Showing posts with label Erotic Futuristic. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Erotic Futuristic. Show all posts

Wednesday, February 6, 2013

PRIVATE SKIRMISH by Anne Kane

PRIVATE SKIRMISH by Anne Kane

Mercenaries Book One

When her little sister disappears, Dee vows to find her. She follows a lead to Loden Province but is picked up by Government troops and convicted of crossing provincial borders without a permit. The punishment? She is sent to be sold at auction.

As the auctioneer calls for bids, she hears a voice from her past. Kaeden! The lover she ran out on in order to raise her little sister. He's found her again, and he has no intention of letting her escape a second time. He and his band of mercenaries will do whatever it takes to reunite the sisters and keep them safe.

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Mercenaries: Private Skirmish
Anne Kane
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2012 Anne Kane

This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

Dee glared at the guard as he nudged her back into place with the barrel of his plasma rifle. One lousy moment of inattention and here she was, waiting her turn on the auction block.

"Sold!" The auctioneer's voice rang loud as his gavel hit the podium and the dusky beauty from Uranus Prime was led to the holding cells on the far side of the room, a sultry smile curving her full lips.

"You're up, blondie. Smile pretty and you might fetch a decent owner." The young wrangler smirked as he grabbed the lead attached to the heavy collar around her neck. Dee followed quietly as he led her to the auction block, not because she wanted to be sold off like an animal but because she knew this wasn't the time to make a run for her freedom.

She glanced around. Too many guards. Too much security. The holding area was crawling with people of every description and not one would lift a hand to help her. She had been looking for her sister in one of the outer provinces when they arrested her. The penalty for leaving her home province without permission was indentured service for the remainder of her natural life.

When the Military Alliance ousted the democratic government of Earth, things had changed drastically for the inhabitants. The new rulers had lots of rules and little tolerance for those who didn't follow them. They found a creative way to get rid of citizens who didn't obey their every whim, without having to pay for expensive prisons. Sell them, and pocket the profit. Military efficiency at its finest.

Dee had every intention of escaping, but now was not the time. Maybe the wrangler had a point. A lax owner would make her eventual escape so much easier. If she played her cards right, she could be on her way by nightfall. She mustered up her sexiest smile and looked out over the room full of prospective buyers.

"What am I bid for this healthy young specimen?" The auctioneer beamed at her like a fond uncle. "Strayed into the wrong province and arrested without any damage to the merchandise. Turn around, sweetie, and let the crowd see what they're bidding on."

Dee gritted her teeth, keeping her eyes downcast to hide her initial reaction. Merchandise, indeed! She turned in a slow circle, ignoring the catcalls of a rowdy bunch of miners in the front row. They were just here for the show, they wouldn't have the credits to actually bid.

"Let's start at one thousand." The auctioneer launched into his well-practiced spiel, and Dee watched as the bidding became a contest between a jovial fellow with two dark beauties sitting quietly at his feet, and a rather nasty-looking man who smacked a riding crop against his boots every time someone bid against him. Lordy, if he won she'd have to make a break for it before he carted her off to whatever rock he'd crawled out from under.

"Come on, people. Look at her. New to the block. I'd bet my finest leather duster that she's never been used by more than one male at a time. Just think what fun you could have training her to your own tastes. Do I hear six thousand?"

"Six thousand, five hundred." The Nasty Guy's smile was as cold as an arctic outflow.

The Jovial Fellow hesitated a moment, and Dee's heart sank. She eyed up the exits, wondering which one was the quickest route to outside and freedom. There was no way she was going to let Nasty Guy take her anywhere.

"Ten thousand."

Dee's head jerked up at the sound of that familiar voice, her heart rate soaring. Kaeden! Where was he? And what the hell was he doing at a slave auction? He hated the government-run auctions with a passion that bordered on obsession. The only time he'd ever attended one was to start a riot and watch the slaves bolt for freedom.

Nasty Guy stood, his crop whistling though the air in agitation, and for a moment Dee thought he was going to bid higher. Her breath caught in her throat. He glared at the back of the room before spinning on his heel and stalking out of the hall.

Dee let out a relieved breath, her eyes scanning the crowd until she found him. Kaeden. The only man who'd ever managed to break through the wall of ice she kept around her heart. He stared straight at her, the hard glint in his eye telling her he hadn't forgiven her for walking out on him.

"Ten thousand! Now that's more like it. Anyone want to go ten one hundred?" The auctioneer paused, his gavel held in midair and a happy grin on his face. His cut of the sale price would keep him in black market ale for the next few moon cycles. "No? Going once? Going twice. Sold, to the gentleman in row nine!" The gavel hit the podium with a decisive thump, and Dee gave a sigh of relief. Kaeden might be pissed at her, but at least she didn't have to worry about being a slave.

He and his band of mercenaries went out of their way to disrupt the slave trade. He'd read her the riot act first, but he'd sign her freedom papers and she could be on her way. Next time, she'd check for government forces before she waltzed into a bar on the wrong side of a provincial border. If she hadn't been so intent on finding Wren, she might have noticed the captain's bars on the man's shoulder and avoided this whole unfortunate incident.

The wrangler led her off the block and over to the holding pens. Before he managed to shove her into one of the iron holding cells, Kaeden materialized at her side, his hand held out for the lead. "No need for that. I'll take her from here."

Dee watched the wrangler open his mouth to protest. There were forms to fill out, money to change hands and receipts to be issued. It didn't surprise her that after one look at the mercenary's hard face, the wrangler closed his mouth and handed over the lead without protest.

"You can collect the paperwork over there." He pointed to the harried-looking secretary and made a quick escape. Dee didn't blame him.

She looked into the chilly eyes of her former lover. He had aged in the time she'd been gone. The harsh angles of his face were more pronounced. She still found him absolutely irresistible. "You here specifically for me, or just slumming?"

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Sunday, October 28, 2012

I WANT THAT ONE by Paige Roberts

I WANT THAT ONE by Paige Roberts

Lady Jane wants Will, for her slave, and she'll pay a high price to get him. Will dreams of a life under Jane's spike heels, but in the future city-state of New York, it's illegal to enslave a free man. Jane, once a notorious hacker, now a network security consultant, isn't used to letting a little thing like the law keep her from getting what she wants.

When a bound and naked Will is delivered to her kitchen door, she takes great pleasure in using leather cat and cuffs and cruel penetrating sex games to tame him. But Will must give up everything to prove his loyalty to her before he can take his rightful place forever kneeling at her perfect feet.

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An Excerpt from: I Want That One

Copyright © 2007/2012 Paige Roberts
All rights reserved, Freya's Bower.



By reading this excerpt, you are stating that you are at least 18 years of age. If you are younger than 18 years old, you must exit this site at once.


“I want that one,” Lady Jane said.

Armande was the owner of the most exclusive full service salon in the city-state of New York. In the reconstruction after the great collapse, the new noble class demanded services befitting their status. Sharp entrepreneurs like Armande created salons to fill those demands. A woman could get everything from a pleasure slave to a manicure to a new hat in Armande’s salon, if she was willing to pay top dollar for all three.

“But, my dear Lady Jane,” Armande said, “Will is not merchandise. He is my employee.”

“I know Will’s not a slave, but I want him. Every time I come in, his pretty eyes watch me. And when he fits me for a new pair of shoes, his impertinent hands touch my feet much more than is proper.” The lady watched the tall, slender, dark-haired man with a neatly trimmed goatee as he served drinks to a small group of ladies. His wry comments made them laugh and flutter, and he acknowledged their appreciation with a shy smile.

“Please forgive any small improprieties on his part. I’ll have him fired if you wish, but making him a slave…” The pretentious man with a French accent from Brooklyn shook his head. “Even if he were for sale, he’s not pleasure slave material. Wouldn’t you rather have that one? He is a handsome specimen, non?” Armande gestured to a man chained to a pedestal as living art, dressed only in a collar and a dazzling smile.

“Far too full of himself. Let some woman who wants to have something decorative on her arm for social functions buy him and spoil him rotten. I want your clerk and I will pay handsomely for him.”

“It is illegal to make a free citizen a slave, milady.” Armande grinned slyly. “A respectable slave dealer like myself would…”

Lady Jane wrote a figure down. It was twice the asking price of the slave with the bright smile.
Armande’s greedy eyes widened. “Of course, I would certainly be willing to go that extra mile for a client of your caliber.”

Lady Jane smiled. “I want him delivered tonight.” She turned her back on Armande, dismissing him.

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Saturday, August 11, 2012

LETHAL BEAUTY by Sara Brookes

LETHAL BEAUTY by Sara Brookes

As a covert operative in Elatia’s elite military, Sway Waybourne is used to fending for herself. But a powerful uprising means she’s now responsible for guarding the leader of a neighboring planet.

Within seconds of meeting Dason Cavaletti, sparks fly and Sway realizes she’s gotten more than she bargained for.

Dason is curious about the arousal taking over his mind, body, and soul. When he can no longer stand the overwhelming desire, he confronts Sway. But the disturbing news she delivers isn’t at all what he expected.
Mating with the gorgeous woman could kill him….

WARNING: Sarcasm galore from a fiery heroine who can take care of herself thank-you-very-much. She won’t take anyone’s guff—even from the leader of the free universe no matter how handsome he is. A unique genetic quirk leads to inventive foreplay, one blazing hot hands-on session in the bathtub and a gender bending encounter that signals this ain’t your father’s Star Trek.
No redshirts were harmed while writing this novel.

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~Excerpt~

“This is…quite the situation.”

She blew out a breath as she slumped onto the far side of the mattress. “You can say that again.”

Sensing her frustration—which matched his own—he reached over and clamped his hand around her ankle. She didn’t fight as he dragged her across the bed and into his arms. “It’s not as if it’s the end of the world.”

“No. It’s just…I’m used to being able to handle any situation.”

“And you don’t know how to handle this.”

“Not really.”

“I’m sure we can come up with ideas. In fact, I’m thinking of one right now.”

“You’re going to be the death of me.”

“Way I understand, it’s the other way around.” Her laughter rang out in the room, shattering the tension. He pulled her closer, content and sated for the moment. “You’re a remarkable woman. Strong, determined, not to mention sexy as sin.”

She squirmed against him and he took it as a signal she wasn’t used to hearing such things said about her. Her reaction made him decide to shower her with attention while they were trapped together.

He was both amused and terrified by her reactions. Her extraordinary skill set was evident and he found her tenacity admirable. She possessed a vulnerability, though she clearly did her best to hide that aspect of her personality. By his guess, she thought it would show a weakness if she let others know about any flaw in her perfection. A good covert operative couldn't have any visible flaws. Otherwise, they weren’t very good at their job.

By the looks of things so far, she was very, very good at her job.

And for reasons he didn’t completely understand, he had begun to fall in love with her.


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Friday, June 22, 2012

ANTARES by Alex J. Alex

ANTARES by Alex J. Alex

In the arena where nude combatants fight like old west gunslingers, usually to the death—ala The Quick And The Dead—gladiator training usually begins at eighteen and few live to see their next birthday. Any who survive are usually retired within ten years.

At forty, Antares and Maximus are the greatest champions in history. Maximus has been consulting a soothsayer for years. Antares thinks such is silly, but he convinces her to see the old Tarot reader. When the five of Pentacles appears, the reader predicts hard times, suffering, poor health and rejection and recommends that Antares retire.

Antares ignores the advice and her next fight is the most brutal event in arena history. Badly wounded, she beheads her opponent, but suffers a terrible disfigurement and disability that forces her to retire. Antares is shunned, becomes addicted to several vices and ends up a vagrant.

Contacted by a writer/journalist who senses a great story, Antares is rescued and rehabilitated by a shady, unlicensed, but brilliant doctor. Visiting the soothsayer once again, she is urged to seek out Maximus.

Maximus’s life has not turned out well either. He was supposed to meet a wonderful woman, marry, have children, etc., but he never met her—she’s the woman Antares killed in the arena. The question is, what will Antares find?

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Excerpt:

Antares didn’t put much stock in the soothsayers, but Maximus had talked her into a session with the Tarot reader. She sat there while the ugly woman played with the cards. A concerned look came over the old woman. She looked up and placed the card in front of Antares.

“This is a bad card. The five of Pentacles. It foretells hard times, suffering and ill health. It also indicates rejection.”

Antares looked down her exquisitely formed nose at the card. “It doesn’t look so bad to me.”

“Ah. But that’s what you have me for. I can tell you what it means.”

Antares squirmed in her chair. I don’t have time for this, she thought.

“You are a gladiator, aren’t you?”

Antares nodded.

“Are you any good? Well, of course you are. If you weren’t, you wouldn’t be alive, would you?”

The old woman grinned up at Antares who just stared back at her.

“In what event do you compete?”

Antares cleared her throat. “I’m a gunslinger. I’m the top shooter in the arena. I’ve never even been nicked. Most of my opponents are dead before they can even draw, never mind get off a shot.”

The old woman nodded. “Mmmm. Your health is good?”

“Excellent.”

“You look good. You are very beautiful.”

Antares laughed. “That is true. That is why I command such high rewards to compete.”

“Your hand is steady? Your vision is good?”

“Excellent. And I’m the fastest shooter they’ve ever seen, anywhere. They’ve timed me with a chronograph. And I’m accurate. I shoot to kill. And I’m very good at it.”

“Yes. You’ve killed many women, haven’t you?”

Antares frowned. “That’s my job. It’s what I do. People pay a lot of money to watch me kill other women, especially if they’re pretty, or sexy.”

“Mmmmm. I’ll wager they would pay even more to see someone else kill you.”

Antares squirmed in her chair. This interview was getting uncomfortable. “They probably would. A lot of people bet against me every time I enter the arena. They lose. I wouldn’t bet against me if I were you.”

“Mmmm. Well, the cards don’t lie. Be careful. It may be time to retire.”

Antares laughed. “Retire? I’m the best there ever was, and I’m at the top of my game. Retire? Shit. That’ll be the day.”


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Wednesday, May 2, 2012

SPACEPORT: KAYLA'S HUNTER by Anne Kane

SPACEPORT: KAYLA'S HUNTER by Anne Kane

Hunter is a cyborg working for the military wing of the Interplanetary Alliance, with an obsession he just can't shake. Four years ago, he met a woman on Rigerion IV and spent the night with her. The sex was incredible. When he woke the next morning she was gone and no matter how hard he looked, he couldn't find her.

When he discovers that she is the captain of one of the most brazen pirate ships in this quadrant, he makes it his personal goal to track her down and punish her. Problem is, despite her status as one of the most notorious pirates in the galaxy, she was bred to be a submissive sex slave, so punishment just makes her hot! What's a cyborg to do?

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Spaceport: Kayla's Hunter
Anne Kane
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2012 Anne Kane

This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.


"Deploy the aft lazar array! Now!" Kayla jerked her body hard to the right, her neural implants signaling the ship to mimic her actions. She felt a grudging respect for the captain of the Intrepid as they narrowly avoided another volley from its photon cannons. This wasn't the first battle the two ships had engaged in, but if she didn't catch a lucky break soon, it might be the last.

"The primary engines are overheating! We need to shut them down before they blow." Aygar, her second-in-command threw her a panicked look as he diverted more coolant to the engines. "They've been at redline too long."

"If we drop to secondary engines, we might as well surrender now." Kayla tossed her head back to clear the unruly red tresses from her eyes. "We'll make a run for the asteroid field. If we can slip between the orbiting rubble, the Intrepid will have to break off. They can't maneuver that big mother of a ship in such close quarters."

Aygar nodded, his expression grim. He'd never let her down, and Kayla knew he'd do his best to hold the ship together until they reached safety.

For a while, it looked like they might just pull it off. Kayla dared to hope. The asteroid field loomed close. The Intrepid kept up a steady barrage of fire, but with her enhanced reactions, she managed to dodge the more lethal shots.

"There!" She maneuvered the ship between two chunks of space debris, a triumphant grin dying on her lips at the sudden silence. Shit! "Bring the secondary engines online. Now, damn it!"

"Aye, Captain."

Too late. The Intrepid's bulk swooped in to block their only escape route.

"Damn. Damn. Damn!" Kayla slammed her fist down on the weapons' console in front of her, gritting her teeth in frustration. Escape had been so close!

"Sorry, Captain. Those engines should have been replaced, or at least overhauled two standard years ago. I told you they were in rough shape." Aygar stared glumly at the massive warship on the forward display screen. "Now what are we going to do?"

Kayla closed her eyes, letting out a heavy sigh. It wasn't his fault. She'd gambled on those engines and lost. "Now we hope Hunter's in a good mood."

* * *
"So nice of you to join me." He looked even more intimidating in person than he had in the video conference, if that was possible. Hunter loomed over her, his massive frame dwarfing her own generous proportions. Immense ropes of muscle strained against the tight material of his Alliance uniform, and those piercing blue eyes seemed to look right through her to her innermost secrets.
Hunter was the type of male she'd been bred to crave, bred to satisfy in every conceivable way. Bred to fuck. An alpha-male cyborg. Kayla suppressed the shudder of pure lust that swept through her. Now was not the time to let her genetic programming overcome years of hard work.

She schooled her features to a bland calm. "You didn't leave me a whole lot of alternatives."
"No, I didn't, did I." The smile that curved his lips held no humor. "I've been waiting a long time to meet you." Taking a step forward, he grasped her wrists and slapped on a set of immobilizer cuffs. She could feel the effects immediately, draining her arms of their ability to move. At least he hadn't set the damn things to maximum. He turned to the man at his side. "Blake, take her down to my stateroom and set the cuffs to high. That should keep her out of trouble until I'm done with her crew.
And the damned Alliance paperwork."

Blake looked up at his commanding officer. "Don't you need to log her as one of the prisoners?"
Hunter gave a negative movement of his head. "She and I have unfinished business. As far as the Alliance is concerned, the captain of the pirate ship Defiant didn't survive the attack."

"But..." Blake's voice trailed off as Hunter stared pointedly at him. "Okay then. Your stateroom it is." Taking her by the arm, Blake led Kayla out of the landing bay.

The walk to Hunter's stateroom was longer than she expected, down corridor after long corridor. The place was a maze of intersecting passages and zero G drop tubes. By the time Blake palmed the control panel to the captain's stateroom, she was sure she'd never be able to find her way back to the bridge.

"The captain is a good guy." Blake didn't sound very sure of the fact. "He must have a reason for keeping your presence a secret from the Alliance."

Yeah. Like he intended to punish her personally for all the time he'd spent chasing her around the galaxy. Every time she'd turned around, the Intrepid had been there, harassing her. Somewhere back in the last double moon phase, she'd started to wonder if it were personal. Still, the idea of being turned over to the Alliance didn't thrill her, so for now she'd play nice.

