Here’s the blurb and an adult excerpt from my sci-fi story, Acquainted With the Night.
[Ménage Amour ManLove: Erotic Alternative Sci-Fi Ménage a Quatre Romance, M/M/M/M, with Multiple Partners, Public Exhibition, sex toys]
Dale despised the Terran military. He was drafted, not a volunteer. He never expected to get captured by the Algonquans and sold as a breeder pet, either. He only prays his new owner is kind and doesn’t eat him. Then he meets fellow pet, Mark, who informs him getting captured was the luckiest day of their lives. Mark also hated the military and now spends his days in a life of sexual leisure, enjoying poetry and totally at peace with his fate.
Dale settles in and finds not only does he enjoy this life, he loves Mark, too. Despite tragedy striking too close to home in their protected world, they find room to love their Master’s newest pets, Cooper and Nate.
When the war ends and the Terran pets are granted their freedom, the men are faced with a choice: return, or stay with the owner they’ve grown to love?
A Siren Erotic Romance
The next thing I remembered, I didn’t believe, at first.
My vision slowly cleared. I lay upright at an angle, not quite vertical but not under my own steam. Some sort of energy manacles on my wrists held them pinned to the sides of the shoulder-high frame I was attached to.
Attached in more ways than one.
Face-in, as my mind slowly re-engaged with my body, I discovered I wasn’t alone. I learned more about my predicament based upon what I saw around me. The huge facility struck me as some sort of warehouse, but then I heard a faint rumble in the distance that immediately brought to mind a ship’s engine.
As far as the eye could see, we were immobilized in circular racks of twenty men each, facing in. We were all gagged. I tested the soft ball in my mouth. It gave and changed shape, but despite not being painfully tight, the strap holding it in place had no slack. I couldn’t dislodge it.
The other men in my rack looked as wide-eyed and shocked as I felt. I didn’t recognize any of them, which didn’t mean anything because I didn’t socialize much. I barely knew the flight crews whose BBs I maintained. I slept, ate, wanked, and worked. That comprised my usual day. I existed, barely, to make it through another day.
If it wasn’t for the mind-numbing fear, I might have found my situation interesting, something to break the monotony of my pitiful existence.
We’d all been stripped naked. Our ankles bore similar manacles as our wrists, pinning our legs to the frame, spread apart but not uncomfortably so. I tried and could not move.
Angled just slightly forward, I could take my weight off my feet if I leaned against the frame and let it hold me. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but it wasn’t my choice of accommodations, that’s for damn sure.
In the center of the rack, a dome-shaped housing held what I guessed could only be described as a pump. From it, twenty hoses emerged with an attachment on the end of each one.
Attached to our cocks. Sort of like the pictures of old-fashioned cattle milkers I’d seen in schoolbooks and vids.
I wasn’t in any pain. In fact, once I fought back my panic and tried to relax, I realized it didn’t feel too terribly bad. Not like I could fight the woody the constant suction from the device gave me anyway.
In the distance I spotted movement, blue-garbed figures working around another rack. I didn’t know how many of us there were in this room, or vessel, or warehouse, but I could count at least twenty other racks, and suspected many beyond those.
As the figures drew closer to our rack, I occasionally heard muffled grunts from my fellow captives. It wasn’t until they reached the rack next to ours I realized what they were doing.
Photographs of the Algonquans were never shown, even though I knew we had a prisoner complex near Alpha Centauri. I’d heard rumors the most horrible of tortures wouldn’t get Algonquans to give up information. Again, that little fact didn’t stop the government from building them up in our heads as horrible, mutant, insectoid creatures.
If these were Algonquans then the government had badly lied. It also left me praying the Algonquans treated their prisoners better than we did.
Close to eight feet tall by my best guess, with smooth, bronze skin, their black hair fell past their slim shoulders and was tied in a braid. They had four long but thick fingers, although they seemed to favor the first two fingers like a clasper grip. Large brown eyes, a flattened nose, and a long, oval face.
They weren’t Terran beautiful, but they weren’t the ferocious creatures we’d been told about, either.
They didn’t talk to any of the Terran men in English, although I was situated close enough that I noticed if one of my fellow captives made a loud noise through their gag, one of the Algonquans would stroke his naked back and make soothing, chirruping noises at him, like you would a child.
Or a dog.
