YPA: Your Privacy Assured/YPA.ISO/text/j229-078

Text File | 1995-03-09 | 23.6 KB | 500 lines

     Journal Entry 078/0229

     Among the worn mountains of Piter Range, the crisp cool air carried
to my nostrils the scents of pine and ash and the spoor of animals, but
more importantly it carried...

     Gotcha, ya little minx, I thought to myself.  I bet you thought
you'd lost me last night.  Guess again.

     I resettled the heavy backpack I'd been carrying, checked the flag
that I had to be wearing according to the rules, and settled into a
comfortable hike.  She was still way ahead of me, and she might even be
distancing me.  I had two more days, at this pace, before she crossed
the border and was home free.  I had to get her.

     Capture the flag.  Whoever she was, she had managed to get freedom
for her compatriots, and they had been let loose, flagless.  By the
rules, they had to walk back to their territory, and considering it's a
ten-day walk back to their campsite, they weren't in for a lot of fun.
They had to go as a group, and would be fed and provided packs for the
journey.  One catch, though... The breaker was not under the rules.  She
had her flag, and had to make her way back home, while every member of
my team that wasn't involved in infiltration and recon was after her.
And I had her.  I had almost lost her last night.  But I could smell her
in the woods.  She'd been forced back down off the treeline, and I might
be able to get to her unseen.

     I knew that down that ridge, over to my left, there was a good
facing to the small vale beyond the Piters.  I headed for it, climbing
over rocks and fording a small stream.  I reached it.

     The view was magnificent, but I ignored it.  Beyond was the vale
that led to a crook, beyond which was a plain.  The plain was about a
three-day hike across, but my prey might not know where the border was.
I looked with my binoculars, scanning the field before me.  No, she had
not reached the plain, not yet at any rate.  She was still in the
treeline.  But before dark she would break the treeline; After that I
would be able to move only at night, because she would have an
enormously free field of vision to see me in.  Even that was risky.

     I ducked back spinward and began an easy run, trying to make up for
lost time.  Last night I'd masked my scent by making my bed in a cave,
and I knew that this Felinzi had lost me.  This morning, the winds had
changed, and I was the beneficiary.  I could smell her, but not her me.
I smiled at the thought.  Sometime last night I'd disappeared.  She must
have thought I'd gotten down through the aspin pass, which was a shorter
route.  She would still be concerned that I would make the treeline and
spot her, even before she did.  Or I could even be waiting, lying in the
tall grass of the border plain.

     I made an easy path and careened past the evergreens and moss
covered rocks and I reached the approximate edge of the forest about
three hours before dark.  Damn.  She was going to make good head time.
I pulled out the binoculars and adjusted them.  The lenses are made up
of oil suspended in forcefields; they can be computer-adjusted to any
resolution, and are much finer than glass or plastic.  I looked out and
adjusted the feed to I/R.  Gotcha.

     She was ahead by a distance.  About two hours, I'd say, and making
way through the knee-high grass slowly, carefully.  That's it, I
thought, take it careful; I might be hiding in the grass ahead of you.
Oh, by the way, paranoia will wear you out faster, sweetheart.

     I watched carefully, ducking behind the large rock I'd found only
when she turned to scan my area with her binoculars.  I waited
patiently, timing on my chrono for twenty minutes, then returning to
look over the rock.  I was lucky; never once did she spot me, or so I
hoped.

     Dark came, the shadow edge passing slowly, darkening the plain.
Clouds approached, dark storm clouds that threatened heavy rains.  As
they approached, the temperature soared.  As soon as it was as dark as
it could get, I started running again.  Her scent was easy to catch now
that the only thing between her and I was the grass.  At this point it
was a race between her and I and exhaustion; I hoped I was up to it.  I
grabbed some mixed grains out of a pouch on my pants and ate as I
walked.

     The hours wore on.  I lost sight of her, but soon spotted something
odd in the grass ahead; a somewhat horizontal slot in the pattern of
grasses; she'd lain down and gone to sleep!  Silly girl, overconfidence
will be your loss.  But I felt tired myself.  But not tired enough to
make my way towards her.  The next half hour was long and careful,
because I abandoned my backpack and anything else that might make noise
and crept up on her silently in the light shoes I'd brought along just
for this situation.  I stayed downwind of her, and the wind stayed my
friend.  I approached within a hundred meters, fifty meters.  What if
it's a fake, I suddenly thought?  I hadn't seen her on the plain for a
while, but still...

