("`-''-/").___..--''"`-._ `6_ 6 ) `-. ( ).`-.__.`) (_Y_.)' ._ ) `._ `. ``-..-' _..`--'_..-_/ /--'_.' ,' (((' (((-((('' (((( K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N _________________________________________ WARNING! This text file contains sexually explicit material. If you do not wish to read this type of literature, or you are under age, PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!! _________________________________________ Scroll down to view text -------------------------------------------------------- This work is copyrighted to the author © 2011. Please don't remove the author information or make any changes to this story. All rights reserved. Thank you for your consideration. -------------------------------------------------------- Blue Planet by Mararch (mararch@pacbell.net) *** Robert and Debbie, newly married innocents, get pulled into the far future in order to help free humanity from a race of Dominant females. Novel length. (MF, bi, nc, 1st, orgy, bd, mc, sci-fi) *** CHAPTER ONE She stared into the mirror, feeling the fluttering in her stomach like the tickling of frantic dragonfly wings. It was the dream she had waited for, at long last coming true. She was a bride, minutes away from hearing the solemn tones of the Wedding March and walking down the aisle of the old stone church before all her friends and family... from repeating the vows, from feeling the ring slipped onto her finger and the intoning of the final words that would bind her and Robert together for the rest of their lives. It was her day and she stood, her eyes locked on the vision of herself in the full length mirror against the wall of the small side room of the church and saw the glow that filled her features, feeling that strange, once in a lifetime mix of utter, erupting electricity and deep, inner peace. Images flitted through her mind, of that day, back at college, when she'd first met him, their first date, their first kiss, the first time he had looked into her eyes and told he loved her, echoing the leaping joy in her own heart as she gazed back at him. And the gush of feelings that welled over her the first time they held each other close and perfectly in the dark silence, fully clothed as they lay on his bed in his cubby hole dormitory room, and whispered and giggled. They'd known even then, without ever having to say a word, that they would save themselves for each other to enjoy on this night that, after five, frantic, wonderful, exciting years had finally arrived. It was strange, she thought to herself with a sly grin, that she had managed to last so long without falling prey to that rush of jittering need that had seemed to have claimed all her friends long before. Not that she had anything against carnal enjoyment. She didn't. All her dearest friends would whisper of their own frantic, midnight tussles with various boys, joking about the size of their organs or their clumsiness or boasting of the deep, profound pleasure they had enjoyed in the pure lust of the act. And she always joined in their laughter, the oohing and ahhing and thought not one bit the worse of them. But such things were simply not for her. She had always known, since she was first rushing through the anxiety of her young body beginning to bud into that of a woman that she would save herself for the one man she would love for the rest of her life. And that thought had always pleased her and perhaps made her feel just a little bit special. Naturally she had felt the tingling, that deep, urgent flutter inside her sex now and then. But she merely enjoyed the small charge of extra alertness it seemed to cause in her and never took it any further. Once, years before, she had indulged in touching herself, exploring the warm, moist folds of her sex with a delicate brushing touch of fingertips. But she had let the feelings swell within her, like a balloon pumping larger and larger, and then relaxed, drifting on the tingling as it slowly faded rather than tipping herself over into the explosion of clenching muscles and deep, rippling sensations of release. She wanted her first leap from that high cliff of excitement into the pool of carnal pleasure to come over her when her beloved Robert was buried deep inside her. And that would happen this very night. That thought caused her sex to flutter faintly and she clutched the muscles that surrounded it, savoring not only the faint shudder of pleasure that rippled through her but also the realization that she was quite wet inside. But this time she would not dismiss the arousal, let it flow and fall away on its own, unfulfilled. This time she would fix on it and tickle her mind with the thought that in a very few hours her gift would be opened and filled, her body would bear the weight of her husband and her most vulnerable and delicate center would be deeply pierced by him. A slow, wicked smile spread over her lips as she let her eyes trail down the figure in the mirror. The white, flowing dress gripped her form in all the right places, accentuating the curve of her hips, the slim, firm waist and the high roundness of her breasts. She had seen other young women's bodies and she knew hers would be a visual delight to any man who was lucky enough to encounter it. And under the soft folds of the satin wedding dress she had decked it in a parade of lacy delights with which to torment poor Robert to his fullest fury and make him ravenous for her. Tonight she would be, at last, conquered, and she wanted it to be a destruction of her innocence so complete that when she finally fell into exhausted sleep it would be as a fully blossomed woman, no longer wondering, no longer teasing, no