Thangaiku Theriyaamal Amma Magalai Oothen
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Sergeant Matoi bowed to one knee before Lord Drak as, in the background, several deployed autocranes strained against the weight of ages as the Domain era transport was righted, lifted, moved. The bulk of ten million tons of synthetic metals and composite materials blotted out the smeared circle that was the dominant sun of the Stumble system. Matoi ducked her head forward, and she spoke. “I’m sorry, sire. They had a fast launch shuttle – it hit orbit before we could track it, and they’ve gone completely dark.”
Lord Drak stood – perfectly silent as the shadow grew deeper and thicker. The only sound that seemed to come was the distant roar of the surf, the straining cables, the crack and snap of his cape as it was caught in the wind.
“It was my fault,” she said. “I had a clear shot, I-”
Lord Drak shifted from foot to foot, plastic pebbles creaking under the soles of his boots.
Matoi tensed, as if ready for a blow. It was easy to see – she had eschewed her armor for a tight fitting skinsuit with impact plating. Her head was bared and her blond hair tumbled in the blood-hot breeze, tinged with the taste of shredded plastic and burnt rubber. When the blow she expected didn’t come, she lifted her head, her nose plugs and transparent mouth-filter glinting in the sudden blaze of sunlight that came from around the transport as the cranes began to swing to the left.
“You were facing a Liminal Penitent,” Lord Drak said, his voice a dark rasp beneath his opaque mask. “They can deflect any targeting system in any power suit. You know for next time.” He turned on his heel and began to stride off. “I shall not be so lenient after the next encounter, Sergeant.”
“Yes, my lord,” Matoi hissed, her head ducking low.
Lord Drak did not look back. He focused instead on the press of the helmet against his face, on the tightness of his armor. He focused on the sound of the surf, and on the low rumble as the transport was set down. Engineers from the Victrix were already on the ground, dressed in their bright orange uniforms, holding their equipment: A motley collection of plasma cutters, gravitic winches, crowbars, hammers, sonic drills, and scrapper gel. They would work at the weak points of the transport’s hull, to get at her secure cargo hold.
Lord Drak watched – and frowned behind his helmet as the internal cameras overlaid a glowing blue figure in his field of vision. The blue faded and the figure took on the natural colors of the scene – as if the man was truly standing on the beach, not simply projecting his image to Drak from a mile and a half away. Even his pale white hair was stirred by the wind. The man was tall and muscular, broad shouldered and narrow in the face, with a fearsomely hooked nose and piercing, sky blue eyes. His uniform was sharp, and his sneer was impressive.
“Lord Drak,” Praetor Theodosius said, his voice dripping with scorn. “I hear that you’ve been bested by a little girl.”
Behind his back, Drak’s hands tightened. The cargo hold swung open and engineers cried out to one another. One went running, sprinting really, away as the chunk of hull plating they had wrested free smashed to the ground with a spray of dust and a shower of pebbles. Sitting within the hold, preserved from wind and tide for who knows how many thousands of years, was exactly what Drak had traveled eight hundred jumps to claim. The scrapper’s leader had hoped to distract the Hegemony with the new tech field he had discovered, of the old ramships. But this? This was what had brought the Victrix so far. Contrasting it against the girl, 908-101g, it seemed no prize at all. Like ashes in his mouth.
“She’s irrelevant,” Drak said, his voice growing tight. “A child, trapped on this planet. We have what we came for.”
Theodosius snorted. “What I came for, Lord Drak. Remember that. Bring the cargo to the Victrix and I may omit the fact you allowed a terrorist cell to slip off planet.” He shimmered, then faded away – dissolving first into static, then into a haze of interference patterns, then nothing. Drak’s hands tightened. He heard the creak of the gloves. And deep in his mind, he heard the voice that was not a voice. It hissed and whispered.
His head would look remarkably nice on a pike somewhere.
Drak turned on his heel. “Get that thing into the Victrix,” he snarled. His ship waited for him. The sphere closed around him with a thought and he reclined in the darkness, feeling the interior shift to his body. His hands grabbed at his helmet, and the urge to rip it off became overpowering. His fingers fumbled, questing for the latches, the catches. And for just a few seconds, they refused to give. His fingers strained and he felt his claws, his real claws, coming out, pressing against the inside of the gloves. The gloves were made so that when that pressure hit, they tightened on his fingers. Pain laced through his hands and Drak hissed, then snarled, then screamed – and the mask came apart, whirring and clicking as the machined components compacted and folded themselves. Soon, he was holding a rectangle of metal with only the faintest impresses of a face.
Drak put his hands to his face, forcing down sobs of frustration and agony. The false claws of his cloves – the hideous jokes that they were – rasped along his scalp His shoulders hunched and he felt his ears flatten back against his head as he lifted his hands and glared up into the darkness – the interior lights of his ship whirring on as his mind reached out and touched the magic of the ship. He coaxed the gravitic engines to life and felt it whirring and thrumming with life. The faint pressure of movement came afterwards and he tried to stretch the time out between privacy and having to put the mask on again.
The light, though, brought another torment. The interior of the ship was as reflective as the exterior – and so, with light, he could see his own bare face reflected back. Purple eyes. Black hair. The mutagenic feline ears, emerging from the top of his head, from his black hair. His eyes were rimmed with purple circles, and his skin looked greasy with sweat. His lip curled.
Drak Thale, Sub-Lord of the Hegemonic Penitents, sprawled in his chair and hated himself more and more with every second.
Praetor Theodosius preening was nearly as insufferable as Praetor Theodosius sullen, Praetor Theodosius in a temper, or Praetor Theodosius in a paternal mood. He walked along the vast gantry bay of the port cargo hold on the Victrix, parading himself before an entire regiment of shocktroopers standing at attention, and simply radiated lethal levels of smug. Drak stood beside him, impassive. Once more, constrained by his hateful mask. The Praetor stepped forward, then reverently laid his hand along the side of the cargo.
“Can you imagine it, Lord Drak?” Theodosius whispered. “It’s exactly as the programmer-archaeologists described.”
What they had described – and what now was contained within the Victrix’s cargo holds – was a fifteen meter by fifteen meter cube of matte black material that refused easy classification. Every scanner built into his mask balked when asked to even scan it. Visual light told him where it was less by reflecting and more by simply being utterly absorbed. It made the box blacker than black, and simply looking at it would have been unnerving, if Drak hadn’t been far used to being unnerved than most people. But he could tell the shocktroopers were getting restless looking at the thing.
“The Quantum Forge,” Theodosius crooned. “With this, all of human space will be the Emperor’s – something your order of pathetic sorcerers has yet to accomplish.” He turned to Drak, his eyes narrowing. Drak bristled. Ever since he had set foot on the Victrix, he had known that Theodosius had been made aware of his ... condition.
And Theodosius had nearly a year to grind that awareness into Drak’s spine. Meals being delivered to his chambers cold or simply cooked imperfectly – meat left red and rubbery in the middle, overcooked at the edges, rice that nearly broke his teeth when he chewed on it. Snubs for official functions every time that they stopped by a link in the Chain to show the Hegemonic flag, veiled and overt insults during the briefings and conferences. And he had born it all, born it because Theodosius had rank and Drak labored under his condition ... but today?
Today he was done.
Drak’s voice came out low and husky: “Do not be so proud of this technological miracle you’ve uncovered. The abilities of the Forge are as nothing without the powers of a Liminal Knight. My powers.” He lifted a single hand – and the entire Forge began to glow from within. A rainbow of luminescence flowed from the deepest core of the object, etching out lines of iridescence throughout the cube, making it seem as if another, slowly rotating cube was trapped within it. As the glow pulsed outwards, a low thrumming sound began to fill the whole cargo bay.
Drak let his hand drop as Theodosius goggled at the cube, at him. Once his hand was by his hip, the cube faded back to a midnight black. Drak turned on his heel and stalked off. He spoke over his shoulder. “I shall retire to my chambers, Praetor. If you do not need me.”
He let that last bit hang in the air – and the Praetor clenched his jaw and glared after him. The last thing that Drak heard before the doors shut was the order: Get the Forge working immediately.
The Victrix Imperita had been commissioned by the first Emperor, Daniel Haram Nebuchadnezzar I. It had taken two centuries to construct in the orbital facilities of Eudemonia, crafted by hand rather than via mana. It would have been infinitely faster to use the vast rivers of mana on Eudemonia, but Nebuchadnezzar had wanted a ship that would be immune to the machinations of the Liminal Knights – that had been in the days before the creation of the Hegemonic Penitents and their vast replica temple, built to exactly mimic the AI temple on Home. And so, the people of Eudemonia had hand-crafted every part of the ship, painstakingly recreating the machinery of the ancient past, but without the ghostly touch of the Machines lurking in her bones. They had needed to make do with alternatives for dozens of minute control systems, and the result of their makeshifts could be seen through every corridor in the hissing, squealing pneumatic cables, the redundant bulkheads, the grainy screens that projected in monochrome and in the constant, pervasive scent of oil and ozone. Machine oil, worked into every single crack and cranny, smoothing everything out. Ozone, from the imperfectly insulated, imperfectly copied gravitic superconducting plate.
Drak hated the ship. After nearly ten years in the Liminal Temple on Eudemonia, being on the Victrix felt like being sliced out of the flowing currents of magic that he had grown so used to. The only whiff he felt of it came from the insulated control systems of the shocktrooper’s power armor and the faint thrum of his own mask’s optics. And, of course, from his own ship ... and his own chambers.
The tall, triangular shaped pressure door leading to his sanctum hissed with steam as it lowered into the floor. The two guards on duty by the door snapped to attention. “Sire,” one said. “You have a message from EDC. From Prince Adams.”
“You ... Private Glickson,” Drak said, his voice a low hiss. “You ... checked my ... private correspondence?”
Glickson and his counterpart exchanged a glance, their sudden worry clear despite the goggles covering their eyes and the smooth face-plate of their shocktroop armor.
“You are both dismissed,” Drak growled, his hand clenching. Pain stabbed through him as his claws attempted to sprout and his glove reacted as it had been programmed – clenching on his fingers. Trying to train him out of the reflex through agony.
“Sir, we-” Glickson started.
Drak spun to face them. His threshold blade leaped to his hand and the monomolecular edge exploded from the hilt with a roar of split air. The holographic guiding light that indicated where the edge was – normally, the blade was invisible to human eyes – flared into existence and turned his chosen color of brilliant gold.
“Leave!” He bellowed. “Now!”
The two shocktroopers saluted, then sprinted as fast as they could down the corridor. Once he was in the room, Drak grabbed his mask and tore. It whirred and clicked as it came off his face – in his sanctum, it was programmed to come off easily. He threw it to the floor, gripped the handle of his threshold blade and formatted it into a sledgehammer. The nanites did their work with such speed and efficency that the friction of their movement and the kinetic energy of their industry washed his face with heat. He brought the sledgehammer down into the mask. It bounced into the air, cracked in half. He brought his hammer down again and again and again, until the mask was nothing but obsidian black shards.
Drak bit down onto his glove and tore it off his hand with a jerk of his head. His freed claws dug into the other glove and he ripped it off. His claws ached, and his fingers trembled from the remembered pressure from the gloves. Drak wriggled, shoved, and got his tail free. It lashed from side to side as he reached out with his mind. Coaxing the hard-light projectors into life was one of the trickier cantrips he had been taught by Supreme Lord Vorsoth. The projectors in the room were low quality and cracked, but he didn’t need much.
The image of Theodosius, carved out of light and minute quantum-pixels, appeared before Drak’s eyes. He leaped onto him, his legs sending him rocketing right at the smug bastard’s face. Unfortunately, the simulacrum had no animating intelligence. There was no widening of the eyes. No shocked expression. No cries of pain or f ear as Drak’s claws bit into his throat and tore with a savage twist. Drak panted, softly, looking down at the crackling, geometric patterns that his claws had torn into the blue-white shape under him.