     No, it wasn't.  I could still smell her.  Twenty meters.  The wind
now carried the sound of her breathing.  I crept up a little closer.
This was going to be too easy.  Ten meters.  Five.

     I crawled on hands and toes towards her, making my way.  She was
still there, still asleep.  I tapped her on the shoulder.

     She awoke with a start and exploded in her sudden effort to escape.
I plunged my hand down into her sleeping bag and struggled with her.
She grabbed me, tried to shove me away, but I held tight with my right
arm as the left sought for, found, and pulled away her flag.  She
shoved, and I released her, falling backwards, the flag in hand; she
went running, and I finally got a good look at her face.  "Hi, Tarrete."

     I whistled, and she stopped, turned, looked, saw the flag.  She
threw her arms out in frustration and walked back towards me.  "Gotcha,"
I said as she walked back.

     "How did you find me?" she said.

     "I've been behind you all the time."

     "But, I lost you last night.  There's no way..."

     "Slept in a cave, Tarr."

     She growled.  "I should have thought of that."

     "Hey, I almost lost you.  But the last few hours were pretty easy.
Makes up for that terrible day you gave me over Piter Pass."

     She smiled.  "I bet you just hated that."

     "It was cold, rocky, and annoying."

     "Ah, you skins are all alike."

     "And you furries can be annoying," I said, still smiling.  "But
that's okay.  At least I got you.  Least I can do.  You released twelve
people!"

     "Good.  By the time we get to your camp they'll be back at mine,
preparing to wreak havoc.  By the way, we know where your flag is."

     "So what?  We know where yours is, too.  The tough part is getting
it.  You know Irene stocked this game so that there's not enough people
to both guard the flags and make offensives."

     She frowned.  "It's going to rain."

     "I know.  It helped me get closer; the cloud cover blocks light
from the other sectors, making it much darker."

     "Well, now what?" She asked.

     "You're my prisoner, Tarr.  You and I walk back to grey camp and we
put you into the stockade."

     "I mean, right now."

     "Right now, we get some sleep."  She wasn't about to walk away;
there was a ruleskeeper drone above us, probably two, and they would
disqualify her if she did.  She seemed infinitely frustrated by her new
role as passive prisoner, but those were the rules.  "Let's get your
stuff together.  We've got a short walk back to my gear."

     "What about the weather?" she asked, annoyed.

     "If it rains, it rains.  It's warm, and right now I need sleep."

     She bit her lower lip and gathered up her backpack, grumbling all
the while.  We walked back to where I'd dropped my pack, rolled out our
two bags and went to sleep.  Luckily, it did not rain.

     The next day, well after dawn, we broke what little camp we had,
packing up and moving out.  I kept her flag as a headband, enjoying the
look on her face as I tied it on.  Tarrete was a woman I knew very
little about, except that P'nyssa had dated her for a real short time,
and that she tended to be short-fused.  She was, however, very pretty,
with very big eyes set a little farther apart than average, and large
ears for a Felinzi.  Her muzzle was short.  Most attractive, however,
was her build, because she very deliberately muscular.

     We walked, she behind me, back towards the treeline, when finally
the clouds broke.  I reached into my backpack and pulled out my floppy
hat; she had no such accoutrement and merely grumbled louder.  We walked
on, but her grumbling was getting on my nerves.  In the torrential rain
vision was obscured and the ground became muddy.  It was a very warm
rain, humid and cloying, and she could not have been enjoying it at all
against her fur.

     We reached the base of the mountain ridge and began the long, slow
trek up it, along the path I'd taken earlier.  As dark fell we hadn't
nearly made it to the cave I'd used before, or to anything else that
might have been a shelter.  Neither of us carried tents; I had a
waterproof sleeping bag with a miniature head-net, mostly for bugs but
it would help with the rain.  We settled down under a large clump of
heavier trees and hoped it would provide some sort of cover.

     "This has got to be the worst night of my life," she grumbled.

     "Look," I said, trying to be my usual, philosophical self and
having a hard time of it, "This isn't going to get any easier.  Why
don't you let up?"

     "And why don't you fuck off?" she said.