longer trapped outside the mystery of her own potential pleasure. Tonight, she thought to herself as she gazed into the piercing green eyes of the tall, lithe, raven haired beauty in the mirror, your beloved will fuck you until you scream. And she giggled at the tingling shudder that flashed through her body on the thought. Behind her the door to the small anteroom opened and there stood her best friend, Donna, who had been more than a sister to her since they first shared a room in their mutual initial isolation from the comforts and familiar graces of home that freshman year at college. In the mirror she could see Donna catch her gaze, and the naughty, almost sneering grin that played over her lips as she admired her friend, pausing to lean against the doorframe. "Well" Donna purred, her deep, sensuous voice lilting with hidden meaning "don't stand still too long in one place, honey. You'll leave a puddle." The young bride's eyes flared for a moment before she pinched her face in mock disapproval at her friend, now giggling at her own wicked wit and then blushed and giggled along with her. "Is it that obvious" she said quietly, pulling her eyes away from where Donna was now approaching her and fixing on the image of her own face once more. "Honey" Donna said, stepping up behind her and gently reaching up to lay a soft, warm hand on her arm "I'll bet you could cum right now if the right man just says 'boo' to you." The bride quickly dropped her eyes and the blush deepened, her face standing in a growing crimson above the snowy white of the dress, but her giggle tightened with a deeper glee. It was so good, she thought, to finally be ready to know all those secrets, she thought to herself. Suddenly Donna stepped to the side and playfully swatted her friend on the curve of her buttock, causing her to jolt and gasp, the unexpected sensation sending a deep rocketing rush of electric fire through her that ending in tingling toes and quivering hair at her forehead under the edge of the white, lacy veil. "Now come on" Donna said "let's get you hitched." Then Donna turned and moved to the door where she stopped and looked back, waiting. With a final wistful glance at herself, the final time she would look upon herself and see a virgin, the bride turned, drew in a deep breath, reached down to gather up the billowing folds of the dress before her and glided toward the door. * Robert thought he would choke to death and clutched his hands even firmer together before his crotch, arms stiff and beginning to get sore, fighting the urge to reach up and run a finger under the stiff, tight collar of the tuxedo shirt. More than anything he was afraid it would withdraw dripping with sweat borne of nerves and uncertainty. Not about Debbie. Never about Debbie. From that first day his only questions about her had been how soon could they be bound together and how long would they live to enjoy that union. There had never been anyone else for him and never would be. They both had known that from the moment their eyes had first locked and they'd seen the reflection of their own souls deep inside one another. They were born to be together. And because of that deep, unbreakable understanding, there had never been any need on his part to push for that groping, snuffling, momentary rush of sweaty physical enjoyment all his friends seemed to think about constantly. They would, he had known, have their entire lives to savor the closeness of each other's flesh, to learn what pleased and comforted, soothed and fulfilled. So whenever the guys would play their childish little game of boasting about which of the females known to them all each had bedded, Robert simply nodded and smirked and shared a silent, knowing look. Sometimes they'd kidded him, egging him to reveal some of his own conquests, but he never would, merely stating with bland disinterest that a gentleman didn't discuss such things. The fact that he literally had no conquests to reveal was something only he knew. In fact, he realized as he slowly turned his head to look back at the row upon row of guests in the pews, he never even had any campaigns to speak of. Oh, he'd touched girls in the fumbling days of high school, and once had even slid his hand between the shyly parted thighs of a young, slim, pretty blond and discovered to his wonder the hot, moist folds of her. He'd been fascinated and amazed that his delicate touches over the folds and ridges of her opening could cause her to shudder so violently, and when his fingertip had brushed over the tiny, hard nub of what he'd later discovered was her clitoris, her whimpering moan of limp surrender was an amazement to him. But for himself, he'd never had his organ inside a woman. In truth, he'd had no such desire since the day he'd met Debbie, and very little of what his jocular friends called the "wooden mallet heebie-jeebies". Not that he didn't occasionally find himself erect and sensitive to the slightest pressure or brushing touch. But the very few times he'd indulged in stroking himself always seemed to him to be a mindless and embarrassing activity. Yes, he considered, it felt good, but he knew, deep down, that feeling himself inside of Debbie's secret, warm, moist folds and gazing into her eyes, sharing with her the silent mutual knowledge that their bodies were now truly one would be the final, ultimate expression of his love, and that made a fluttering wrist and an idle fantasy seem empty in comparison. He had carefully planned and taken two full weeks off from his position as a rising young Junior Executive at the company in order to devote his full attention to his new bride and discovering together what