Spacetran: Part 4 And 5 free porn video

Spacetran By Beverly Chapter 4 I turned angrily upon the crowd of gaping crewmen and snapped out an order. "What are you all bloody gawking at? - And leave that container alone." The only sound was the stuttering wind stumbling around the flight deck as the ship increased speed and steered to rejoin the rest of the fleet. Suddenly I was doused by a spraying 'cats-paw' and I realized my lightweight summer frock had become transparent. If I had given the crewmembers a splendid view as I descended the ladder I was now adding to it as the cold damp spray erected my nipples. To add insult to injury there were dozens of video cameras to bear witness to my immodesty. Fortunately a three-ringer arrived and smartly saluted me. "Compliments of the captain ma-am, and may I escort you to the -" "Bridge." I finished for him as his eyes fell on my freezing erect nipples. "Lead on Mac Duff. This is going to be interesting." I mumbled to myself. The lift spewed me out right beside the captain's cabin and I was hastily ushered in without a trace of formality. The Captain stood up as I entered and offered me a comfortable armchair. I looked around and couldn't help comparing its generous spacious proportions with the cramped metallic squalor of Cold Albatross (Mark 1). By comparison however, Cold Albatross (Mark 2) was a much more intimate and comfortable little craft. The captain caught my curious gaze and raised a questioning eyebrow. I pulled a wry expression and introduced myself. "Miss Ruby Denby, United States Citizen and Biological correspondent for the Free Thinker's Magazine." "Captain Rawlin Ma-am, Her Majesty's navy at your service. Do you wish to talk?" "Now's as good a time as any." I replied. "Thank you ma-am. Might I invite my technical officers and some of your compatriot technical experts who are attending some flight trials we are running in conjunction with the Americans." "Whoever you wish captain, I can't help much technically. The real genius just left with her craft." "Her craft?" "Indeed. The builder and owner of that incredible bit of hardware was none other than a brutally damaged and cruelly misused misfit child of this planet." "Was that the girl I saw in the doorway above the ladder?" "The very same. She's hardly a girl though, she says she's over fifty." Suddenly the captain was 'bleeped' and he picked up his phone. After a curt 'Yes.' He turned again to me. "The joint admirals in charge of the combined exercises are helicoptering across from the American Aircraft carrier. They're also returning the pilot of the damaged harrier he wishes to thank you." "It's the lady who just left that he should be thanking." "Yes indeed. Let's go and meet the brass." I was ushered into a large planning room and for nearly an hour I related my experiences warts and all. For several seconds a thoughtful silence reigned then I suddenly remembered my faithful little tape recorder. Hastily I dug it out of my purse and played back the part where Beverly had related her childhood. Once again it brought a lump to my throat and I couldn't help noticing a few damp eyes amongst the fifty or so hardened battle veterans. Then I played my recordings of Thlom and my chats with the amphibian geneticists. Fortunately as a well-practiced professional I had also kept notes but Beverly had put them in the container and several skeptics were wary abut opening 'Pandora's Box'. Eventually a compromise was reached and the whole crew was balloted about wishing to be on the ship when the container was opened. Americans and Britons to a man scorned their admirals' circumspection and gathered expectantly on the flight deck. A close inspection of the container revealed no obvious means of opening it and I stood in front of it like a dummy getting more embarrassed until I remembered the Cold Albatross's door panels. Carefully I studied the skin until I found what I was looking for. An almost invisible hand sized outline that exactly fitted my left hand. It was Beverly's last little reminder to me of her childhood suffering. Throwing caution to the wind I placed my hand upon it and slowly the familiar whispering sound fought with the constant whistling of the flight deck wind. Inside was all the material I was expecting concerning the artificial limbs and additionally some stuff I had never expected. In particular was a perfect miniature replica of The Cold Albatross but without it's primary coils. Cautiously I took it from its case and found a note underneath it. 'Don't try to follow me. It's only got anti-grav and interplanetary drive, Beverly.' I gasped with shock and silently whispered my gratitude to her as tears began to flood down my face. The captain tapped gently on the door and spoke softly. "Is there anything we can do?" I turned to reveal my distress and he hesitated awkwardly, painfully aware of the eyes of his whole crew boring into his back. I ushered him inside then showed him the model and the note. "Does it work?" He asked curiously. "I should think so. It's a model of the Cold Albatross without it's warping coil. I suppose these minor fittings are the anti-grav but I've no idea how it works. There's no way of getting inside it to operate it." I sighed. "If it's model; and it appears to be, there could some sort of radio control box like a model airplane or boat." He suggested. Urgently we scrabbled through the packaging and after a few seconds he held his hand victoriously. Together we inspected the controls and wondered why everything wasn't set at zero. The captain