     I growled an unusually harsh slur in Uncia at her, my frustration
between her complaining and the rain overcoming my usual good nature.
Apparently she caught it, because she replied with something equally
vile.  That struck a nerve; I turned to face her.  "Tarrete," I said,
"Ah tari."  Prepare to be attacked.

     She took the threat literally and in one coiled spring she leapt
onto me.  We went skidding together in the mud.

     Her claws were out, and I barely avoided a nasty rake across my
chest, rolling to my left and backwards, coming to my feet.  She leapt
to hers just as fast.  "Come on, Ken, let's see what you've got," she
hissed, waving one finger at me, an enormous, blood-thirsty smile on her
face.

     I charged her, the bloodlust coming onto me as I saw it did her,
and as the rains poured down around us, I made a grab for her; she
blocked. I slid to my knees and grabbed her thigh, hauling her down with
me back into the mud.  She struggled again to get free, but I held tight
onto her jumpsuit.

     There was a tearing sound, and she clawed her way out of her
clothing, springing away and turning back towards me, roaring.  I
rolled, miscalculating; she hit me, her full weight thudding against my
shoulder, but most of the impact was absorbed by the mud.  Lightning
flashed.

     "If you want me to be your prisoner," she hissed again as I rolled
right again, trying to stand, "you'll have to MAKE me submit!"  Oh, ho,
I realized.

     "Okay, Tarr," I said in low, Uncia growl, "if that's the way you
want it, come and get it."  In the dark, I looked for her; instead, she
found me, coming out of the darkness in a heated rush and raking my back
with her claws.  Her claws never connected with my flesh, but I heard a
loud ripping sound.  She vanished again.

     "Cute, girl.  Come on, you can do better than that," I said.  She
growled somewhere in the dark and the rain.  The lightning flashed
again, but revealed nothing.  I suddenly realized what that attack had
accomplished; in a single step I found my pants had lost structural
integrity.  I started to stripped them off, and just as I had them free
she attacked again, hitting me with a wrestling hold from the rear.  My
response was to throw her over my shoulder.

     The exertion had gotten me as excited as she was, and I was
sporting an erection that, had I been an outside observer, must have
looked ridiculous.  But inside, I was hot, excited, burning, and I leapt
upon her even as she shook her head to clear it from the throw.  With my
legs I tried to pry hers apart, but she fought, kicking and hitting.

     I grabbed her arms and held them down, but her legs kicked at me
while I thrust my hard cock against her cunt.  She looked up at me, a
mixture of lust, anger and pain on her beautiful face, and she snarled
"Do it.  Do it to me, you want it."  I obliged, thrusting into her with
one hard, crashing thrust.  She howled.  I released her arms, and I
began to fuck her without mercy.  She wrapped her arms and legs around
my back, and as I pounded home my cock, she clawed her way across my
back; the pain was a searing, white thing in my head, but I ignored it,
screamed past it, and ravished her there, in the hot mud and rain,
fucking her.  She screamed and fought, but escape was not her purpose.
We rolled in the mud, and I felt the dirt get into my wounds, and she
wound up on top as I groaned.

     She held my cock inside her, and began to respond to it with the
same force I had, coming down in sharp, powerful slams that forced my
cock back against her cervix with every impact.  I groaned, and she
hammered on, harder and more forceful, stroking me, snarling
incoherently.  I reached up and grabbed her shoulders; she planted her
hands into the ground and forced me to haul myself up to her.  I kissed
her, and she wrapped her arms around my head, her tongue lunging into my
mouth, fighting with mine.  I fell back into the mud, and with a single
kick rolled us over, me on top, and picking myself up from her I kept on
slamming home into her cunt, and her howls and screams were reaching a
fever pitch as I did, and I felt her shoulder was under my snarling
teeth, and I was going to come, and as I came I bit her, losing control
and tasting blood.

     I subsided, raising myself off of her.  She blinked a few times as
the rain continued with slightly less force than before.  "You okay?"
she asked.

     I swallowed, pushed a few loose hairs away, nodded.  "You?" I said.

     She nodded.  I slid my shrinking erection out of her, shuddering
with the delicious effort, and slowly rose to my feet.  The effort made
my head spin, but I shook and cleared my vision, and helped her up.  We
located our soaking wet camp and she applied long strips of HN-gauze to
the crisscross-crossed streaks across my back. "How bad is it?" I asked.

     "You don't want to know."

     "Oh, come on, Tarr, I've been clawed during sex before.  Ember does
it to me all the time."