"Could you take these cuffs off? I hate the way they make my arms feel. I promise I'll stay here and wait for the captain." She tried out one of her most charming smiles. Sometimes her breeding paid off. "I'd never find my way around this ship anyways."

"Sorry. Captain ordered full immobilization, and he likes to be obeyed. You might want to find a comfortable spot before I set them."

"No!" Kayla took a step backward, a ball of dread coalescing in her belly. She knew her fear showed on her face, and she didn't care. "I promise I'll be good. Please, don't do that."

Blake had the grace to look upset, but he shook his head. "Captain's orders. No way I can ignore them and stay on this ship. If you lie down on the bed first, it won't be so bad."

Not so bad? Obviously, the SOB had never had immobilizer cuffs used on him! They literally froze the entire nervous system and left the victim unable to do so much as blink. The creche where she'd spent her first ten years had been fond of using them to discipline the girls when they didn't jump fast enough to obey orders. Sex slaves were expected to obey without hesitation, and they were all bred to be sex slaves. Submissive sex slaves.

Kayla had been a very stubborn child, and she'd spent more time in those cuffs than she cared to remember. So, she knew. They were bad, really bad.

But she wouldn't beg. She never begged. Taking a deep breath, she schooled her features to show no emotions as she sat down and let the chair mold itself to her shape. Satisfied with the fit, she held out her arms.

"I really am sorry." The discomfort on Blake's face afforded her a small amount of satisfaction. "Are you sure you don't want to lie on the bed? The captain could be awhile."

Not likely. The last thing she wanted was to have Hunter walk in and see her lying spread-eagled on his bed like some sort of pagan sacrifice...

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Monday, November 14, 2011

ALL OR NOTHING AT ALL by Carolina Valdez

ALL OR NOTHING AT ALL by Carolina Valdez

Duty robbed them of their last night together. A deadly fireball struck Earth's New Los Angeles in the late afternoon, and instead of an evening of dinner and passionate sex with his lover, Battalion Chief David Garrison reported for duty and led his elite firewarrior squadron to fight the raging flames engulfing historic L.A. At first light the next morning, duty sends David's lover, Dillon Rapner, a special agent working undercover, off world to ferret out the source of these incendiary bombs destroying Old Town.

During his search, Dillon is captured and enslaved for several years on another planet. Only thoughts of returning to David, the man he would love forever, keeps Dillon alive and determined to escape.

Never in his wildest imaginings, however, did Dillon expect that when he returned to Earth he'd find another man in David's bed...

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~Excerpt~

...As Dillon talked, he reached for the bottom of his shirt and pulled it over his head and off.

Even as weary as he was, David’s groin tightened at the sight of that familiar, well-muscled chest, the heat and touch of which he knew. He stopped chewing.

“Tomorrow we’ll start work. It’s possible we can make some sales here.” Their cover was as salesmen, but in code the words conveyed the message that they’d search for the source of the phosphorus and other rare elements used in the fireballs as well as for a launching station.

David knew finding these things would be a dead giveaway this planet was the bomb source. In response to diplomatic inquiries, Oragone’s Supreme Authority had denied the attacks originated there, and even the Intergalactic Council couldn’t budge them on this, but the launches continued. The fact was, unless the fireballs were shot from some undetected space vehicle, their planet was in the right trajectory and orbit to have launched them.

“Find the sons of a gun, man,” David said. As a warrior, he wanted to stop having to kill the havoc created by the incendiaries. It was unbelievable to him that their enemies didn’t seem to know they were firing on a basically dead part of the city. The more terrifying part was wondering what would happen if they ever figured that out.

As Dillon talked, his gold and amber eyes seemed to bore into David’s as he unbuckled the belt on his trousers and slid the zipper down with deliberate slowness.

David almost choked on the food in his mouth as he heard its casual whisper and watched it reveal black boxer briefs, which should be as sleek as Dillon’s sports car, but right now housed a large bulge straining their front. Dillon discarded the dark slacks and briefs, then turned and leaned over to fold his slacks and lay them on the bed. The smooth roundness of a butt that was at once firm and yet not so hard it didn’t have a sexy give when squeezed, hid the bunghole at the base of the crevice between its globes. His balls swung loose and low between thighs David knew weren’t as large as his own, but were still hard and powerful. Waves of sensation rushed through him as images of the unbridled sex they’d planned for that last night flashed like a kaleidoscope in his head.

The camera’s lens zoomed in close as Dillon turned. “I’ll show you mine, if you’ll show me yours.”

A dick already at half-mast emerged from a tight bush of tawny curls. Dillon continued to speak, his voice hoarse with sensuality, his words explicit and erotic.

David hadn’t expected interplanetary sex. All thoughts of food fled. He stopped listening to the words that followed, letting their cadence lure him as Dillon’s hand closed around his dick and played with it. Fascinated, hardly daring to breathe, David watched Dillon tug it out and in, out and in, thrusting his hips at David as fine threads spun from a wet cock, its veins so distended the foreskin slipped back and the enlarging tip of his penis turned purplish.

David’s breathing quickened to match the sound of Dillon’s. The dick cradled in the caressing fingers was in full cock mode as he played with the crown and smeared the creamy pre-cum over it, as if to lube it for penetration. He pointed the head directly at David and thrust his hips at him.

“Bear in mind what you see is only half-size,” Dillon said.

David’s laugh at Dillon’s humor ended in a groan. His aroused cock threatened to stain, even as it strained to break free of his workout pants. He stood, stepped away from the bar and thrust pants and briefs to his ankles. The air hit, washing his hard, hot, hungry length with coolness. He wanted to switch the camera on so Dillon could see this big, hungry cock, but he’d been fighting hell in Old Town when the transmission came in. It was prerecorded, not live.

“You’re killing me,” he said through gritted teeth. “So close and yet so far, far away...”


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Thursday, September 22, 2011

RISKWEAR by Nobilis Reed

RISKWEAR by Nobilis Reed

Tales of Love and Engineering , Book 1

Frank invented a fabric that can become any material. Marta developed software that turns it into any garment. While attending the fashion show where the fruits of their labor are unveiled, they discover two things. First, her desires mesh perfectly with his dominant nature, and the clothes they have made are the perfect toy for living out their fantasies. Second, their system has a disastrous flaw.