such intimacy and love were all about. He turned his head the other way and noticed that Josh, his college roommate for the last two years, was smirking at him, his own tuxedo bulging at the shoulders of his muscular frame. "If you wanna run," Josh muttered from the corner of his mouth "I'll hold 'em off for ya." Robert returned the smile, more for the sake of Josh's friendship than in approval of the lame jest. The only running he wanted to do at this moment was forward, in time, to the instant when the puffy faced, elderly, darkly robed man who stood in front of the alter before him, waiting just as Robert now was, would say those words, pronouncing Robert and Debbie man and wife, because that was when he knew his real life would finally, at long last, begin. "You sure you wanna go through with this?" Josh muttered, his tone teasingly cautious. Robert shrugged shyly and tossed his friend an embarrassed grin. Josh rolled his eyes in mock exaggeration, as if giving up on a lost cause before letting his own smile spread over his face. "Well," Josh sighed quietly, as if under his breath, "at least you'll be able to get it any time you want." Robert looked at him, his face falling to a mask of open, innocent confusion. "Get what," he said, his tone curious and awed at once. Josh snorted, stifling a laugh and turned, leaning in and bumping Robert's arm with his own in a fumbling gesture of affection. Robert nudged him back and then, as if suddenly noticing they'd been caught in some light mischief, both young men struggled to appear solemn once more. Out of the corner of his eye, Robert could see the old reverend notice something at the back of the church, his arms suddenly bending in an involuntary gesture of expectation. The organ struck the first, heavy chords of the processional. A general rustle of satin and silk and solemn occasion clothing swelled throughout the church as the gathered witnesses turned to look toward the back of the large, high ceilinged room. The organ struck into the Wedding March and Robert slowly turned to see his mate, the partner of his soul, gliding slowly down the aisle on the arm of the tall, white-haired man who had given her life and now was about to give her over to his keeping, forever. Hurry, Robert thought suddenly. Hurry or I'll go mad. * They remembered the following hours in fragmentary fits and starts, some moments rushing by as if in ghostly images and shadows, others hanging, crystal clear in all their minute detail, as if frozen for what seemed eternities of heartbeats. The droning of the old pastor, the recital of the vows, the rings exchanged and received and finally the lifting of the veil and the touch of lips. At last it was done and, together they were moving, arm in arm, down the way she had approached and out from among the gathered witnesses to the bright shock of sunlight outside the church. Then came the reception line, and the endless photographs, the shaking hands and small talk, all the while neither one stepping so much as arms reach from the other, their hands clasped, occasionally squeezing, sending urgent reassurances of adoration through their palms to one another. And then the reception, the open hall like a gymnasium, packed with tables and noise and speeches and food and friends and toasts and yet more ceremonies and traditions to struggle through. And not once throughout the day from the moment their lips had touched, sealing their union at the alter, had they spoken the word love, for it would have been unnecessary and redundant, like looking at the Empire State Building and saying that it was big. For them love was a given and always had been and forever would be. And finally it was time. Debbie slipped her hand under the table and placed it lightly on Robert's thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze. He turned and saw the knowing smile, the raised eyebrows and understood instantly. Rising they each turned to say their good- byes to Donna and Josh, each in their own way and each received the little lascivious, knowing leer. Each grinned shyly and blushed, then moved slowly around the table, bending to plant a kiss on a cheek or shake a hand, slowly working their way toward the aisle between the tables that led to the large, double doors. By the time they could finally break away to move, hand in hand, toward their escape, there was general applause and some drunken cheers following their exit. They were laughing by the time they left the hall. The ride to the hotel was a tense, nervous silence in the back of the limo, both fully aware of what now lay ahead of them. Robert's palms pressed into the seat on either side of him, arms tense, eyes locked at the glimmering lights of the city that flashed by the speeding vehicle. Debbie took many deep, slow breaths and forced a casualness into her expression that she did not feel as she scanned the passing scenery. At last the limo turned into the drive of the hotel and pulled to a stop under the large awning. The doorman stepped briskly up to open the door and Robert, legs weak and trembling slightly, climbed out of the back seat, turning to extend a hand for Debbie who managed to slide across the seat and rise with smooth grace, despite the rustling folds of the billowing, white dress. Hand in hand they entered the lobby of the hotel. The concierge looked up from behind his desk with a smile and raised an arm, snapping his fingers with a sharp click. A bellhop was instantly moving to intersect the couple and lead them to the elevator. The doors slid closed and they rose to the topmost floor. Stepping from the elevator the bellhop gave a slight bob of his head and gestured toward