     "Not like this.  I'm sorry, Ken, but I've never seen marks like
this before- I've certainly never made marks like this before.  Are you
sure you can use both arms?"  That worried me.

     I windmilled both arms through a full 360 degrees.  It hurt like
hell, and I could feel muscles moving the wrong way over other muscle
sheathes as I used the left arm.  "Tarr?  Sling my left arm."

     "I thought so.  Will you be okay?"

     "I'm full of nanobiotics, I should be okay, health-wise.  But from
a structural point of view, I'm mess."

     She nodded.  "I thought so."  We cast about for our clothes, put on
spare sets and used the remainder to fashion me a sling.

     "How's your shoulder?" I asked.  There was a lot of blood caked at
the crux of her throat.

     "Hurts, a lot," she said, with a smile.  "But I've had worse.  Your
timing was good, though."

     "Was it?" I asked.

     "Third climax," she said, with a cheery smile in the rain.  "But
I'll be okay.  I've put nb's on it and bandaged it as well as possible.
Nothing we can do until we get to your camp, and that's at least two
days away."

     "Yeah."  I stopped for a moment, and then said, "Tarr, what led you
to that?"

     "To what?"

     "Fighting like that.  The aggression."

     She shrugged.  "Dunno.  But once we started, I just got... aroused,
you know?  Besides, I wanted to see if P'nyssa's opinion that you were
'good' was right."

     I was curious.  "Well?"

     "Eh," she said.  "You're good enough," she said with a smile.

     "Have to do it again, sometime," I said.

     Her eyes widened, and she said, "You're kidding, right?"

     "Not on your life."


     The next day brought a clearing of the weather, and wearily we
trudged up the side of Piter's ridge.  She grumbled less this time, and
we talked cheerfully.  My arm was useless slung as it was, and I needed
her help.  I was fortunate that she'd torn up my left arm since I'm
mostly right handed, although if I'd been flying I usually pilot with my
left hand, since it's the one that's most dextrous.  We passed my cave
and headed for the last peak in the ridge, up into the cold heights.
The ridge is not very big, but the temperature change can be dramatic.

     That night we stopped and made camp.  This time, with the cold and
the drier weather, we made a substantial fire, trying to warm up.

     "Did you and Nyss get along?" I asked.

     She shrugged.  "Yes and no.  She's more het than you are, I think.
She really prefers your company anyway.  Besides, sometimes I'm just a
little too butch for her."

     "After last night, I can't imagine why."

     She chuckled.  She has magnificent eyes.

     A short while later, she walked around and slowly peeled off my
shirt.  "Your wounds didn't bleed, thanks to the nb's.  But that repair
should still be corrected by a healer when you get to your campsite."
Her fingers were delicate and gentle against my ravaged back, and I
cooed with the pleasure of her gentler touch.

     "Like that?" she said with an amused voice.

     "Very much.  I'm very ticklish on my back."

     Her response was to slowly wrap her arms around me from behind,
taking my nipples in between her fingers and slowly twisting them.  My
response was instantaneous; I groaned aloud and closed my eyes, feeling
the small electric jabs that that does to me course between them.  My
erection swelled to it's full length, and one of her paws slid down to
stroke it through the material of my jeans.  I leaned back against her,
very aware of my tender back, but enjoying what she was doing far too
much to give a damn.

     She laughed quietly and said, "You're very excitable."

     "Very," I whispered.

     She laughed again, and said "Give me your hand."

     I gave her my right hand, and she looked at it closely.  I looked
over my shoulder at her, and she said, "Stay right here."  She rose and
walked out of the immediate firelight to her backpack, retrieved
something from a small pouch, and returned.  She sat to my immediate
right and took my hand again.  She produced a nail clipper and a file,
and proceeded to give me a manicure.  I guessed what she had in mind,
and chuckled.  "You really want to do what I'm thinking?"

     She said, "You had yours last night."

     "And you didn't enjoy it?"

     "I didn't say that."  She released my hand and said, "You know what
I want."

     I did at that.  I leaned over to her and unzipped the denim
jumpsuit she wore down to her groin.  She smiled as her furry belly was
exposed, and I pulled aside the material to expose her small, soft
breasts.  I bent down and took her nipple between my teeth, biting down
gently, then a little sharper.  Her body went rigid, little mewls
escaping her.  My smile went to a full leer.