The Algonquans moved methodically around each rack, and only as they drew within my line of sight did I realize they had a hover cart of some sort, loaded with supplies. Each man was given three injections in the left ass cheek, a metal collar was placed around his neck, and a tag on the collar scanned into a hand-held device. Then they donned some sort of mitts and, working from the face down, they rubbed each man, front and back, armpits and groin, all the way down to their feet. As they stepped back to check their work, sometimes going over an area again if necessary, I realized it was a hair-removal process. They left eyebrows, lashes, and hair on the head, but everything else, including facial hair, was removed.
They had it down to a science. The next step, apparently the one that produced noises in the men, was squirting a very viscous goo onto a probe that went…well, up the ass. Not just a probe, but hooked to a cord, which they then plugged into a small control panel on the frame each man was attached to.
This is when it got interesting.
Outside it was now late in the day, and my stomach rumbled. Mack was there, waiting with a vehicle the likes of which I’d never seen. The same kind of hover technology that powered the carts the techs had pushed in the ship, and the racks themselves when they moved them. I saw no road, just flat, grassy lanes, although they did have what appeared to be sidewalks.
Mark squeezed my shoulder. “Your chariot, sir.”
Master helped me in, fussing over me, making sure I was comfortable before he let Mack take us away from there.
Mark smiled as he watched me watching the landscape. “Cool, isn’t it?”
I nodded, stunned.
It was beautiful.
Ganymede, being an artificial colony without a natural atmosphere that wouldn’t kill you, was constructed of metal, domes, and artificial lighting. I’d been to Earth twice while in the military, and while a few natural preserves remained there, it looked nothing like this.
We cruised a few feet off the ground, over the grassy lane. Other vehicles did the same. Made sense, a vehicle that didn’t have to touch the ground didn’t need pavement. We passed buildings, but they were either artfully camouflaged by plants so as to be barely visible, or they were made in such a way as to appear part of the landscape. I’d been wrong when I thought we’d landed in a small town. Where we lived was apparently one of the larger, well-populated cities on the planet.
They were just a lot fucking smarter than Terrans in how they built their cities.
I’d never see so much grass or so many plants in my life. We passed a park where Algonquan handlers exercised their human charges. The humans all looked happy.
Like Mark and I felt.
I never saw Terrans look this happy, either in the military or out of it.
It took us about fifteen minutes to get home, and I got my first look at the front of our home.
It was as beautiful as the rest of the city. We had a gated driveway, and our front yard was even larger than the back. I’d never seen past the ten-foot-tall privacy fence that hid us from the rest of the world. Lots of large, beautiful shade trees, lush grass.
I longed to be back there.
At home, Master insisted on helping me out of the vehicle and made me hold on to his arm all the way inside. I nearly cried with relief when I walked through that front door for, technically, the first time. Well, the first time I actually walked through it and was conscious when I did so.
We headed straight for Master’s bed. He helped me climb in and waited for me to get comfortable before he undressed and got in. Mark climbed in on my other side.
I’d willingly kill for the look of love in Master’s eyes. I didn’t flinch when he stroked my cheek.
“Love Kal,” he said. “Dolmo.”
I nodded. “I know.” I reached up to his face and stroked his cheek. I didn’t know if I was breeching protocol or not. I didn’t care. I brushed my finger against his lips, and he smiled, opened, and sucked my finger in, swirling his wonderful tongue around it.
Aaannnd there went my cock. Okay, so that’s all it took to get it hard again. Cool.
Mark laughed. “You’re a smart fucker, and dammit, I love you.” He kissed the back of my neck.
“I love you, too,” I said, not taking my eyes from Master. He continued to tease me, noting my cock’s reaction to the delicious sensation.
He sat up and carefully moved down the bed, positioning himself so he lay between my legs. He kissed my cock, then wickedly grinned, and out went his tongue.
I closed my eyes and moaned as Mark laughed. “Oh, yeah. I forgot to tell you, he gives wicked awesome blow jobs.”
His tongue wrapped around my cock, gliding up and down it before releasing it, sucking my balls into his mouth and doing beautifully delicious things to them before his tongue slid into my ass, where he teased and tormented me without giving me release.
You can find all my Siren releases as Tymber Dalton, Lesli Richardson, Macy Largo, and Tessa Monroe on my Siren page at: