went by.

By that time I loved running.  Yes, as hard as it is to believe I am writing this, I LOVED running.  I couldn’t wait for that bad joint to get to the point where I could do it again.  When I could, I cut my running from three times to twice a week, hoping to avoid another blowout.  It worked.  Late October, I ran five kilometers.  I continue to run twice a week, and I’m now working on cutting my time down.

The Second Phase:  Fitbit

Around April of last year after seeing good results from our 5K project, Hubs was pretty gung-ho about taking off weight.  He researched and found the site.  It measures progress for those who join, aided by gadgets that count steps, calories burned, and miles covered.  We both opted for the Zip device to measure our daily numbers.  The site also issued challenges to walk 10,000 steps/5 miles a day.  It tracked what we ate.  It told us when we were over our calorie budgets for our weight-loss goals.

On days I didn’t run, I made sure I walked those 5 miles.  Weight was peeling off me now at a safe, steady pace.  Fitbit also prompted us to count calories.  Master St. J was definitely not in the mood to fudge his numbers.  (Fudge!  Oh no, nevermind.)  He bought a food scale and measured everything to the gram.  He took over all the cooking because he knows what a lazy ballparking creature I tend to be.  How’s that for a perk?

The Third Phase:  Burn the Fat, Feed the Muscle

By the end of the year, Hubs had met his weight-loss goal.  I shrunk down to less than 5 pounds away from mine.  Things were looking rosy, but I began to worry.  What came next?  I’d conquered the 5K, trimmed down to a size 6, and I was soon to hit that magic number of 130 on the scales.  I know me ... once I made it to my goal, there was the danger of saying “I’m done!  Pass the wings.”  Then I’d be back where I’d started, or worse.

I started looking around for motivation.  I knew I needed to get into some strength training to be really fit.  I don’t want to look like Ah-nold the Governator by any means, but I did want to tone up.  At the tender age of 46, I had those old-lady droopy arms and a lower ab pooch from having a 9 lb, 6.6 oz child nearly 8 years ago.  I still have work to do.

Searching around led me to the book Burn the Fat, Feed the Muscle by Tom Venuto, a trainer and bodybuilding pro.  I found a lot more than just tips on bicep curls.  This was a whole fitness program that hits the four main areas of getting fit:  motivation, nutrition, cardio, and strength training.  It’s become my bible for fitness.

I’m already seeing results, though I’ve got a way to go before I hit my new goals.  That underarm flab is disappearing, as is my baby belly.  My abs, arms, and legs are actually showing definition after about a month of being on this program.  I’m wearing size 4-6, depending on the designer.  My waist is down to 29.5 inches and I’m at 24% body fat, which isn’t that bad. 

I’ve also decided train for a competitive 5K.  I’m two weeks into it and so far, so good.  I’m excited to see what happens in the next few months.

Swimsuit ready!  Now if the weather would just cooperate...

The Take Away

I’m glad Master St. J pushed me into getting started with that Couch to 5K, though I thought it was the most horrendous thing in the world for the first few weeks.  Doing just that one thing created a domino effect:  gains in that area led to trying another level of fitness, then another, and so on ... and now I feel like I qualify as a fitness junkie.  Had I done everything all at once, I think I might have given up a couple of months into training.  But adding one thing at a time did the trick.  I didn’t get overwhelmed and found myself actually motivated to push to the next level.  I’m even planning to ask for a gym membership for my birthday.  Who, me?  Hell yeah!

Friday, February 21, 2014

Weekend Wake-up Call – Netherworld III: Once Bitten Twice Dead

I sighed, my shoulders sagging with the weight of too many worries.  Dan moved close to take me in his arms, and I snuggled my face into the nook of his neck and shoulder.  His hands rubbed up and down my back for a bit.  Then they dipped lower until he was cupping my buttocks.  Then I felt something growing between us, right at crotch level.  Well, for heaven’s sake.

I pulled my head back, giving him my most ‘you’ve-got-to-be-kidding’ look despite the lovely warming my lower parts basked in.  Usually it’s me looking to get some at the drop of a hat.  “Who’s got the crazy libido now, Mr. Twice a Night?”