     I pulled the suit off of her shoulders, then down.  She raised her
hips... I paused for a second, ran back and got my sleeping bag, opened
it and placed it next to the fire.  She scooted onto it, wiped her palms
together to clear off the sand, and I helped her shimmy the rest of the
way out of her jumpsuit.  Naked, she was gorgeous; her thick golden fur
barely obscured those well-defined muscles.  Her legs were striking,
like bands of wire cable, powered-armor cabling, sliding and rippling
under fur.  I placed my backpack and her bag behind her, and she leaned
back, her legs spread.

     I sat cross-legged between her legs and began to gently tickle her
belly, and she mewled again in pleasure.  "Want it straight," I said,
almost a question.

     "Mm, hmm..." she said with an almost answering tone of
acknowledgment.  I felt my smile return as I trailed my fingers down to
her cunt, her lips full and pouting.  I laughed, running my thumb down
her slit, parting her lips.  She was wet, anticipating.  I touched her
with my weak left hand to maintain contact; her eyes were closed, and my
style says never let them think you've gone unless you mean it.  So I
stayed in touch with her while I brought my right hand to her muzzle and
slid my index finger into her mouth.  "Lick it," I said,

     She did.  "Get it wet, kittykat," I urged.  When she had done a
good job, I placed my right hand back between her thighs and slid my
finger into her cunt.  She groaned aloud again as I stroked my finger in
and out.  I pulled out all the way and slid a second finger.

     Her juices were flowing freely and that was one of the reasons I'd
chosen my sleeping bag;  I wanted the scent of her juices imbedded in
the cloth to keep me warm at night.  I slid in a third finger.

     Three fingers make an opening.  With a few simple flexes I made
room for my pinky.  She groaned as I fucked her slowly with all four
fingers, her vagina opening up and sometimes trying to suck me in, and
the crux of my palm was next, the widest part of my hand until my thumb.

     I rocked my hand back and forth, going deeper, and with one
surprisingly gentle push my palm slid in up to the thumb.  She
shuddered, a loud growl escaping her.  Her chest rose and fell with
huge, deep, relaxing breaths as I slid my hand back out and folded the
thumb against the palm.  I began to fuck her gently again, feeling her
flesh expand around my hand.

     Each push got another millimeter in, another millimeter wet, and
once I felt the cool wetness on the back of my hand, I had it, and I
slid my entire hand into her cunt, folding my finger back as I did so,
canting the wrist so that the thumb led.  I rotated it gently around the
nubbin I felt to be her cervix, and she groaned.  I held my fist there,
inside her;  the sight of my wrist leading into her body fascinated me.

     "Ken," she said.  "Fuck me."  I began to pump slightly, and her
fingers sought her clit as I fucked her, caressing her vagina with my
fingers, exploring every expanded nook, roiling about inside her body.
Her fingers twisted and tortured her clit, and I leaned over and took a
nipple between my teeth.  The two of us worked to take her teetering to
the edge of ecstacy, my fist rocking back and forth inside her, my
tongue and teeth abusing her nipples as she did gentle violence to her
clitoris, and I knew she had finally come when she let out a howl that
must have scared off every bit of wildlife in a hundred klicks.

     She turned on her side and slid off of my hand.  I raised my hand
to my lips and began to lick it quietly.  She watched me with an intent
expression as I cleaned my hand off, tasting her sweet cunt juices that
had inundated me and my bedding.  Halfway through, she took my hand by
the wrist and pulled it away from me, towards her.  We shared and the
feeling of our two tongues roaming over my hand tickled.  I laughed.

     There's wasn't anything else to say.  Tomorrow we would return to
the my side's gamesite and she would be put in the stocks until the game
ended or one side won.  I encouraged the fire to burn hotter, quicker,
rearranging the wood to encourage more airflow.  After a while, she sat
next to me and said "Thanks."

     I shrugged with a grin on my face.  "I liked it."

     She nodded.  After a while the fire had fallen low enough I felt
safe going to sleep with it, and we cuddled together under our blankets.
Although I could smell her sex all night long, her presence kept me warm
enough.

--
"Plain Dangerous"
The Journal Entries of Kennet R'yal Shardik, et. al., And Related Tales
are (c) 1989, 1990 Elf Matheiu Sternberg.  May be freely distributed by
cybernetic media; hardcopies are limited to single printings for
personal use.