It was never satisfying enough.
-Kill him. Feel his blood on your claws-
The thought pinged into Drak’s head without actually forming in his own mind. A cold, sharp stick, thrust into his skull from beyond. He tossed his head, like he was trying to get his hair out of his eye, and panted as he stood up. The image turned into a cloud of glittering sparks – the blue white motes dancing, almost like ancient Terran fireflies. He walked through the cloud and into his sanctum’s bedroom. Since sundivers were, by their nature, large ... and worldkillers were larger still to fit the Hegemony’s strategy of utter dominance through obscene overcompensation, Drak’s sanctum was closer to an entire apartment suite. The central chamber was a circular room with a large reflecting pool set into the floor, the seven stars of the Hegemony done in glittering gemstones under the water. Branching off of it, like the limbs of a tree, were rooms leading to his training room, his armor, his communications room, and his bedroom.
Drak considered leaving the message from Prince Adam for later.
But...
No.
He sighed. “Lets get this out of the way.”
When Lord Drak stepped into the communication room, he was Thale once more. His ears were out and up and his tail twitched languidly through the air. He had stripped off his gambeson and was left in his leggings and the undershirt, which had been torn several times during his trip down the Chain. He’d never gotten around to fixing them. He leaped into the central chair of the communications room and sprawled, hooking his legs over one armrest and letting his back curl up against the other. His arm dangled, low to the ground, and he twirled his threshold blade’s hilt through his fingers, spinning it around and around and around. The blunt base made a low, grinding sound as it rasped against the metal deck plating.
Thale twitched a finger. The communication grid booted up and a feminine voice asked: “You have ... one new message from Eudemonia Defense Command. Message is in text from ... Prince Adoran Adams of Elthas. Do you wish the message to be projected or simmed?”
Thale sighed. “Simmed.”
Thanks to Adams’ own training in the arts of the Machine, his personality and mannerisms were more deeply etched and encoded into most comptech than their actual encryption rituals. The comptech that was laced through the projection system could do a better job of faking being Prince Adoran Adams of Elthas. Gods, did he have to sign it with his full title every single time he squirted a message down the Chain? Thale shook his head, while the comptech crunched the numbers, worked up a simulation, and activated the projection suite.
Unlike the hard-light projectors, these were more commercial tech, the kind used in billions of Hegemony homes to bring in excitement and adventure between their shifts in the techfabbers. The projection of Adoran was achingly perfect: From his dumb blond hair to his gormless perfect smile to his bright blue eyes to the broadness of his shoulder to his tight fitting and yet utterly hideous pink tunic and skintight white shirt. He was simmed like he was seated on the console in that way he always sat on Thale’s desk: Legs kicked out, teasing, hands set to either side to show off his chiseled physique. Did he have to show off his eight pack every goddamn time? Thale hissed softly as the simmed message remained paused for a moment, the comptech adding in tiny details it remembered. A mole there, right where his neck and his neckline met. Right where Thale like to nibble. A faint twinkle to those blue, blue eyes. A drumming pattern from the right hand.
“Dear Thale,” Adoran’s husky contralto – countertenor – voice filled Thale’s ears. “We all miss you here in the temple. Enriquah gotten this new trick with her hair, it’s insane.” He laughed, shaking his head. “She’s coated every follicle with a nanite mesh that she grew out over, like, three weeks. Then, gods know how, she figured out how to get the nanite mesh to, like...” He interlaced his fingers. “Flex. Twist. So, she can whip her hair like they’re snakes. She claims she can use it to climb around too, but we’ve been finding whole chunks of it wrapped around ceiling girders. I think she’s trying and its ripping out.” He winced, hissing. “Ouch, right?”
Thale snorted. “Quah is still crazier than a basket-full of irradiated snakes, I see...” he muttered.
The simmed Adoran laughed. Thale felt his heart clench. His claws dug into the upholstery of his chair. He was tempted to get the rest of the message printed in text, but Adoran continued talking before he could order the comptech to banish the holographic phantom. “Lord Vorsoth came back from another one of his missions up the Chain. I think that they’re really going to try attacking Castle.” He shook his head. “I don’t get why, Castle’s ... well, it’s Castle.” He sighed. “But I hope that you’re safe out there.”
He paused. “We all miss you.” His eyes flicked down. His voice became somber. “Stay safe, Thale.”
And then Adoran did as Adoran always fucking did. He pursed his lips, his eyes closed, and leaned forward. The comptech knew Adoran did that when he sent a holo. And for all Thale knew, Adoran had signed the text message with “hugs and kisses”, the fucking dork. And the comptech did as it had been commanded. It simmed Adoran. Right down to refusing to back down once a kiss was offered. Thale grumbled. He looked over his shoulder, at the empty Sanctum. He looked back at Adoran.
Thale scowled.
The simmed Adoran waited.
“Fucking...” Thale stood, his cheeks burning, then leaned in. The kiss was phantasmal – a faint tingle against his lips. Then nothing. When he opened his eyes, Adoran was gone.
Thale was a Sub-Lord of the Liminal Knights. He had bested men in battle. He had flown his ship in combat. He was a master of an ancient magic.
He flung himself into the throne, curled up, and burst into tears.
Thale had been here before. His eyes were unfocused for a moment – seeing only the hazy light of greens and blues and gold. He floated in that unfocused moment, letting the reality of the moment come only once it needed to. His eyes blinked once and he saw that he was standing in a forest glad. His bare feet pressed into the grass and his nose flared as he breathed in the deep, rich scents of this place. The smell of the grass. The smell of the water, rich in the air. The smell of the bark, rough and raspy and thick with cinnamon. Then his ears twitched, bringing in the sounds of the forest. The wind in the leaves, the rustle of the brush. The cheerful babbling of the brook.
Thale grinned and started forward, feeling his sleek body move to his command – and reveling in his nakedness. His freedom.