quickly worked that one out. "This Beverly lady must obviously be pretty au-fait with the universe and universal physical laws. It's probably pre-set for absolute zero, so these knobs may be adjusted to compensate for the speed of the ship or the rotation of the Earth." "Or the orbital velocity of the Earth." I added nervously. "That would be tens thousands of miles per hour." He remarked softly. "It seems excessive for a model of this size. Extrapolating your theory it could even be compensating for the Big Bang." We exchanged uncertain glances and shuddered. "We don't know what we're working with here." I cautioned. "Just Remember the Cold Albatross could warp billions of light years in a day or so. You have to destroy all your preconceptions of time and space when dealing with that girl and her science." I had referred to Beverly as a girl and not revealed that she was a transvestite. I was a committed feminist myself and it would suite my feminist beliefs for the male sex to think there was a woman out there who was a million times cleverer than their best scientists. I felt that Beverly would have heartily approved and I owed her that much. The captain resisted the urge to twiddle with the radio control knobs and handed the box back to me with a questioning look. "This Beverly girl has concocted her own hieroglyphics for the knobs and they don't make much sense. I suggest we mark the current positions of all the knobs and adjust one at a time infinitesimally." "That sounds reasonable." I agreed. We both studied the panel and I tried to recall how the Cold Albatross's anti-grav control panel was laid out. Then I remembered Beverly had only used two of the several crude aluminum levers to control the ship when we accompanied the harriers. There were only three little 'finger levers' on the radio box so we agreed that these should be tried first. Fortunately one lever moved back and forth whilst the other lever moved sideways. We felt we were getting somewhere. Cautiously the Captain stood close behind me ready to grab the box if something went wrong. Then I carefully inched the lever forward. The model behaved impeccably and within a few minutes we had it performing miracles inside the tight confines of the container. "So what now?" Asked the British captain. "Who gets anti-grav? Us, or you yanks." "Beverly would want everybody to have it. The whole world, that is." I admonished. "But she's British. She was born in England. Surely that makes it a British invention." I harked back to Beverly's bitter childhood pain and had to bite my tongue at the captain's parochialism. After gathering my thoughts I spoke. "Captain; She doesn't even consider herself to be human anymore let alone British. If this miracle is to take mankind to the planets then it is all of mankind or none. There's a lot more in these other boxes and it's all mine. I did a deal with the amphibians and they have given me some of their medical technology. The 'anti-grav' model is entirely Beverly's idea and I suspect we are being tested. We'd better deal with it philanthropically. I'm on trial here, I'm certain of it. So are you and the rest of humanity. If we get it right, then the human race might get it right and she might even come back. You can bet you're bottom dollar she'll be watching." Uniquely the captain was a military man with a modicum of conscience. He finally concurred and we opened the doors of the container again to a row of worried faces. The situation was explained to the senior officers and contact was swiftly made to the relevant political leaders. After several weeks, agreement was finally reached and the two of us accompanied the model to neutral Switzerland for examination and experimentation. Once we were assured that the model was available for international assessment I paid my last respects to the British captain and returned home to indulge my own interests with the bio-engineering of spare limbs. The work proved easy. Beverly and her amphibian friends had left copious notes and it was an easy task to simply follow the dotted lines. Additionally I also found a virtual lexicon of all the abusers Beverly could remember from her childhood and it made for some disturbing reading. The names read like a 'who's who' of the British establishment. Unfortunately I was so engrossed in my new bio- company that the abuse issue had to be left on the back burner but it was always at the back of my mind. (It was the horror of the maimed hand that did it for me.) Within a year I was well on my way to my fortune. The company I had formed soon proved extremely successful and I was kept extremely busy traveling the world on business. After that first year I was beginning to wear out and I found it necessary to return each weekend to the peace of my remote cottage to recharge my batteries. It was during one of these weekends that I received an unexpected visit from a group of international scientists with a grave concern written all over their faces. The upshot of their problem was that they were getting nowhere with the model of Cold Albatross. Despite the world's leading physicists bending their deepest concentration to the concept of gravity they were no nearer to understanding the principles of the model's drive. As they laid their cards out on the table I began more and more to respect Beverly's intellect. "So why come to me gentlemen. I'm just the messenger. I don't know the first thing about gravity, I'm a biologist." A depressing mood settled on the group until a self appointed spokesman eventually broached their