He treated me to a long, slow kiss.  Boy, there wasn’t a bit of my mouth his tongue didn’t glide over, and every hair on my body rose in reaction.  Dan knew what he was doing to me too, from the crooked grin he gave me when he finally took his lips from mine.  

“Well, after Tristan’s hero moment, I’m feeling a little behind in the competition.  Just campaigning for your vote.”

That took me down a couple of notches.  I didn’t go arctic on my man Dan, but he felt the chill anyway and hurried to say, “Don’t get all panicked, baby girl.  I don’t want to discuss being your one-and-only.  I don’t want to talk at all right now.”

He kissed me again to prove his point.  Okay, as long as I didn’t have to deal with a report on ‘Why You Should Choose Me Over Him’, I could handle this.  

Dan’s clothes suddenly disappeared, and I was touching 100 percent choice Grade-A beef.  Yeah, I could definitely handle this.  My clothes went bye-bye as well, and I twined all over him like a kudzu vine on a pine tree.  That man was smothered and covered in an instant.

He somehow got us to the leather sofa in the periodicals section, and the next thing you know we’re wrestling like it was a pay-per-view match.  He tried to hold me down, but I was not feeling very subbie for a change.  Dan was going to have to work for it this time.  

I thought baby oil and was slippery in an instant.  He yelled in surprise as I slid out from under him and clean off the leather while I was at it.  I landed on the hardwood floor with a thump, but I’d figured on that.  Before Dan knew what was happening, I jumped on his back and had him in a full nelson.  I’d made sure to wish away the baby oil first so he couldn’t slide out.  

We’re close in height, and my arms and legs are nearly as long as his.  The biggest difference between us is he’s got bulging working man’s muscles, and I have sleek health-club-just-for-show muscles.  We were pretty evenly matched nonetheless, because Dan was roaring with laughter at my unexpected ruse.  He couldn’t mount a defense, much less me, while he was bellowing hilarity.  I wrapped my legs around his hips and thought I had him tied up pretty good. 

“Who’s the Dominant now?” I asked, cinching my fingers together tight behind his neck.

“Brandilynn … you are … a mess, girl,” he wheezed between guffaws.

“I’ve got the upper hand, big boy.  If Tristan was here, I’d make you put on a pretty pink tutu and dance for him.”

“Oh you would, would you?”  He was still laughing, but there was a little growl in Dan’s words too.

“With matching bows in your hair.  And you’d have to call him Sir.”

With a beastly roar Dan reared up beneath me, easily breaking free of my grip on his arms and neck.  Without warning I was on my back with him on top.  He put me in a headlock.

“Who’s the Sir?” he asked as I squealed.  My face was mashed in his armpit.  Thank goodness ghosts don’t have B.O.

I responded by flinging my legs upward and wrapping them around his head.  I’m not always graceful, but I sure am flexible.  Dan yelped with surprise.

Then the big jerk cheated.  He gave up the headlock to tickle my ribs.  I shrieked with laughter and fought to get away.  He let me roll to the floor and crawl a couple of feet before snagging an ankle and hauling me back to tickle some more.  

We flailed like a couple of fools all over the floor.  You’d have thought we were ten-year-olds the way we carried on, laughing and yelling and roughhousing.  But we were naked and not children, so eventually you know what had to happen.  The tickling became fondling.  The laughter turned to moans.  The struggling changed to twining tight to each other.

For a little while it was Dan on top, his big hands pinning my wrists over my head while his hips stroked steadily, burying his cock in me over and over.  My legs wrapped around his buttocks, pulling hard to push him as far into me as he could go.

Then it was me on top, my hands braced on his lightly haired chest.  I gazed into his milk chocolate eyes as I rode slow and sensuously, taking him as if was my right.  His calloused hands gripped my breasts, warming them.  After several delicious minutes of this, I arched back.  I held my weight on my feet and hands, supporting myself on his rock hard thighs as I moved really slow.  We watched his flesh slide in and out of mine until we were both groaning with need.

Dan maneuvered us so that I was flat on my back again with him kneeling between my legs.  He pushed my thighs up and out, opening me wide.  He worked hard and fast then, his cock a battering ram to make my insides twist themselves into knots until something within me frayed.  I came screaming, my fingernails dragging red stripes down his arms.  He bellowed in response.