This place had been his for years. Ever since the powers of a Liminal Knight had called to him, he had been able to come here – to the sanctum within a sanctum. It took a certain amount of effort most of the time, but there were occasions where his mind fled here during sleep, crawling in and curling up to escape from the pain of the outside world. He had no idea which planet the forest, the brook, the pool was based on. It might have been Home. It might have been a thousand others that humanity had found and used magic on to tame and shape into a replica of their long beloved homeworld.
Personally, Thale didn’t really care where it was.
It was his.
He came to the water and crooned at the sight of it. He leaped up and landed in the pool, his body sending up a wave of pale blue water. It was shockingly cold, but his body adapted faster than it would have in the real world. Soon, the water felt like bliss, and he cupped his hands to splash it into his face, blinking away grit and tears. He stepped backwards and stood beneath the tumbling waterfall that poured over the lip of the grotto’s back. The water cascaded along his spine and he let out a gasp of pure pleasure. His eyes closed and he stepped forward, his hands rubbing along the many scars that crossed his body.
Old training mementos. Reminders of the Emperor’s disfavor. His fingers paused in their question – and his eyes opened.
And then he saw the girl.
She was naked, like him, though her body was half hidden by a tree that she clung to and hid partially behind. But her eyes were focused on him like a pair of lasers – and they were as deep and rich as the bark she stood beside. Brown, but laced through with tiny flecks of gold. Fatty deposits had no right looking so utterly enchanting. Her hair was chestnut brown and unruly, tumbling along her skinny shoulders like the waterfall behind him, coming to frayed tips. Her face was narrow and angular, like she’d missed a few meals and had been tanned to a warm hazel. That fact didn’t hide the constellation of freckles that started at her cheek bones and swept out and down like the wings of a star phoenix. The tiny dots continued along her shoulders, then swirled in intricate chaos along the modest swell of her breasts, fading out only to return with a vengeance around her belly button and her skinny, bony thighs. She had an unruly tuft of pubic hair nestled between her legs, which themselves were sleek. Athletic. Her feet were rough and hard used – and yet the urge to caress them tingled along Thale’s lips.
The girl gaped at him. Then she and he moved – his hand clapped over his groin. She ducked her entire body against the tree, concealing herself as best she could. What skin she showed had turned from hazel brown to crimson red.
When she blushed ... she blushed.
“H ... Hey,” she said. Her voice sounded like honey. Thale’s heart leaped into his throat. He gulped it back down. She bit her lip. The dimpling made Thale’s fingers tighten into near fists. He wracked his brain for something, anything, to say.
“Hey,” he said. The girl smiled, shyly as Thale kicked himself for that genius bit of dialog. “H-How’d you get here?” He asked. He didn’t want it there, but a tiny note of possessiveness crept into his tone.
“I don’t know,” she said, her voice sharp. She turned her back, her head vanishing behind the tree. But her voice floated out. “What’s your name?”
Thale could picture her on the other side of the tree. His member grew harder and harder, his tail twitched from side to side. He wanted to go there. To the tree. To tug her out and interrogate her. How had she gotten here? To his sanctum? She had to be a Liminal Knight. But ... no Liminal Knight could be here unless ... unless ... his brow furrowed. He shook his head, slightly, and realized she was waiting for a name. Immediately, the first thing that came to his lips, was...
“Thale,” he said. The name he used only among the people who knew the real him. Stupid. Stupid! If she had been from any Hegemonic world, she’d have known Lord Drak’s name. Hells, she might have even been a fan. He shook his head. “You?”
“Venn,” she said.
Thale’s eyes widened. That wasn’t a Hegemonic name. At least, not one he recognized. But it sounded ... good. He smiled. “Venn.” He tasted the word on his tongue. “I like it.” His stomach roiled and he felt a flare of panic. Had that been ... did she-
“Thale is nice too,” she said and Thale felt an absurd urge to dance for joy. But before he could speak, before he could do a thing, his shoulder jerked to the side. He snapped his head to the left, and realized someone was shaking his physical body.
“I have to go,” he said, his voice tight.
“Thale, wait, I-” she started.
But Thale’s eyes opened. He groaned and sat up, his back stretching as he saw a hard-light servitor hovering beside him. It was a simple geometric shape, easily rendered by the projectors and easily simulated by the comptech. It had shaken him with a pincer claw, a claw it retracted back into its polygonal body. That clipped feminine voice used by every piece of equipment that had a simmed voice spoke: “Lord Drak, you are summoned by Chief Engineer and Programmer Archaeologist Ho.”
Thale rubbed at his eyes. “Tell him I’ll be there in thirty minutes.”
“Yes, Lord Drak.”
The servitor fuzzed away and Thale stretched. His spine popped and cracked and he prowled to his bed with a quiet snarl. That girl. That Venn. He wanted her. He wanted her with a fierceness that went beyond logic, beyond rationality. It was a gut deep instinct, like a fish hook in his guts, tugging up towards his throat. He came to his bedroom and flung himself down, knees first, onto his bed. Black silken sheets rumpled under his weight and he panted as he looked down as his achingly hard member. Pale. Immense. His hand gripped his base, his fingers not touching his palm as he closed his eyes. He hated his cock – it was ... unsightly.
The Hegemony’s beauty lines trended towards petite – the efficient body. In most of the neuvo-plays, if a man had a bulge, it was because he was a brute. An idiot. An animal. A disgusting animal. Thale clenched his jaw, pressure growing as he pumped his cock, viciously hard. His eyes closed and he pictured that freckled body under him, imagined spreading her legs, imagined hilting himself inside of her, imagined her back arching, her sex clenching. His hand squeezed his base and he let out a low, hissing sound. His tail lashed and he leaned forward, his palm pressing to the silk. Claws snicked from his free hand’s fingertips and dug into the cloth.
“Fuck!” He growled, his hips twitching as if he was slamming into her. His balls bumped his own knuckles and he threw his head back, growling. “Fucking yes!”
The pressure mounted. Burst.
His balls clenched and Thale tried to roar, like he really was one of the great cats. The sound came out as a pathetic, emasculating yowl. His body trembled and his back arched as his cum spurted into the bed. Thick strands spilled outwards in an elegant, spreading pattern that almost reached the pillows. His claws rasped through more of the silk as he bent forward, resting his forehead at the very apex of his splash. His eyes closed and he breathed in his warm musk, the salty buzz of his spunk burning down his nose as his tail twitched. He was posed as if he was ready for Adoran, like this. But he wasn’t thinking of Adoran, now was he.
Thale whispered. “Venn...”
He shook his head. He left the sheets for the cleaning servitor and walked, naked, to the showers. He let cold water run down his spine and thought, for just a moment: Adoran never arrived in my dreams, did he?
He took his time showering. But when he emerged, his uniform was waiting. He slid the gambeson on. He tugged on his gloves with mute resignation, curling his lip at the false claws. And then, walking to the front doors, he came to where he had smashed his mask. And there, laying on a slightly dinged and dented part of the floor plating, was his mask – utterly undamaged. Thale reached down and grabbed the mask. He looked at the blank face of it, then turned it around. He pressed it to his face – and, as always, putting it on was never when he started to want to tear it off. That feeling always came creeping in the longer and longer he wore it. Thale closed his eyes as the mask extended, locked into place, and his hand brushed his cape out.
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edited by Master Ken Wednesday, September 4th, 2013 "Hi, I am Miss Blythe," I said to my class, writing my name on the whiteboard with a red dry-erase marker. "I will be your World History teacher." It was the first day of the new school year and, as I launched into the course syllabus, my thoughts kept drifting to that day in June at the end of the last term, when my Living God, the Holy Mark Glassner, walked into this very classroom and changed my very outlook on life. I didn't know...
The the wind howled around the quayside as I stepped onto terra firma for the first time in weeks, the wind threw sharp shards of ice to sting our faces as we looked up at the sails as they were finally furled and stowed as our captain grinned at our discomfiture, "Au revoir!" he joked as if he knew we should soon be recalled. Those such as were left, and we were few enough, I shuddered. My best uniform packed securely in my Valise, awaited me, and just a few more duties before I...
As he approached one of the hall's long mirrors he stopped to inspect himself. It was a familiar sight, the flowing, billowy French maid outfit surrounding his body. His arms and legs were outlined in silky, white stockings and arm-gloves. He wore pearl earrings and the lacy white collar around his neck was adorned with a beautiful pendant. It was a gift from mother that he wore every day, without fail. Jon's painted red lips and neatly applied eyeliner and blush were evidence that he was...
PREFACE:There are no sex acts in the story but the patient does have an orgasm as a result of the Ther****t’s physical examination. Part 1 is the Sex Therapy appointment from the patient’s point of view and part 2 is the same examination seen through the eyes of the Ther****t. I don’t think it matters which one you read first.I hope you enjoy it and will let me know what you think in any...
Katherine stepped into her elegant living room and took a book from the shelf. She sat in a plush lounge chair, specifically selecting a chair in the back corner of the room next to an old dumbwaiter that was once used to ferry delicious meals from the downstairs kitchen to the dining room table. She planned to read the book for a short while, but she already knew her attention would soon be diverted. Tonight the dumbwaiter would once again be placed into service, except this time it would be...
Do you know of the porn site Motherless.com? You should. I’ve reviewed it a few times on my site, The Porn Dude, although it was for different genres every time. This time around, I’m going back to this place and looking at a specific and niche little category many of you are just begging me to cover. We’re looking at vintage porn today. While it doesn’t have the same resolution and quality as the porn you can find today, it’s definitely a genre of porn that has a lot of personality to it and...
Vintage Porn SitesI should have known better. I should have remembered that old saying, "If it looks too good to be true, it is." I was in love. She was damned near all I thought about with the exception of my studies and it didn't make sense to me. I prided myself on my intellect and my ability to think logically, but there wasn't anything logical about the way I felt about Althea. She was beautiful, smart and very popular and I was not. I wasn't a bed looking guy, but I was nothing exceptional. I was...
Motherless. A one-word website title that says everything it needs to say. This is a site where the rules are, more or less, completely thrown out the window, morality means absolutely nothing, and there is nobody to save you from it. Hedonism is God here.The site likely is also called this due to the fact that the girls who end up on motherless.com likely have no positive female influence in their lives to keep them from it. Motherless is the place parents spend their whole lives fearing that...
Porn Pictures SitesI always considered Motherless the “4chan” of porn. Not only because Motherless was somewhat popularized there, but because Motherless also encourages users to share their own content in a very open way. This means minimal bullshit like moderation and censorship, and a strong “anything goes” attitude that leads to free and extreme content. It encourages people to create and upload their own homegrown content, like videos of their girlfriend pissing or spycam videos of their cousin....
Amateur Porn SitesWhat is it about Motherless that makes me fucking cum every time? Maybe it is how raw and amateur the porn on the site comes across as, or the content is just that fucking hot. Perhaps it is the fact that there is an astronomical amount of pornography just waiting for a dumb fuck like you to beat off to! I really don’t know, and frankly, I’m not going to pretend that I do.But what I do know is that if you love BBWs, the Motherless.com homepage will not be of much use! Preferably, head on over...
BBW Porn SitesHave you ever heard about a website called Motherless? Home to all kinds of kinky porn niches, with a side of the mainstream crap? If you are into some questionable fap content, you might want to check this website out. Plus, Motherless is a free porn website, so you can browse as much as you fucking want. Now, I am not really here to talk about the website in general… I am here to tell you about their amazing category, called voyeur porn.The world of voyeur fucking is a rather interesting one....
Voyeur Porn SitesClothesline[This story is part of the Leather in Lawnville series.] Clothesline By DuskPetersonYou can tell a lot about a guy from where he shops. Take my friends, who have specialized tastes. Some of them spend their time at the hardware store, while others take an interest in our town's fabric shop, which has needles and pins that make them drool. Still others hang out at the department store, eyeing the cutlery collection. Somehow all of us end up rubbing shoulders at the town's jacket...