ideas and hopes. "We were hoping perhaps there was some way you might be able to get in touch with your friend and give us some pointers." I shook my head resignedly. "She's gone. She told me she was never coming back. In fact she intimated suicide." A low shocked gasp whispered around the room as they exchanged disappointed glances. The spokesman caught my eye again and frowned. "Why on earth was she suicidal?" I realized that the naval staff had not divulged Beverly's full story and I debated telling the scientists myself. Then I decided there could be little harm. If she was billions of light years away committing suicide then no harm could be done. Anyway it was about time that her guilty tormentors were brought to book- that is if they were still alive after forty odd years. I invited the scientists into the kitchen and made coffee for them all before playing the tapes. They listened with deepening horror as the silence became oppressive. When her tale ended I clicked off the tape. The only part I had erased was her declaring herself to be a transvestite. That was to forever be our little secret and we would take it to our separate graves. "I thought you should have heard that. Now that my company is thriving and the money's rolling in I'm going to devote myself to exposing those bastards. I'm afraid, gentlemen Beverly's going to get her revenge and I'll be her sword. There's nothing I can do about the gravity drive but I can certainly do something to redress the injustices of her childhood." The scientists left and I heard little about them again. My business however, was going from strength to strength whilst I indulged a whim and rooted out the perpetrators of the childhood atrocities. Some had died; some had risen to positions of considerable power whilst others had sunk to become robber barons in the twilight world of the criminal underworld. As my activities gathered momentum, the writs and court orders started to fly back and forth like flocks of birds as judges, doctors, politicians, criminals and powerful industrialists moved heaven and earth to cover their tracks. It was all to no avail however. With the evidence Beverly had left me and that all-powerful tool called money; the corridors of power were soon ringing to the hammer of justice. Within months the government had fallen and my final crowning victory was to stand on the court steps and declare the guilty names to the world's media. Within seconds the news was flashing around the World. My debt to Beverly had been paid. Spacetran Chapter 5. Relieved at last I returned to my cottage for a well-earned rest. It was my old family home and had been in Denby possession almost since the War of Independence. I now only visited my office for three days per week and spent most of my spare time at the cottage wondering if Beverly had finally killed herself. It played on my mind especially when I received more unwelcome visits from the 'rocket scientists' begging me to get in touch with her. They just would not seem to accept that there was no way I could reach her. Unable to help them with their gravity conundrums I started to sink into depression. As the years passed I was missing the stimulation of Beverly and I was accused of having become a recluse by the press. It was during one of my black introspective periods that she reappeared. Late one frozen winter's night I was sitting reading some notes about a new bio-growth process my company was developing. My brain was simply too tired to digest the information and I dropped the pages sleepily on the floor then shuffled to my bedroom. I still lived alone and had now bought much of the land surrounding my cottage so I lived in a sort of splendid isolation. Once in bed I switched off the light to savor the absolute silence of the still winter's night. Even the trees seemed to be stunned by the bitter cold and the snow lay like glowing pewter in the brilliant moonlight. It was a full moon and I couldn't help but wonder if Beverly was lurking behind it. Suddenly there was a soft tapping on my window and I shivered with fear. My primordial fear of rape surfaced and I reached for the automatic machine pistol that I always kept beside the bed. I set the bolt with a comforting, almost deafening 'clack' and crouched down into the darkest corner of the bedroom to await the intrusion. Fortunately my bottle green robe was also dark and I was virtually invisible to any intruder. The soft tapping was repeated but I was not to be tricked. As a multibillionaire I was vulnerable to kidnap and my friend the local sheriff had begged me to get better protected. The machine pistol was my concession to his beseechment. I crouched tighter into the corner and waited as the tapping became louder and more urgent. Then there was a sharp scratching noise and I wondered if some sort of animal was trying to get in. Cautiously I crawled along the floor and slithered up the wall like a cobra preparing to strike. The scratching continued and I suddenly realized it sounded like a diamond on glass. Somebody was trying to cut through the window. This puzzled me. The sound of broken glass would not have been heard beyond the boundaries of my estate so why would a burglar take such pains to be silent. The scratching suddenly stopped and a tinkling of glass followed the last urgent tap. I froze before an admonishing voice rang on the freezing air. "Ruby! Why aren't you bloody answering? It's me Beverly!" I recognized the urgent feminine voice immediately and almost fired the pistol in my excitement. "Beverly!" I shrieked ecstatically. "Go round to the front." I heard her heels clicking on the boardwalk around the house and I almost broke my toe as I stumbled blindly for the switch. Then I had the sense to leave it off and keep the house in darkness. 