Working together to fix the bug transforms their invention from a plaything of the elite into something far more exciting, and their relationship switches from simple compatibility into something that carries a risk for them both.

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~Excerpt~

“Please, just don’t...go too far,” Marta said, tremulously. “These people are clients, not friends, not strangers. Some of them wouldn’t understand.”

“We’ll see,” I said, fully intending not to go too far, but I couldn’t help ratcheting up her anxiety another notch.

We went back in to the party and found a knot of people gathered around the door where Darlene Collins had entered the room. Someone had put a glass of champagne in her hand, and servers moved through the room handing them out to everyone present. Marta and I took one each, and when the toast was spoken, Marta held hers up, shouted “Prost!” and downed it in one go.

Once the furor had died down, we finagled our way through the crowd and managed to get close enough to Darlene to get a few words in. “Congratulations,” I said, offering my unadorned right hand for a shake. “You’ve done some amazing things with that material.”

“Ah, yes, well, I couldn’t have done it without you two. Speaking of which, Marta, have you given Mr. Sarenti his bonus?”

Marta nodded, a little too enthusiastically. “Ja, ja. He is wearing them.”

The exchange puzzled me for a moment, until I realized she was talking about the suit. “It was very generous of you,” I said, giving her a nod. “I know how much they cost.”

“Use them in good health.” She gave a wink. “And be sure to have Marta show you everything it can do.”

“No doubt of that,” I said.

Marta let out a whoop of laughter that was cut short by a hiccup.

“Are you alright?” I said, quietly, as we drifted away from the knot of people surrounding Darlene.

“I’m fine.”

“You seem a little tipsy. Maybe it’s time we go?”

“But you haven’t done anything yet!”

“I don’t want to take advantage of you. Come on.” I led her to the door and out to the elevator. Once inside, the mirror-polished surface of the door allowed me to see her pout.

“Are you getting bratty on me?” I asked, turning to look her in the eye.

“I thought you were going to use the controller again.”

“What...like this?” I made a gesture over the controller and her blouse started sliding up her arms and into her corset as if there was a reel inside, winding the fabric together. She gasped and put her hands over her chest where the corset was barely covering her nipples. The blush that had been only playing over her cheeks now came out in full force. I pulled a floppy, rubbery square out from the back of her corset, rolled it up, and stuck it in my suit pocket. That square had been her blouse, but now it was just a lump of inert nanomachines in their “at rest” state. “Keep up the attitude, and you’ll get more of the same,” I said.

“Ooh, do you promise?” she asked with a giggle. The doors opened, letting us out into the hotel lobby.

“I thought we were going to your room?” she asked, starting to pout again.

“No, you need a little air, I think, and a little exercise. Burn off some of that alcohol.” I steered her out the door. It was only a bit past sunset, and the sidewalks were still busy with tourists and late commuters. We walked down to the corner and across the street into a beautiful public garden full of broad walkways lined with trees.

As we walked past a little carousel whose clientèle included children and adults in equal measure, I leaned in and spoke softly. “I don’t want to take advantage of you while your judgment is impaired. I want you fully awake and aware of what I’m doing.”

“Ach, I’m not that drunk.”

“I’ve never been drinking with you. I need to be sure.”

“Alright then, let’s just walk—hand in hand, as if we were lovers.”

We weren’t alone. The gardens were full of couples out enjoying the dusky evening, watching the city come alive with light and sound. Marta’s hand was soft and warm in mine, if a little sweaty, and I realized as we were walking that the simple action prevented me from accessing the controller.

When I slipped my hand out of hers to scratch the back of my head, I heard a slight gasp, and I knew that she’d been holding my hand on purpose to prevent me from using the controller. She tugged on her corset, trying to keep it from slipping down.

She was giving me a brave face with her teasing and bravado, trying to show me that she wasn’t afraid of what I could do with her little machine, when in fact she was turned on by the risk. I decided to remind her of exactly where the equities lay.

I moved my hand to her hip and steered her in the direction of one of the sculptures surrounded by a grassy lawn, and stopped to admire it. I dropped my hand to her posterior, eliciting another sharp intake of breath. Using my own body for cover, I lifted the back of her skirt and sought out the slit in her panties, and the sensitive skin revealed there. Her high heels and leggy build made it easy for me to reach without having to bend down.

She clamped her legs together, pinning my hand in place, but then relaxed as I twiddled my fingers between her thighs. “Frank,” she said, in a voice so faint it was no more than a breath, “I’m not drunk anymore.”

“That’s good,” I said. I could hear it in her voice; she was, indeed, sober again, or at least sober enough to judge rationally what we were about to do. “Do you still want to do this?” I asked.

“Ja.”

I gave her another stroke with my finger. It wasn’t really fair but it seemed like the thing to do. “You trust me?”

“Ja.”

“Good. Then I want you to walk back to the hotel. I’ll be behind you a little ways. Don’t look back, don’t run, just walk straight to the hotel.”

She nodded and gave me her purse, but didn’t move until I withdrew my hand from her skirt and gave her a little pat on the backside. “Go.”

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Friday, June 17, 2011

PIRATES by Nobilis Reed

PIRATES by Nobilis Reed
The Orgone Chronicles continues...

After their adventures in SCOUTS [Book One of The Orgone Chronicles, and 2011 EPIC eBook Award Finalist] - Challers and Valka are safe, protected aboard the Pirate city-ship known as "Port." The scars of their ordeal among the Scouts remain, however.

Valka is stuck with a hyper-fertile Ovor body, and the only way for them to raise enough money to change her back, is for them to join the Worthies-reality-TV celebrities who are always on camera. In an environment where loyalty is dismissed and betrayal is rewarded, their love suffers its greatest test yet.

Meanwhile, on Stakroya Station, their classmate Renedy wrestles with a budding sexuality that does not fit the station's rigid mold. An intimate night with the man who has been chosen for her does not go well at all. Instead she finds herself attracted to another woman; a relationship the Station can never condone.

Through it all, the sinister eyes of the Scouts see all. Freedom, for all involved, must be won again and again.

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Chapter One



Challers, Port



VALKA PANTED, her body hot with fever and soaked with sweat, while I knelt at her feet. According to what I had been able to learn, the proper vessel in which to receive an Ovor egg as it was laid was a shallow ceramic bowl. There was a stack of them next to me, enough for the seven eggs Valka was expecting. I was as ready as I could be.