The Five Kingdoms of Arstoria had been embroiled in the Great Ancient War for centuries. The war came to an end when Kalace, the Wizard King conquered the five lands and brought them under his rule. Kalace, the Wizard King of Arstoria, conquered all of his opponents who were unable to deal with his overpowering magic. When Kalace had united the five kingdoms, he brought peace to the warring kingdoms and was revered and celebrated by his later generation. Kalace, however, had a dark weakness in...
FantasyWoah, did Motherless.com get a facelift? I know I suggested it in my review, so I guess they listened to me! Well, I’m not going to brag too much about it, and instead, I’m going to focus on what I’ve set out to bring you today. We’re looking at an amateur website, and I just know that many of you are begging for amateur creampie content, so that’s what we’re looking at. I know how much you think Motherless can look sickening and pretty gruesome at times, but the creampie content can be quite...
Creampie Porn SitesNo matter what type of porn you may be in the market for, Motherless has an ample supply of it, and cucking is no different. Actually, this might help to explain how you ended up being such a pussy little cuck.The journey that brought you to my website reading cuck porn reviews started in your childhood. A fair portion of my readership is actually motherless. Why, you ask? Your guys' moms chose a life of cucking and riding cock instead of raising you fucks properly.Don't worry, gents. I'm in...
Cuckold Porn SitesI browsed the horror stash at Motherless all morning, and now I don’t know if I should jack off or go hide in the closet until the danger has passed. Then again, hiding out might give me the perfect opportunity to rub one out in the peace and safety of the dark. Who knows who—or what—might be peeping in the windows with nefarious intent if I sit at my desk and shake my dick at the screen. Just like when I masturbate at the local Starbucks, I’ve got to be sure to balance the potential pleasure...
Extreme Porn WebsitesIncest porn has been a staple of pornography since the very first incel caveman realized that he couldn’t find fresh pussy out and about. He resorted to sniffing a whiff of his mother’s loincloth when she wasn’t looking, and beating his old cave meat into a leather sock.Now personally I’m not into the whole mommy-son dynamic – I’m a classy guy. But it’s no secret people like to get freaky when the lights go out, and if you’ve got a stiffy in your hand and you’re on Motherless, you gotta go...
Incest Porn SitesHi friends, indru tamil kama kathaiyil en sontha thangaiyai epadi oothen endra kudumba tamil kama kathaiyai ungal idam pagirugiren. Vaarungal tamil kama kathaikul selalam, en peyar prathap vayathu 28 aagugirathu. Enaku oru thangi irukiraal aval peyar mala vayathu 26 aagugirathu, avaluku innum thirumanam seiya vilai Avaluku thirumanam seithu vaikum alavirku engal idam ipozhuthu panam ilai, loan apply seithu atharkaaga kathukondu irukirom. Naan oru kama veriyan eppozhuthu pen kidaikum avargalai...
My name is Rebecca. Everyone calls me Becca. I entered the police department right out of college. I progressed rapidly, through different divisions and assignments. I always had my eyes set on Robbery-Homicide and after six years of hard word and dedication, I finally made it. At age thirty, I was youngest female in the division for such a coveted assignment, but I was superb at my job. I made it because of my skill not my gender. It was Saturday. Dispatch called our number just after we had...
TabooThanks to my usual cast and crew of Editors and Advance Readers, most of whom prefer to pretend that they don’t know me and wisely wish to take no responsibility for any part of my addled writings... Il n’est rien de réel que le rêve et l’amour - Nothing is real but dreams and love (from Le Coeur innombrable, IV, Chanson du temps opportun by Anna de Noailles) She was my one true mistress and ever faithful lover, my Green Lady and guardian of my dreams and now that I was back home...
Hi friends, indru kathaiyil en nanbanai kathal seithu emathiriya pennai ootha kathaiyai ungal idam pagirugiren. En tamil kathaiyai inaiya thalathil pathivu seithatharku nandri, en peyar pradeep vayathu 21 aagugirathu. En nanbanai oru pen kathal seithu matter mudinthathum kayati vitu vitaal, athanaal naan avalai usar seithu hardcore seiyanum endru mudithu seithen. En nanban enaku nanban endru kanbithukolamal aval idam muthal muthalil pesi pazhaga aarambithen. Aval pathini pola en idam nadika...
Hi friends, indru tamil kama kathaiyil en kanavanuku theriyamal ilamaiyaana kaal kathalanai eppadi love seithen endra kathaiyai ungal idam pagirugiren. Vaarungal tamil kama kathaikul selalam, enathu peyar jaya vayathu 36 agugirathu. Enaku thirumanam aagi oru paiyan irukiraan pinbu en kanavanuku vayathu 42 agugirathu. Naan santhoshamaaga thaan vaazhnthu vanthukondu irunthen, naan oru teacheraaga velai paarthu varugiren. Naan velai seiyum classku arugil oru veedu irukirathu, antha veetil oru...
My name is Anthony and I am twenty-two years old. I have extra-long dark hair and darker eyes. I tie my hair into a ponytail and have a close trimmed beard. I look handsome and enjoy keeping myself in shape. I am a lucky guy as I have a very sexy girlfriend who is two years older than me. Zoe and I met at a mutual friend’s party and hit it off right away. She has short blonde hair and blue eyes. Her small beautiful mouth sits beneath a cute button nose. All in all, Zoe is a goddess and I love...
CrossdressingHi friends, indru sex kathaiyil auntyai usar seithu eppadi matter adithen enbathai ungalidam pagirugiren. En peyar Seenu. Vayathu 21 aagugirathu. Naan ithu naal varai entha penaiyum sex seithathu kidaiyaathu. Naan engineering padithu varugiren, enathu nanbargal oru naal theaterku ennai azhaithaargal. Naangal neraga bar seithu saraku adithom, appozhuthu bagubali padam oodi kondu irunthathu. Naangal oru gramathil irukum theaterku sendru irunthom. Angu pothuvaga pengal athigam vara matargal,...