'If Beverly had arrived in the small hours she obviously wanted to keep her visit secret.' I gathered an extra robe around me before opening the door to a freezing wave of bitter air. I could not fail to recognize her. She was standing in her inevitable winter attire a mini dress, a short fur trimmed coat, seventy-denier glossy tights and thigh length heeled boots. A picture of femininity and apparently she still didn't feel the cold. Flinging my arms around her I tried to drag her inside but she resisted my efforts and turned to indicate with her hand. "We've got company." For a moment I froze but Beverly had lowered her fur-lined hood and revealed her calming smile. The cold moonlight glinted off her hair. "It's OK. You're quite safe. They're our children, yours and mine." For a second I didn't understand her. I didn't have any children. Then my stomach churned. "The amphib-." I gasped. Beverly sensed my nervousness and gently hugged me to her. "Don't be frightened. They're not freaks. D'you want to meet them?" "Are they in the Albatross?" "Where else dear? D'you want to meet them there or shall I invite them here?" I swallowed nervously. This was a real gem! The first proper known alien visit to Earth and some of the aliens were my own children! I decided to invite them into my house. I felt it was their right as my children. "How many are there?" "Twenty." Replied Beverly. "Eighteen girls and two boys. We've each got nine daughters and a son. "What do they look like?" I asked feeling guilty that a mother should not be able to recognize her own children. "Much like you and I. Their amphibian features are essentially internal. They would 'pass' on the street. They enchant Thlom and his colleagues and I think you'll be pleased as well. They're also like us in that they can stand the cold better than amphs. Thlom has come as well and they've got a female amph chaperone." I gasped at this piece of news and Beverly grinned as she expanded. "The chaperone is Thlom's sister but then he's got hundreds of sisters." I remembered their amphibian breeding cycle and dressed hurriedly before stepping out into the freezing night. I didn't recognize the much larger spaceship and Beverly turned before I could ask. "Cold Albatross 3; it's more like a bus than a car. The family's growing." She grinned. The new craft was much bigger and the only recognizable feature was the larger radius warp ring. I wondered what had happened to 'Albatross 2' and I asked Beverly. "She's in Stasis off-world. She's parked behind Pluto to avoid vandalism in case someone has cracked the gravity drive, although we didn't see any ships as we came in. We're a 'two- car' family now." "Who drives Albatross 2 then?" "Only me and Thlom. She fits inside the hold of Cold Albatross 3." Albatross 3 was not hovering like Albatross 2 had done. She was sitting firmly on a set of stout extended legs. Beverly courteously helped me up the steps but it seemed a bit incongruous that a smaller, weaker, more feminine person should be somehow offering me help. Nevertheless I accepted it graciously and we joined the children inside. Beverly had been right. To outward appearances the children resemble humans, indeed I could even see my likeness in each of my own. The only difference outwardly being that they had slightly sallow complexions. A doctor might have thought them slightly jaundiced. Beverly's were all fair-haired whilst mine varied from fair to dark brown with even one redhead. The children gathered round me eager to see their genetic mother and I was overwhelmed with emotion as I tried to hug each and all together. Then I turned to Thlom and their chaperone. "How do your people take to them." "We muddle through and it isn't easy." He confessed. I felt my stomach tighten slightly. "They don't suffer any discrimination do they?" Thlom frowned and spoke softly. "We see them as our future Ruby, not as a threat. Inside they're mostly amphs and our people recognize that. We chose the mammalian human skin type because they can better survive the cold for space travel and colonizing our other worlds. The hair followed naturally." "Will they be able to have babies?" I asked curiously. "They'll lay eggs just as we do but only one or two at a time, just as you do." "What about mothering?" I wondered aloud. "We expect their children to hatch as partially limbed tadpoles then they'll be fed with the nourishment that secrets from those glands you have on your upper abdomen." I squirmed inwardly at his reference to my breasts and I noticed Beverly give a self-conscious twitch. Thlom, ever sensitive, noticed our reactions and smiled. "What would you prefer me to call them?" "Breasts Thlom." I whispered embarrassedly. "We call them breasts." "They're quite important to you aren't they?" He smiled. "Yes." Interrupted Beverly. "Feeding from the breasts is an important part of parent child bonding. They are also very important socially. Like your amphibian neck frill." At this stage the chaperone spoke. She was a leading geneticist and had been a major influence in engineering the children. "It's strange Ruby, but the birth and rearing process is akin to your birds. It seems as if our biological 'halfway house' development is parallel to the historic development of life on your Earth. Birds lay eggs and yet bond to their young and