Only, it wasn’t going well. Over the past week, Valka had developed a fever, and when she started feeling contractions, she sent a panicked call to my cubicle.

I had crossed the hall to her pod without even bothering to put on clothes. I couldn’t believe how bad she looked. Didn’t the doctors care what was happening? They were supposed to be taking care of her, vack them all! And now the eggs were coming.

“Portcon! We need medical attention here!” I screamed.

The floating holographic head that represented the interface to Port’s main computer system said simply, “Medical assistance is en route, Ward Challers Dizen. Estimate four minutes until arrival.”

Valka gave another grunt, pushing words past her teeth. “Too late.”

I saw a dark mass pushing out of her body, squeezing through. I held my hands up and took it in my hands as Valka’s muscles expelled it.

The thing smelled terrible. None of the recordings I had found mentioned that. I swallowed to keep the bile where it belonged and set the egg in a bowl with a white cloth over it. The next one wouldn’t be long.

“Medical team has arrived,” said Portcon. “Opening pod access.”

The door opened, revealing a middle-aged woman wearing a greenish coverall. “Come on out, make room for us.”

“She’s having her eggs now!” I shouted. “Someone has to stay with her!”

“They’ll be fine,” said the medic. “Come on out.”

I hustled to the door, and watched as the medic took my place. Another one squeezed in alongside Valka’s reclining chair. The second one took out an injector and put it to the inside of her elbow. Valka’s breathing immediately became less ragged, and she relaxed back down onto the chair. I could hear a wet squelch as another egg was born. My stomach took another tumble.

The smell only got worse. I knew something was wrong when the medics frowned and shook their heads.

“What?” I cried. “What’s wrong?”

“Ward, you’ll need to either keep quiet or go back to your pod.”

I took a deep breath. “Okay. Okay.”

The medics worked in near silence, occasionally exchanging a word or two of medical jargon that I couldn’t understand. Finally, they piled all of the eggs into one bowl and began packing up their gear. Valka was still and quiet, her only movement was the slight rise and fall of her blanket as she breathed.

“Is she going to be all right?”

“She’ll recover. Nasty infection she got there.”

“And the eggs?” I didn’t want to care about those eggs. They were a legacy of the Scouts and the forced breeding program they had imposed on Valka. But Valka cared about them. No matter how it had happened that she was bearing them, they were hers, and she had been looking forward to this day ever since we had arrived at Port. She cared about them, so I did too.

“Dead,” said one of the medics. “That’s what gave her the infection.”

“Dead? But how?”

“You two are the new kids—ex-Scouts, right?”

“Yeah.”

“You get in any fights while you were escaping?”

“Yeah. There was some fighting when we left.”

“Use the jump drive?”

“A few times.”

“Hyperwarp and jump drives aren’t the cleanest forms of propulsion. No good for developing eggs. That’s probably what did it.”

I didn’t know what to say. Part of me wanted to be glad that Valka wouldn’t be burdened with seven eggs to tend, but I knew that learning what had happened would devastate her. Finally, I just asked, “How long will she be asleep?”

“The drug will keep her out for four hours or so. After that, she’ll sleep naturally. You should probably get some too. Do you need a tranquilizer?”

“No, I’ll be okay.” I stumbled across the hall, through my door, and collapsed onto my chair. With the adrenaline of the evening starting to burn off, I was bone-tired. “Portcon?”

“Yes, Ward Challers Dizen?”

“Wake me up if Valka Parl wakes up, please.”

“I will do that, Ward Challers Dizen.”

I pulled the thin sheet over my body and tried to let the blackness of sleep wash over me. One thought kept intruding, however. How would I tell Valka? What would she say? I tried to comfort myself with the knowledge that whatever happened, I would be there for her. It didn’t feel like enough.

Nothing was going right. We had all expected something to change when we reached Port. We had expected there to be a tremendous outrage that innocent human lives were being used as power sources for the new weapon system being used by the Scouts, the one we were calling “egg missiles.”

Robert had tried to get the word out, convince people that something had to be done, but it seemed like everyone was convinced that it either didn’t matter, that the Scouts were despicable for a dozen other things anyway, or that we were lying to try to stir up trouble. Robert said it was a credibility problem; he had been away for too long, and nobody remembered him. The rest of us were complete unknowns.





VALKA’S RECOVERY took a long time. By the end of the second day, she was alert and awake again, though not really strong enough to come out of her pod. She was well looked after, with medical monitors installed in her pod and daily checkups by human medical staff. I looked in on her often, but when she was resting, I went back to my pod.

My interest in history, which I had gained during my studies at the Academy, became a need during those days of waiting. It was the only way I could distract myself. There were many, many things the Scouts had never told us, things the Pirates knew and were more than willing to share. I spent hours scanning the archives, sorting through events I had never even heard of in school, and it was better than fretting about things I couldn’t control.

One thing that particularly caught my attention was the true origin of the Scouts. During the Great Diaspora, after the discovery of orgone and faster-than-light travel, mankind’s government fragmented into a thousand individual colonies. Nobody had the strength to hold all of the colonies in one entity. There was a constant, low-level conflict throughout this era.

According to my studies at the Academy, the Scout Service appeared at this time as a force that sought to quell the constant fighting with diplomacy and trade. The records I found here, however, told a different story. One group, known as the Incorporates, started conquering systems one after another. They had mastered a technology for direct interface between brain and computer that allowed them much greater control over their warships. Not only that, they were able to command absolute loyalty from those they conquered by means of this interface. Whole populations were reduced to blissful, mindless slavery.

Once the rest of the galaxy learned what the Incorporates were doing, the reaction was immediate. The horror of it shocked them into action. Resources were marshaled, technologies were shared, and great warfleets were dispatched to erase the Incorporates from the galaxy. It was in this conflict that the Scouts, Fleet, and Merchants were founded.

When the war was over, the leaders of the three services decided to remain in power. They said it was to preserve galactic peace, but of course, it also preserved the “emergency powers” they’d been given in the war.

After fifteen days, Valka had gained strength to wake me with a kiss on the lips. I smiled. “Good morning. Feeling better?”

“Yeah.” Her face was bright, but there was an edge of darkness to it.

“I guess you know what happened to the eggs,” I said.

“I asked Portcon.”

“I would have told you, you know.”

“I know, but…I guess I didn’t see the need to involve you. I’m sorry. I should have let you tell me.”