When the car with Jake in it became a dot on the horizon, Thea turned to go back in the house. Suddenly Floyd appeared. “Mrs. Thea, how you be?” Smiling, she knew immediately what he wanted. He had that look and a glance at his crotch confirmed it. The imprint of his cock was prominent as it pushed against the material. “Looks like everyone is gone.” Floyd said. His eyes looking out over the farm. “Yes, I am by myself for at least the next few days.” She replied in an...
“Well, hell,” Thea said as she wiped the beads of perspiration from her face. “I guess ‘spring’ is here, huh?” “Yeah. It’s supposed to be cooler at higher elevation,” I replied. We took a few minutes in the shade by the rocks before rejoining our boyfriends. The four of us had driven up into the pass to hike. According to the weather report, the last coolness of a fading winter was supposed to continue through mid-week, but they were wrong. Actually, from our view from Eagle Point, where we’d...
Motherless.com! What an original name for a porn site, don't you think? The title doesn't fuck around: your mother would never allow you to watch the kind of filth they’ve got on tap. They pride themselves on being a moral-free zone for sick fucks, where you can find damn near anything. I’m talking about desperate chicks fucking anything that resembles a dick and crazy bitches literally eating shit. When you’re done fapping to the weird vids, you can even find "normal" porno to pass the time....
Free Porn Tube SitesAh, motherless, here we are again. A site known for offering such a variety, that no matter how fucked up your needs are, there is a high chance that you will fulfill them here. However, I am not here to blab about the site in general; I am here to talk about one particular category, interracial. As for those who want to know more about the site, there is a whole different review on my website instead.As for those who came here to learn more about that interracial lovemaking, I got your back....
Interracial Porn SitesTherese looked at the scene before her. Her father and brother naked, her grandfather’s cock sticking out of his trousers and her grandmother eating her mother’s cunt, both of us naked. Beth with the camera, filming. “God, the slut is only in the door and she’s gone sex mad.” she said referring to me. She went and sat on the arm of her father’s chair putting her arm around him and kissing him on the cheek. My father was now hard again. He pushed my mother out of the way and started to fuck me...
Three months later, the sound of laughter made Thea Barton look up. The now twenty year -old blond-headed beauty was in the living room reading when she heard it. Recognizing the voice of Uncle Dan, she smiled as she waited to see whom he was going to be with. When the laughter grew louder, she smiled. Ah, yes! It was Irene, her now very good friend! Uncle Dan seemed to prefer her to the others. Her being married seemed to make no difference to all concerned parties. Thea smiled to herself,...
This week’s show begins with that same old rusty bedstead, and that same old dirty mattress. Pausing to take in the magnificent filthiness of it, then pulling back to reveal the bare concrete floor around it, and to take in the harsh lighting. And then we hear our guest of the week approaching, quick little footsteps ... Light clicks on the studio floor. We pan round to see what we’ve got this week and see a slight, pale, small-boobed lady walking in quick, short strides ... She’s not is a...
Hi, guys. It’s been a long time on ISS. I was away from the city. I hope you did like my other two stories(true incidents) which I had written. This is the next encounter I had with my aunt who was all alone and needed a little love for her. Her name is Bethesda and lived her whole life alone after her husband married another woman. I do have a lust for her and want her so badly. She is 45 years old and looks bomb. She got a good voluptuous body and looks like a brunette. As for me, I’m six...
IncestMy name is Anthony; I am twenty-two years old and live with my beautiful girlfriend Zoe. As you have read I have dark hair and dark eyes and I am clean shaven. Zoe is older than I am by a couple of years and is the driving force of our relationship. I am what many call a cross-dresser: a guy that gets great sexual satisfaction from dressing in women’s clothing.Of course, my girlfriend knows all about my cross-dressing. In fact, she encourages me to cross-dress. Once a week, generally on a...
ToysTheo had been changing into the squirrel too much, he knew that now... as a pulse of heat raced through his body from his groin. He realized that he shouldn't have come to the office.He had been spending most of his days at the squirrel in his home deep in the countryside. Teleworking most of the time, as the squirrel he felt no need for clothes, his heavy furred balls resting between his thighs as his paws raced over the keyboard. The sharp claws on his paws clattering loudly as he typed,...
Fantasy & Sci-FiIt’s time to go to the land of chocolate fountains and golden showers. That’s right. Scat, piss, shit, and every fluid in between. Ever fuck a chick in her ass and freak out when you see that little bit of shit on your dick? Then I’m sorry to say that scat isn’t for you buddy. Were you the only one of your friends that saw two girls one cup and didn’t get grossed out? If so, it’s time to celebrate it! Don’t get pissed off, get pissed on! Scat porn has the craziest, kinkiest chicks and dudes...
Scat Porn SitesI’m not saying anything controversial when I say men love seeing women naked. It’s a fact of life as fundamental as gravity. It’s a force of nature that cannot be stopped by beast, man, or God. It’s an eternal truth and a divine mandate. As sure as the sun will rise, men will attempt to view as many women naked as they possibly can. Any man not doing so is either a sad or a gay one.This means that any woman a man sees regularly is mentally stripped down during every interaction. If any women...
The FappeningClayton Smithers was really glad he had listened to his mother when she told him he should become a doctor. Mom had always told him it would be a lot of work but worth it in money and prestige. She had been only part right. Hardly any work had been required, just learning the jargon and technical terms by studying books and papers written by psychiatrists who had taken the hard route to obtaining their degrees. Clayton Smithers had taken the easy route, buying his degree from the best diploma...
‘To me it’s not really a green. When I think green, I think of grass. That’s more like lemonade color.’ Erica’s nose was far too close to the glasses for my taste. Pouring the nearly clear absinthe over the rough-cut, cane-sugar cubes I favor, I tapped my spoon for a second to get her to back up. I wished I had my full setup here like I have at home, my Absinthe fountains water drippers are missed when I began to try and slowly pour water over the sugar cube. ‘Don’t you light it on fire?’ she...