care for them. We studied Earth's birds from wildlife videos that Beverly supplied. It seemed the most practical way to go." "So what sort of 'nest' will you adopt?" "Each family will need a small swimming pool. It'll be as much a part of our houses as a nursery is for you." I smiled then suddenly had a strange thought. "Wait a minute. With birds, both parents share the rearing equally. How will the father's bond to their children?" "Same as the mothers. They will also have glands-, I mean um, breasts to nourish the young." I glanced significantly towards Beverly and raised a suspicious eyebrow. She shrugged and raised her hands in innocence. "Don't look at me. I had nothing to do with it. They reckoned it was the easiest way to go genetically. An easy way to bond the fathers." "But why do they have to bond the fathers. If they come from amphibian herbivorous stock and they've never bonded before why start now?" "We think it's important if we're going to colonize our other planets." Replied Thlom. "There's lots of dangers on those planets and bonding creates a more efficient unit, the family unit. You have a long- standing religious basis stemming from your anthropological roots don't you. What was it again? 'Honour your father and mother.' I caught Beverly staring tensely at the floor and finally realized her claims of innocence must be true. Beverly understood nothing about families and family values except pain and rejection. It was quite obvious that all the genetic anatomical decisions had been based on anthropological and generic factors based on deep studies of both species' histories. So the males would have breasts then. I grinned at Beverly and wagged my head. "Your transvestite wishes have come true then." "How so?" She snapped. "The boys will be able to wear bras and stuff." "You don't get it do you." "What d'you mean?" "They won't be 'cross-dressers' will they. They'll need to wear bras just like the girls. There'll be virtually no sexual dimorphism. Just look at the children now. Can you tell which two are the boys?" Stupidly I gaped at the children and realized there were virtually no telltale signs. Again Thlom seemed to read my thoughts and expanded further. "There won't be much sexual dimorphism when they're adults either. It would take an intimate investigation of their internal primary sex organs to exactly determine their gender." "What about their behavior patterns?" I asked. "Human children often demonstrate their gender by their behavior." "We're not wholly certain about that. We expect them to be as unassertive and passive as we are but there's no absolute certainty that they won't have some human other behavioral characteristics. After all we have striven for human parenting and bonding. Other genetic traits might have spilled over into the test tubes." "I hope you haven't sprung a race of 'killer bees' upon the rest of the universe." I whispered as I studied my children and still wondered which one was the boy. They certainly all seemed to be quite gentle and sociable at the moment. Eventually the one with the red hair squirmed onto my lap and admitted to being the boy. I wondered if the hair might be a gender factor and asked Thlom's sister. "We don't think so. It was just a happy accident. Does red hair run in your family?" I was forced to confess that I had bright red hair but I dyed it a darker russet colour regularly. Genetic engineering could be such a complex subject and it was possible that other factors might have activated a sexual trigger. His hair was certainly a rich dark red and beautifully groomed. Thousands of earth-women would have died for it. He slid happily off my knee and Beverly's blond haired son occupied the vacant space without a single spark of envy or animosity. He was the last one and after cuddling him I stood up to let my damp eyes wander affectionately over Beverly's clan and mine. It seemed there was a behavioral factor for the boys had chosen to be last to share their affections with me and obviously treated their sisters with a gentlemanly concern. I smiled with gratitude for being allowed to have my own family without all the heartache and stress of motherhood. As a lesbian I knew I would have suffered ostracism if I'd had children on earth. Grateful for the fulfillment of a fundamental female urge I invited them into my cottage. Thlom and his chaperone sister agreed and the children chattered excitedly as they scampered into the ship's dormitory and donned their anoraks. As I studied them, they looked like a junior school party on their first school skiing trip. Thlom and Dumia his sister dressed as they had at the breeding ponds and this emphasized the human differences between the amphs and their chosen successors. I felt for the amphs and wondered just how the human race would have reacted to having to alter their whole genetic makeup and interbreed with an alien species. The children shrieked and played in the moonlit snow while Thlom watched them enviously as he huddled from the cold and scuttled with his sister to the warmth of the cottage. Once there we four adults shared a hot drink as the children arrived in dribs and drabs until my overflowing cottage rang to the sound of laughter. "So Bev." I asked. "What brings you back to earth?" "Your children wanted to see their mother; the other genetic half of their origins." "Will you be staying long?" "As long as we dare." "But Thlom and Dumia won't be able to wander about will they?" I remarked feeling guilty for not being able to reciprocate the generosity they had shown me on