I sat up and put my arms around her. “It’s okay. I’m sorry.”

When I let go, Valka’s features had taken a hard edge. “Seven more crimes the Scouts are responsible for,” she said.

“I have a feeling they’re not going to worry.” I sat up and hung my feet off the side of the chair to make room for her. “Portcon? Breakfast, please. The usual?”

“Oatmeal with fruit is available, Ward Challers Dizen.”

Valka hopped up on the chair and snuggled up next to me. She caught my eye as I stared down at her. “What?” she asked.

“I guess I’m not used to seeing you without that belly. It seems strange.”

She smoothed her coverall over her stomach, frowning. “I’m still kind of overweight. All this sitting around isn’t good for me. I got more exercise back on Stakroya Station. I also ate less.”

I leaned down and kissed her. “You know that doesn’t matter to me.” It was the truth. It was Valka that I loved, not her body. The Scouts had transformed her into an Ovor, a four-breasted race designed to produce large quantities of eggs, but that didn’t matter to me.

“It matters to me. I feel like a lump.”

“Portcon says that the nutritional content of the food is calibrated to keep you healthy.”

“Yeah, well, that may be true, but these pods are orgone collectors, right? They probably want to keep us a little fat, because more mass means more basal orgone.”

“I guess.”

“You guess? Look what they do to Merchants. Challers, you can’t trust these people. Everyone is looking out for their own interests.”

I looked down at my own body. I had to admit that the muscles I had gotten during my training with the Scouts were not as defined as they had been. “They’ve got a gym up on the Boulevard. We could go together.”

“Yeah, have you seen what it costs? I know I have a lot of credits with the Port, but I can’t spend it like that. I’m just going to have to be more careful about what I eat. Ooh! It’s almost ten. Put your screen on. I want to see the Morning Summary.”

“Hmm?”

“It’s a program they put on every morning to show you everything interesting that happened overnight.”

“Portcon, please display ‘Morning Summary.’”

Portcon’s face disappeared, replaced with a rotating logo and a dramatic voice. “Welcome to Morning Summary for day 842 of cruise fifty-six.” The logo was replaced by a long list of names, grouped in fours and fives under titles like David’s Destroyers and Madden’s Marauders. “Please choose the Worthies for your report,” the voice continued.

“What is this?” I asked.

Valka snuggled close, holding my arm. “I discovered it last week. Those people we saw patrolling the Boulevard? They call them Worthies. They have cameras following them around all the time, and folks can watch what happens. Pick David’s Destroyers.”

I reached out to the hologram and waved my finger at that section. The screen cleared, and an image formed of a man in a baggy white shirt and black pants lounging in a comfortable, armless chair. He swirled a drink in one hand and smiled at a short-haired woman who had just walked into the scene. She was similarly attired, though neither wore the weapons we had seen Worthies wear up on the Boulevard.

A disembodied voice accompanied the scene. “The romance between Krinna and David has continued since she signed up for his crew. It’s a good thing he convinced her to join up, since with only two members, his crew would have been delisted this morning. As it stands, he still has only ten days remaining to get back to four members and keep his crew going long term.”

David took her hand and pulled her down for a passionate kiss, which she returned with enthusiasm. She reached behind him and pulled out the knot that held David’s shirt together, and unfolded the two triangular flaps to expose a hairless, muscular chest.

“Are they going to have sex right there where everyone can see?”

“Uh-huh.” Valka squirmed closer and put an arm around my waist. “He’s been romancing her all week.”

We watched Krinna run her hands over David’s chest, and the camera zoomed in to show the effect her caress was having on his nipples. When it zoomed out again, she was shrugging out of her shirt, revealing a back almost as well-muscled as his chest. Soft music began playing in the background, a light tune that heightened the affectionate tone of the scene.

“You like this guy,” I said.

“Hmm?”

“I mean, you like watching him.”

“Oh, yeah. I mean, his crew is about to be officially disbanded, and he’s completely not concerned. In control. You don’t see that kind of confidence all the time.”

The point of view shifted again, this time coming down from above—a perfect angle to catch David taking one of Krinna’s small breasts into his mouth and the look of pleasure that came over her face as she arched her back.

I started off watching David, trying to figure out what it was that Valka saw, but Krinna soon had my full attention. I had never seen a woman who looked like that before. Even my mentor in the Scouts, Shirley, wasn’t as muscular as this woman. I was attracted and repulsed at the same time. Something inside me said it wasn’t right for a woman to look so masculine, but then I remembered the hermaphroditic Chevalier newgens I had met at Scout Headquarters. I pushed that thought aside.

As Krinna reached down into David’s pants, Valka slid her hand past my waistband and squeezed my swelling cock. “I’ve been thinking about you all week,” she said.

If watching David got her this worked up, I wasn’t going to complain. “Why didn’t you come over?” I moved my hand from her shoulder down under her arm to cup one breast through her shirt.

“I didn’t want to come over until I was ready.”

“Ready for what?”

“You know.” She pulled her shirt up over her head and threw it aside. “This.” Her four Ovor breasts were full and round, tipped with thick, dark brown nipples. She did have a bit of extra weight on her, but I barely noticed. By the time both of us were fully naked, the couple on the holoscreen were naked too, rubbing their bodies together as they kissed.

Valka leaned back on the chair, letting her legs fall to either side. “I want you to pleasure me while I watch.”

I smiled and climbed up onto the chair, between her legs. Her pussy lips, which had been kept hairless while we were at Scout Headquarters, were covered with fur. I ran my fingers through it. “I don’t know if I still know how,” I said with a smile.

“Mmm, I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

While I explored with my fingers, I heard the sounds of Krinna and David’s encounter over my shoulder. Judging from his encouragements and her muffled responses, she had something important in her mouth. I took it as my cue to get my own mouth involved.

I pulled her pussy lips apart. It had been too long since we had been this close. Valka’s advanced pregnancy had made a lot of sexual activities difficult or tiring, and I was elated to be able to do this for her again. I licked slowly, playing with her inner lips, flicking them lightly with my tongue. As I gradually moved up towards her clit, I felt tension building in her thighs.

“Vack, Challers,” she said between deep breaths, “I missed this.”

I chuckled. “So did I.” I hadn’t performed this act on Valka too many times, but I knew how to pay attention to her reactions and adjust. With a light touch, I placed my lips around her clit, drawing only just enough suction to be felt. She made a soft, contented noise and touched my head, not pushing down or pulling back. She was simply acknowledging that I was there.