the door to the honeymoon suite, stepping to it and sliding the key he held ready into the lock. The door opened and he stepped back allowing Debbie to glide through, giving him a blushing half-smile. The bellhop extended the key which Robert seemed to reach for as if utterly distracted. Before even waiting for the offer of a tip the bellhop nodded, turned briskly and was back in the elevator behind the doors already sliding closed. Inside the large, plush room Robert turned and slowly closed the door, hearing it latch with a sharp sound rich with a sense of finality. As he turned he noticed their bags already sitting in the bottom of the recess by the door that served as the coat closet, then stepped fully into the room. He stopped short at what he saw. There was Debbie, perched daintily on the foot of the bed, her hands folded in the billowing fabric of the dress that collected in her lap. For the first time since he had met her Robert had no idea what he should do next. He smiled sheepishly, his hands feeling suddenly awkward as they dangled at his sides, twitching slightly. A slow, knowing smile spread over Debbie's lips and she rose, her body seeming to drift up to her full, majestic height. They simply stood there for a long moment, separated by the length of the room, staring at one another, each savoring or enduring these final few moments of innocence. Then, without a word, Debbie's hand rose and her fingers touched the topmost of the many, tiny pearl buttons at the collar of her dress, slowly, deftly slipping it open, her eyes never leaving those of her husband. Robert swallowed hard, unable to move as the full import of what he was witnessing flooded his already jangled mind. With smooth grace Debbie's fingers slowly, patiently, worked their way down the front of the long, white gown, parting button by button. The stiff folds of the bodice, at last released from their rigid attention, began to part, revealing a shimmering glimpse of satin beneath. At last her hands were slipping open the final buttons at the bottom of the bodice and she was reaching up to peel the heavy garment from first one shoulder, then the other. As if it were a living thing finding a sudden joy at its release the wedding dress dropped from her, puddling gently around her calves in a creamy heap of soft fabric and from this virginal shell seemed to be released an erotic temptress hungry for a carnal conquest. Her torso was held in a tight, white satin corset that seemed to cup and lift her firm, ample breasts like a pair of eager, offering hands, the stays like tiny, vertical ribs running from under the billowing cups along her sides to the high cut of the fabric at her hips. From there thin lacy strands slinked down her thighs, their silver clasping fingers firmly gripping the lacy swirls of the white stocking tops, the smooth, creamy circlet of her thighs peeking provocatively out of the opening. Even as the dress seemed to plummet from her body, Debbie felt a rush of cool air flood over her body and as if on instinct her sex clutched and quivered, squeezing the gathering moisture down until she could feel it on the very lips. A moment later she felt the moisture seep into the gathered satin that pulled tightly up at her sex and begin to cool, causing her to shudder slightly. She could actually feel her clit begin to throb with need and excitement and for the first time she allowed herself to savor the rush of pleasure that rolled slowly through her from that center of her womanhood. Fuck me, she heard herself thinking, her eyes riveted on Robert's over the distance between them. Fuck me until I'm weeping. Fuck me until I scream. Fuck me until I beg for mercy. Fuck me until I cum, husband, and then fuck me even harder. Fuck me until I die, she thought, letting each wicked thought fall quivering through her stomach and splash against her engorged and throbbing clit. Robert did not realize for a long moment that his lips had parted and hung slack and open, so transfixed was he by the vision before him. He had seen pretty, attractive, even lovely women before, some clad only in the skimpiest of bikinis at beaches, but the realization that the goddess who stood across the room from him in garments that carried no other message than pure, animal hunger of lust was now his, perfect and forever his alone flooded through his body and caused his muscles to tighten in a combination of arousal, confusion and outright terror. Would he be worthy of her? Would he be able to please her? Would she... he swallowed hard at the thought... would she cum? He knew how important that was, that a man be able to make his wife cum, give her that ultimate pleasure, and he so wanted to give that to her. Suddenly he jolted slightly, as if a part of his drifting brain realized he was slipping into a reverie and pulled him back to the moment. He smiled, his lips quivering slightly, trying to form words in his mind he might say to express his utter awe, his almost pure worship for her and the love they shared. But before he could sort out the rush of feelings and pluck any coherent message from them, he saw her raise one leg and step sideways, out of the folds of whipped cream like cloth at her feet. Her face broke into a cool, almost devilish grin as she slowly raised the other leg, a fold of the heaped dress caught on her toes, and with a sudden flick of her knee flung it away, tumbling through the air like a thick, fluffy cloud, to land in a sprawling puddle of fabric a few feet away. And when her leg came down it rested now apart from the other, planted firmly, with a touch of playful defiance. She raised her arms and hooked her open hands