their world. "They'll take the Albatross 3 back to Pluto because it's too big to hide then they'll return with Albatross 2 and hide it in your barn. Thlom's a good pilot. This cottage is pretty remote so when they return they'll be pretty safe here." The plan sounded sensible. I did not encourage callers to my private hideaway and even the executives of my bio-company avoided contacting me when I was 'up country'. I had cultivated my reputation as a recluse. The plan was for the children to appear as a school party whilst being driven around and shown the sights. I joined in enthusiastically and within two days we were driving a pair of mini-buses towards New York. The trip passed without incident and we returned back to my cottage cock-a-hoop at our success. It was then that I pleaded with Beverly to explain how the anti- gravity drive worked on the model. She explained it and then downloaded the details from her computer. "That's everything. It's the formula for the ceramic compound, the atomic frequencies and how the power source is harmonised. There's everything you'll need and it's all you're going to get. All I ask is that once again you make sure that it goes international." I gave her my promise and she went to bed early leaving Thlom, Dumia and me to organize sleeping arrangements. My cottage was really misnamed for it had several large bedrooms and the children had come well equipped for camping and outdoor activity. They sorted themselves out quickly and before midnight the cottage was silent. Only Thlom, Dumia and I sat up quietly talking genetics and space travel into the small hours. "D'you think Beverly will ever share her time warp secrets with anybody. It would be nice if our two races could meet and get acquainted." I asked Thlom. "She's said she'll leave a time-locked capsule to reveal it all after she's dead." "Where does she store all her secrets?" I asked curiously. "In her head Ruby. It's all in her head." "I'll bet she's got a secret information stash hidden away on some remote planet." "Well if she has, none of us are going to find it are we. We amphs are not interested anyway. It puzzles us that the children were so keen to find their mother and even more intriguing that Beverly's children should want to tag along. They have obviously got a human curiosity about parents and origins. We are only here to act as chaperones. We're not at all interested in space warping and anyway, there are countless millions of planets, orbiting countless billions of stars so the chances of any Earthmen ever finding Beverly's secret information stash are virtually nil. That is even if she had one." Finished Dumia. She was right of course. Beverly's secret would remain safe unless she was good and ready to reveal it. Defeated I crept up to bed and left Thlom and Dumia sleeping in the old granny bedroom downstairs by the old fashioned pot-bellied stove. Once again I heard Beverly whimpering in her room. This time I did not disturb her but left the landing light on and my bedroom door ajar anticipating a nocturnal visit. I was not disappointed. She awoke in the morning startled to find herself in my bed. I felt her tense as she suddenly realized she was curled up inside the curve of my body. "H- how did I get here?" She squeaked nervously." "You sleep walk Bev. You entered my room last night and curled up exactly where you are now. As I spoke I remained perfectly still leaving it for her to decide the next move. She remained tense for nearly a minute before slowly uncurling as our nighties whispered and slithered invitingly against each other. Her soft curves stiffened again as she sensed the tension. "What's happening?" She gulped. "Nothing Bev. Nothing at all." "What d'you mean nothing. I meant what's happening to me? Why am I here?" I was silently puzzled. I had no idea what was happening to Beverly. My lower arm had become stiff under her pillow and I dragged it towards me to relieve the aching. Beverly grabbed it like a kitten seizing a piece of string. "What're you doing?" She whispered hoarsely. "Leave that hand where I can see it!" "I'm getting a cramp in my elbow. I was just easing the muscles." She released my hand and a slowly withdrew it until the aching eased and I was able to rub my arm. As I sighed with relief I stretched my legs and yawned then lay on my back looking at my ceiling. Slowly Beverly uncurled and turned to study me. As she lay resting on one elbow I felt her curious eye's boring into me. "You're quite pretty. Why have you never married?" She whispered. I turned to face her; afraid to admit my sexuality so I shrugged. "Dunno. I was too busy making my way as a science correspondent when I was younger. Brainy girls frighten men off. Then when this bio-company started I never had time for courting." I was too terrified to confess I was gay. She settled with her head deep into the pillow but continued staring at me with the one visible eye. I turned to ask her. "Now what are you looking at?" "You. That colour nightie suites you." I glanced down at the bottle green nightie and shrugged. I had never thought about it before. I had become so preoccupied with science and my bio-company that I had turned into something of a sartorial bombsite. 