I sucked harder, flicking my tongue at the tiny bud of flesh between my lips. “Ooh, too much,” she gasped, and I backed off, licking along the sides of her clit.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay. That’s much…mmm…much better.”

I slipped one arm under her body and drew my hand up to stroke the lower part of her cunt. A brief flash crossed my mind of a black, sickly egg. I pulled back to look. Except for the hair, it hadn’t changed all that much since I had seen her last, making it easy to dispel the image from my mind.

The sound of David and Krinna’s sexual encounter changed. I looked over my shoulder to see Krinna straddling him, flexing her thighs as she rose and fell, impaled on his cock. I wanted to fuck Valka too, but I could wait until she’d had an orgasm. I went back to my task with the goal firmly in mind.

Slipping my fingers inside her, I searched for the firm knot of flesh on the upper wall of her channel. It was there, where I had found it once before. I hoped the result would be as spectacular as the first time. With quick little strokes, I rubbed the spot with my fingers while I licked the hood of her clit in the same rhythm. I imagined a kind of circuit between my hand and my mouth, with Valka’s body strung between. When my tongue started to get a little sore, I switched to using my nose for a few seconds while I gave it a rest, and went back. When my fingers cramped, I switched hands.

She did not disappoint me. Her thighs clenched around my shoulders as I worked, and growling cries escaped her throat. I could feel her pussy tensing around my fingers and even smell the musky change in her scent.

And then I noticed that the top of my head was wet. I pulled back and looked around.

Milk dribbled down from all four of Valka’s breasts, and droplets were scattered all over her stomach. She looked down at me, grinning sheepishly. “Sorry,” she said, when she’d gotten her air back.

I laughed. “Don’t be. I think it’s great. It’s like you’re ejaculating too.”

“I guess I am.” She took the lower pair in her hands and squeezed. Streams of milk sprayed out. “They got sore after the eggs came and this made them feel better. Ever since then, I’ve been milking myself. Port said that most women who get sick during pregnancy never even start lactating, but Ovors might be different. The information wasn’t complete.”

I climbed up her body, licking the droplets up as I went. “I could have helped, you know.” The milk was sweet and warm, with just a hint of salt from her sweaty skin.

“I know. I guess I didn’t want you to see me that way.”

“I want to be with you no matter what, Valka. I don’t mind seeing you weak or sick. I want to take care of you.”

“Okay. I’m sorry. I think I like the idea of you taking care of me.”

I sucked on the hard nub of her nipple and got a tiny squirt of milk. “Does that feel good?”

“Mmm, yes.”

“Good. I like doing it.” I sucked some more, and gradually felt the tightness in her skin recede. I switched to the other.

“Mmm, that’s much better,” she said.

I went from breast to breast, gently draining her of the offending fluid. My hard cock bumped her thigh, and when I finished, I shifted position to enter her.

“Oh, Challers.” She put a hand on my chest. “Please don’t.”

“Why not?”

“An Ovor is always fertile. I don’t want to go through that again.” Her eyes pleaded with me. “Please.”

I hung over her. If I pressed the issue, I could probably convince her to let me fuck her, but we had both been through too much for me to even consider it. I sat back on my heels, my cock jutting up from between my thighs.

“Here. Let me do this instead. Lie down.” She climbed off of the seat so I could take her place, and then she climbed back on, straddling my knees. She transferred some of the copious lubrication from her pussy onto my cock before wrapping her lower pair of breasts around it with her hands. “How does that feel?”

“Mmm, that’s not bad. It’s not as good as being inside you, but it’ll do.”

Above her head, David and Krinna were cuddling on their chair. She sat on his lap, sitting crosswise with his arm supporting her shoulders. Their soft demeanor contrasted with the hard edges of their bodies. They both seemed too tough for such contemplation, but there they were.

I returned my attention back to Valka. Her upper breasts bobbed hypnotically as she moved. I brought my hands up to them, stroking their soft skin as she continued pleasuring me. “They’ve gotten bigger, haven’t they?”

“A bit.”

I watched my cock disappearing between her breasts. “Seems like a lot more…mmm…than a bit to me.”

She looked down. “I guess.”

I gasped as the first jet erupted from my cock, arching over my stomach to land on my chest. It was so soon it caught me somewhat by surprise. My stomach and Valka’s breasts were splattered with semen.

“Feel better?” she asked.

I laughed. “Yeah. Thanks.”

Valka got a washcloth from the hygiene station and cleaned herself off. “You really like me this way?”

“Yes. Of course, I do. Why do you ask?”

“I want to save up to get enough to use a gentank.” She climbed up onto the chair and sat cross-legged, facing me, and handed me the towel.

“How much does it cost?”

“The price seems to fluctuate for some reason, but it’s usually something like a hundred thousand.”

I whistled. “Where are you going to get that kind of money?”

“Well, you know you don’t have to stay in your pod all day. That pays your basic life support, but if you want to accumulate credits, you have to do more than that. I’ve been looking around and there are a few jobs I could do.”

“How much would you get?” I finished wiping myself off and tossed the cloth into the recycling hatch.

“Well, there’s a job as a data wrangler that would pay twenty-five an hour. If I work ten-hour days, then I could have enough to use the gentank in about two hundred days, given what we’re starting with.”

“Could you do it from your pod?”

“No, this would be at a data center a few decks down.”

“So you’d have to pay life support while you were away. Valka, that’s not two hundred days. That’s a lot more. It might take years.”

Valka groaned. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

“I don’t mind.”

“I do! I don’t like this body. I don’t want to have any more eggs!”

“Maybe there’s a drug or something that will stop that.”

“There is. It costs ten credits a day.”

“That’s not too bad.”

“I don’t like draining our savings like this. I’m not making any income, and it costs life support any time we visit.”

I looked up at the screen where David was walking along the Boulevard with Krinna and another Worthy whose name I had missed.

“How much do Worthies make?”

“I don’t know.”

“Portcon,” I called. “How much do Worthies earn?”

“A Worthy earns shares of all the crisis and transcendent orgone that is generated while being observed by Wards.”

“And how much is that?”

“It varies widely, but most Worthies earn between two thousand and five thousand credits in a day.”

I turned to Valka. “That’s it, then. We need to become Worthies.”

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