Have you ever heard about a wonderful site called “Motherless”? I have a feeling that was a dumb question, of course, you fucking have. Well, I am here to talk about Motherless, but I shall also pay special attention to their Arab category. If you think Arabian sluts are hot, well you are in for a tasty treat, believe me.First, I should probably warn you that the name of this place comes from the fact that their content might be a bit too hardcore or questionable for some of you. Back in the...
Arab Porn SitesFuck yeah, life’s a bitch! So here I am, awake at 3:45 AM, after dreaming I was fucking this freaking hot MILF neighbor with heavy boobs, a flat tummy, a nice bubble butt, and sexy long legs. It was all hot and steamy, up until when she was sucking me off and just as I was about to obliterate her cute face with hot cum canon, my dream cut right off and I woke up with a tent on my pajamas.That dream ain’t coming back, but damn it! I sure gotta cum, so I boot up my laptop and type “cum facial” in...
Facial Cumshot Porn SitesHer head had been on the brink of falling onto my shoulder for the past 15 minutes. Every time, I thought I’d feel her soft locks brush against my skin, the train would rattle and she roused herself up again. It was torture. I could clearly see she could barely muster the energy to sit up straight again, and I could no longer bear the torture of anticipating the sensations to come and still not feel her on my shoulder. I couldn’t help but let out an exasperated sigh when the train suddenly...
I had met Gunther while attending a boring conference out of town.Of course my beloved hubby had not been there for sure.He was a young athletic Austrian guy, handsome and muscled. A real gentleman, but I felt he had a dark past and I wanted to know it…Now Gunther was in town and my hubby was out; so I agreed to meet him at a local pub, I knew it was not the sort of place I would normally go with a man on my first date; but I did not care about it…I decided to wear my tightest black leather...
Absinthe 2: The Absinthe of Malice By Morpheus The flight from Seattle to Boston had been extremely long and uncomfortable, even with the two hour delay in Chicago where I got to stretch my legs and change flights. My book had given me something to do during the countless hours in the air, though admittedly, Collin had been my largest savior from boredom. The two of us had ended up talking for over half the flight, and by the time we finally landed, I was even starting to consider...
Und draußen schallte wieder Punkmusik aus dem Ghettoblaster – von der Eisenbahnunterführung bis zu seinem Haus! Punks und Skater hingen da ab. Das war diese Art von Jugendlichen, die ihren Eltern das Leben schwer macht , die von Arbeit nichts hielten, sich an keine Regeln hielten, ständig auf Party machten. Die soffen viel zu viel und kotzten dann in irgendeine Ecke. Denen bedeutete doch nichts und niemand etwas. Wahrscheinlich nahmen sie auch Drogen und trieben weiß-Gott-was mit...
BDSMAnna introduced Ethel to her father, Jonas Strong, when they met him in Wilsonville. Jonas was owner and manager of the bank and was a pillar of the community. He was surprised to see a woman dressed as Ethel was, but was completely taken by her when he found out that she had saved his daughter's life. He was impressed by any woman who had the gumption to be a gunfighter, and he was further impressed by the way she was armed. Jonas wanted to get to know Ethel better, so he and Anna stayed...
Ethel developed a really great liking for Adam Strong in the week she spent visiting them. He did not exactly remind her of her dead husband, Archy, but he had a lot of the same characteristics that she had loved in Archy. His main attraction, though, was that he let her be her. Adam did not try to change her to fit some sort of "ideal woman" in his eyes. Ethel hated to leave at the end of her week's visit, but she knew that she had to if she was ever going to satisfy her vendetta against...
Motherless is the mother of all porn sites. Motherless has no conscience or moral guide. Motherless will show you the stuff that all other porn sites are afraid to put up. Motherless will do this for free. This is seriously one of the nastiest and raunchiest sites out there and Motherless/Fetish is perhaps one of the dirtiest places on the web that are well within reach. Sure you can scan the dark web and find something even more naughty or puzzlingly gross, but why do that when you’ve got...
Fetish Porn SitesJake Peters and I watched the lady friends of Lynette Peters as they played cards at the kitchen table. Jake's comments about Betty, and how he wouldn't mind a roll in the hay with her, surprised me. Jake always dated girls around his own age. Betty was probably in her mid to late thirties. She was pretty, blond and sported a curvy figure. Not overweight, comfy would be the best description. I did notice that she was eyeing us up a bit more than the other women were. But first a brief...
MILFThe next afternoon, Ethel, Hester, and Anna rode into Wilsonville. Ethel had her horse, but the other two ladies were riding in a carriage driven by Anna. Ethel was planning to open her bank account and stay over to play poker, but the other two were going to do some shopping and return home in time for supper. They met Jonas for dinner (lunch to you damyankees) and had a very nice meal at the hotel restaurant. Of course, it was not up to what Hester could and would fix, but it was still...
After tea on the Friday evening Thelma stopped me as I was going into upstairs to my room. Her eyes looked wild and her breathing was heavy. “I’m going to a party,” She said in a low voice, “do you want to watch me getting undressed?” I nodded like a puppet. “Wait in my room…I’ll be up in five minutes.” I skipped up the stairs two at a time! I nervously let myself into my sister’s bedroom. I’d been in many times before – borrowing her dirty knickers and stuff to use...
Harry and Rob sat in the local pub in their usual spot in the corner by themselves. They were having a discussion about what to do with Ethel. Rob has been adamant that he wants to hang Ethel by her ankles and butcher her. Harry strongly disagrees with him. Harry is convinced that if he talks to Ethel he can persuade her not to go to the authorities and they will be able to use her the same way the other men. Rob agrees to try Harry's way first but he says" if she wants to argue I'm going to...
kEthel sat with her tits nailed to the work table. Her tits were swollen to twice their normal size from the beating they had received from Harry and Rob and the axe handle. Ethel sobbed both from the pain and the feeling of despair and hopelessness. She knew she would not be able to sweet talk the men into letting her go without anymore abuse. Harry and Rob arrived and again Ethel begged and pleaded with them to let her go. The men laughed and told her they still had a few more things they...