'Maybe it was a way of giving out clear signals to men.' I thought. I turned to face her and studied her pretty features framed in the soft blond hair. It was an image that any man would have loved to find on his pillow in the morning. She slowly extended a nervous hand and searched for mine before insinuating her delicate fingers. I sensed she was worried about something but I had not an inkling of what it was. I felt at once, both like a mother with a frightened child and a lover with her beau. "What's worrying you?" I ventured cautiously. "Why d'you think I sleep walk?" She asked. "I don't know. D'you do it when you're alone?" "I've no idea. I always wake up in my own bed." "What about when you're with the amphs?" "No. Same thing. I wake up in my own bed." "So it's only around me that you crawl into other people's beds." "It's only the once." She objected. "I beg your pardon Beverly. You did it while we were travelling on the Albatross." "What!" "I said you crawled into my bed when we were space warping. I carried you back to your own bed in the morning so that you wouldn't be shocked." Beverly stared at me with a stunned expression. "Why didn't you tell me?" She demanded. "I was in a pretty tricky situation. I didn't know what to do. Now you're on my patch and you seemed like a frightened child so I left you to sleep. Anyway it's nice sharing a bed and I haven't done it for years." "Nice?" Queried Beverly. "Yes nice. It's nice to just cuddle up and feel another's close company." "D'you think that is what I was trying to do." "I'm not a psychiatrist Bev. With your background there's no knowing what you were trying to do. You're definitely distressed during the dark hours and I must say I'm not surprised. Maybe your subconscious was seeking some sort of comfort, - motherly love or something. As I say, I'm not a shrink." "If I squeeze up to you, you won't try anything will you?" She whined softly. "I'm not stupid Bev. You'd probably bolt out of my embrace like a frightened fawn." I felt her hips gently squeeze up to mine then her soft breasts followed suite and after a minute her whole body was insinuated in a tight embrace that left me roused, puzzled and embarrassed. To find such a beautiful soft feminine companion in my bed was one of my wildest dreams come true. As a lesbian I could not have wished for more. Then I remembered Beverly was actually a man, what was more there was definitely some activity where it mattered. I froze nervously and she released her embrace. "What's wrong?" I nudged her erect organ with my hip and croaked nervously. "That's what's wrong." She separated and turned out of bed to stare guiltily out of the window. I'm sorry. I got carried away. I'll go to my own bedroom." I gaped greedily at the beautiful feminine form framed in the window and swallowed nervously. The temptation was just too much. Gathering courage I whispered hoarsely. "Don't do that. Come back to bed. It was just so unexpected." "I didn't expect that to happen either. I'd better go." "No. Please stay. It's lovely having someone to cuddle up to." I pleaded. The recent years of being a virtual recluse had had their toll and I had found the pleasure of sharing a bed overwhelming. Even if that other woman was in fact a man. Beverly's nervous eyes followed my gaze to her groin and she self-consciously lowered her hands like a naked girl. Silhouetted in the window her beautiful body was clearly outlined through the sheer nightie, what's more the bulge in her panties was painfully apparent. I felt a strange rush of anticipation sweep through my body and reached eagerly across the bed to drag her back under the duvet. She squeaked with fear and struggled briefly before my superior strength overwhelmed her and I pinned her to the bed. Under her nightie her stiffening nipples were like organ stops and I gently brushed them through the flimsy diaphanous fold. She let out a low moan and squirmed lasciviously as I maneuvered my dampening groin over the rock hard lump jammed uncomfortably into the crotch of her panties. "Wait!" She groaned softly as she wriggled her hips until the lump unfolded and straightened up to peep bravely out of the top of her panty waistband. I realized she was all man in that department and savored the exciting novelty of a session with the sort of beautiful woman that a lesbian could only dream of yet sporting a superb erection. Once again she winced as I positioned myself and I hesitated uncertainly. "You're too heavy. Can I go on top." She whimpered. I did a double take for a moment. Normally it was the greedy selfish man that was 'too heavy', and who usually took his pleasure without any consideration for the bruised and crumpled woman beneath him. Now I realized I had reversed the roles exactly. I was being the 'selfish brute'. Apologetically I rolled off her and invited her to reverse the rolls. For a moment Beverly caught her breath then slowly reached across and gently investigated my urgency. I suddenly realized that despite Beverly's horrendous carnal childhood I was dealing with a novice in the art of lovemaking. Rape, yes- lovemaking; no! This girl knew nothing about affection, care or compassion. Gently I took her inquisitive fingers and guided them to the proper places as I slowly tugged her head down and crushed her lips to mine. With softly whispered instructions I led her up the path to my nirvana. As my back arched and I squealed with delight Beverly gaped nervously and cautiously withdrew her fingers like some child who had just been caught with its hand in the honey pot. I gently took her hand again and guided it under my nightie for her to rest it lightly on my breast and feel the thundering heartbeat beneath. For several minutes it lay there as my years of frustration evaporated and my heart eventually subsided to a normal rhythm. "Now it's your turn love." I whispered. Beverly knew what an orgasm