on her hips, cocking her pelvis to one side. "Well?" she said quietly, her voice cooing, teasing, tempting. Robert swallowed hard once more and suddenly it struck him she was waiting for him to do something. With a crooked grin and a slight puff of expelled breath his arms jerked up tensely, his hands reaching for the lapels of his jacket. The tie had been opened at the reception long before and now hung uselessly around his neck, the top button of his shirt open, the collar slightly splayed. He grabbed at the jacket and pulled, managing almost in tangling his shoulders in the corners of it before it slipped free and slid down his arms, bunching around his wrists. He shook his arm and only succeeded in turning one sleeve inside out, the bulk of the jacket dripping down behind him like unruly taffy. It took him a number of wild flaps and stretches to finally yank one arm free from the now inverted jacket, grab it with the free hand and virtually tear it off, flinging it away into the corner. Debbie was giggling, he saw, amused as much by his fumbling as she was charmed by his puppy-like innocence. Even before the jacket landed his hands were already at his shirt front, fumbling with the small buttons, trying to slip them apart and not succeeding well. He barely got two open before his hands seemed to lose patience and plunged to his belt, slipping it open and undoing the clasp, sliding the zipper down and raising a leg to slide the trousers off. Only when they began to bunch at his ankles did he realize he was still wearing his shoes. He almost toppled over as he muttered a curse and grabbed at the shoe through the bunched fabric of his trousers. Debbie was laughing openly now as he tore the heavy footwear free and raised his other leg to remove it's heavy leather case. With a few small hops he managed to yank it loose and hurled the rumpled mess aside. Robert turned to where his bride stood, his body tense, as if ready to leap at her, and she stifled her giggles, struggling to compose herself. The look in his eyes, part amusement, part hunger, quickly dissipated her laughter and in a few moments they were standing, once again, still, eyes locked across the distance that separated them. Then slowly, as if by silent, mutual agreement, they each stepped forward, the distance between them closing, until they were standing nose to nose, able now to hear the faint rasping of each other's breath, feel it lightly float and tickle over each other's skin. Robert realized that he was growing erect, beginning to ache and throb, his excitement fueled by the faint scent of Debbie's building arousal that came drifting up to him. She could feel the lips of her sex now pulsing gently in time to the heavy beats of her heart, her clit tingling. Robert reached up and lightly let his fingertips brush against her cheek, savoring and admiring her. She closed her eyes, drinking in this first tender touch in the wonderful, soon to be fulfilled ballet of their joining. And then they stepped into each other's arms, their bodies sliding into place, a perfect fit, as if designed for no other purpose but to mold together in a blissful, physical harmony. Robert leaned his face toward her, his eyes slipping shut, as Debbie raised her own lips toward his. When they touched the tingle that flooded them both was be first of many tiny ecstasies facing them in the dark, private hours ahead. As if in perfect concert of souls they both sighed, their breathes mingling in the chasm of their slowly parting lips. Tongues extended and brushed. An instant later, it happened. The energy bolt seemed to materialize no more than a foot above their entwined bodies, striking down with the power of a hundred densely packed lightning discharges, shooting through every cell of the couple within a millisecond. Every synapse in both their brains discharged at once under the onslaught, obliterating all thought, all feeling, all vestige of two human souls. Their collected muscle tissue went instantly rigid in an Electro-chemical frenzy as the energy pulse infused every fiber down to the core of their bones. Had there been anyone in the room to observe, they might have felt on the edge of their consciousness a high, quick something like a buzzing snap sear through the expanding, super-heated air. They would not have been able to know that if slowed a thousand times they might have heard an echoy, metallic voice saying - "Target lock... warp initialized... engage wormhole... mark!" The immeasurable blast of energy flooded every cell of the couples now rigidly locked bodies and struck against the thick, soft carpeting beneath their feet, then seemed to swell, filling the room in blinding flashes of raw power. Within a fragment of a second any viewing eye would have been burned to ash, instants before the loud, sudden crack of the discharge rebounded off the walls. And the light was gone, the sharp noise bouncing through the confines of the room. All that was left to show Robert and Debbie had ever entered the room were the still packed bags in the closet, the discarded garments in random piles here and there, and a deep, scorched patch in the soft, cream colored carpeting where they had been standing. Robert and Debbie were gone. To be continued in chapter 2... Will post more if enough people are interested. mararch@pacbell.net ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author does not condone the described behavior in real life in anyway shape or form. Anyone tempted to act out any of the scenarios in this story; should seriously consider seeking professional help. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Kristen's collection - Directory 71