was but she had never actually witnessed the full-blown explosive passion of a woman's climax before. She burrowed nervously under my nightie and cautiously rested her head on my breasts as I gently massaged her back and shoulders. Once more it was the frightened child syndrome. Incongruently her penis was still as stiff as iron and, more importantly, well sized. I had anticipated that it might be somehow shrunk in parallel with all the other atrophied male features that her body had long ago shed. Gratefully I gently ran my appreciative fingers down its entire length and she squirmed nervously. "Don't hurt him." She whispered. "Hurt him? Hurt him?" I giggled kittenishly. "Why he's the most delicious dessert I could have wished for. I'm desperate for you to try him and I'd never ever hurt him. He's mine, all mine." Possessively I ran my hand down its hard length and carefully insinuated my leg under Beverly's hips to lever her into the expectant 'vee' of my parted thighs. Her tiny frame rolled easily over my leg and her breasts gently brushed against mine. I felt her rigid nipples scrape gently against mine as we let out mutual gasps of ecstasy as I felt the waves of delight go fluttering to my core. Simultaneously Beverly's penis twitched and she gave a little squeak of nervous delight. I felt her rigid incongruouncy making fruitless attempts to pleasure me so I gently grasped its satisfactory girth and carefully guided it in. I was in complete control and carefully allowed it's rippled length to only enter me bit by tantalizing bit. Beverly started to squeak and whimper with delight. For me it was the ultimate satisfaction of securing a proper guilt free pleasuring with a real penis whilst simultaneously savoring the lesbian delights of another woman's body. Strangely Beverly took a long time to climax and I was able to relish several orgasms before she finally exploded into action. Her unexpected screech of delight caused me to tense suddenly in anticipation of a worried thumping on the door. It was not long coming and Beverly buried herself in a fit of terror as the banging persisted. It was Thlom's nervous concerned call. "Ruby! Are you all right?" "Yes. Go away!" "Beverly's gone!" "What d'you mean gone?" I cursed as Beverly's terrified fingers dug nervously into my breast. "Stoppit! You're hurting." I whispered hoarsely. "She's not in her room!" Yelled Thlom. "It's OK!" I snapped angrily. "She's in here with me. She's alright." "What happened?" "She got frightened last night and came to me for comfort." "Is she OK now?" Pressed Thlom. "Yes she's fine." I replied as I caressed the soft blond hair and winced as I gently levered the terrified fingers off my agonized breast. "It's OK love. They've gone. Nobody is coming through that door." I had realized what Beverly's problem was. Throughout her childhood time in care the sight or sound of a bedroom door being opened was a sure sign that some form of night-time abuse was imminent. This was her hangover from the childhood horrors. It was OK for her to instigate a visit to another bedroom but all through the care years her own bed and room had been nothing less than a torture chamber. Even a soft knock on the bedroom door was enough to send her over the edge. Gently I squeezed her tight to me and was surprised to find a soft pair of lips investigating my nipple. She apparently had a suckling complex when she was afraid. It was hardly surprising considering she had never had a mother. Eventually she 'uncoiled' and appeared from under the duvet. I smiled into her tearstained eyes and gently hugged her to me. "It's OK. You're safe. There's nobody on the other side of that door." Beverly stared at the door with terror in her eyes so I tried some therapy. "D'you want me to open it and leave it open?" "Don't touch it!" She squealed. "I'll open it when I'm ready." I shrugged and clambered back into bed. She immediately snuggled up to me and buried her face into my breasts. I let her indulge her fear and she stayed embedded between my breasts until the smell of cooking wafted through the house. Her head suddenly popped up and she sniffed appreciatively. "That smells like breakfast." "It is, and we should be down there helping." With no more ado Beverly slipped out of bed, flung on a dressing gown and ran helter-skelter down stairs to lend a hand. I was left floundering and puzzled by her volte-face then I realised that perhaps the smell of breakfast was some sort of olfactory 'all-clear' signal. When she was in care it would have been the first definite sign that the safety of morning and daylight had arrived. I crawled downstairs to find her setting out the cereals on the sideboard as the children started appearing. The two boys were dressed but all the girls were still in their nighties and I cast a curious glance towards Dumia. She shrugged and smiled before commenting on it. "The boy's simply rise earlier. It's a gender thing. The girls take much longer to appear. The boys have already been playing out in the snow while the girls are still dopey with sleep. We couldn't predict everything. It's a harmless enough behavioural dimorphism. I expect we'll discover some more as they grow." I shrugged and sat next to Beverly as the boys promptly joined us and started asking questions. The breakfast then quickly developed into a lively question and answer session and my chance to talk to Beverly was lost. I would have plenty of chances however in the nights ahead. With the Albatross 2 safely hidden in the barn we planned a long motoring tour of the U.S.