"Status report!" Ponkert yelled to the monitor over the blare of the siren, as he and Jan scrambled into their jumpsuits. They were professionals, trained to react to emergencies and overcome them. Their pleasure of seconds ago was forgotten in the urgency of the ship's situation.
"Malfunction of the fusion reactor," the monitor responded. Its calm recorded voice seemed out of place in light of the pending disaster.
"The magneto hydrodynamic field has collapsed. Eight minutes until destruction. Instruction?"
"Jesus God!" Ponkert muttered to himself, then shouted to the computer.
"Emergency ejection of return pods. Program landing radius one mile of the first pod's touchdown. Begin immediate ejection of the matter transmitter, then the remaining pods. Jettison Jan and me as soon as we're sealed into the escape pods!"
The mighty hulk of the Intergalactic Vessel Werewolf shook with one-right-after-another shocks as the pods and their valuable cargoes shot away from the dying ship into the vacuum of space, toward an unknown planet.
"Now, let's get the hell out of here!" Ponkert ordered the woman beside him.
Without hesitation, the two ran down the ship's corridor. The impending explosion rumbled beneath their feet, threatening their balance. Once in the escape area, Ponkert swung open the hatch to Jan's pod. His hand lovingly swatted her ass as she stepped in.
"Good luck," he said, trying to smile.
Worried furrows played across her forehead as she stared at him, wanting to reach out and pull him close for security. But she suppressed the urge. Even a quick parting kiss would take time. And time was the one thing neither had.
"Good luck, Chad," she whispered as Ponkert closed the hatch, locking it with a metallic clanking. Ponkert watched the ejection tube close like a hungry mouth around Jan's capsule, then felt the shock of its release.
"Now for me, you mechanical wench!" he shouted to the computer.
"Yes, master," the monitor answered as he climbed into his own pod. "And good luck to you, Chadwick Ponkert the Third."
He refused to give his normal response of: "Don't call me Chadwick!" It was no time for one-upmanship. The computer would win this time. Its one and only time. Its one and last time.
He listened as the hatch automatically sealed him into the pod. Outside, there was a loud rush of escaping air; then he was slammed into the padding of his couch as the pod was flung from the ship. He closed his eyes and waited.
Within a few seconds, he felt the dreaded shock-impact as the Werewolf cataclysmically exploded. Like a young nova, it flared with the intense actinic glare of tortured atoms being shattered; then rapidly faded to nothing. As if it had never existed, the Werewolf vanished, leaving an empty void that once had held a powerful starship.
As his pod recovered from the shock waves, the first tenuous filaments of the planet's outer ionosphere enveloped the capsule. Severe negative gee-loading grabbed him like a mailed fist intent on crushing the life from his body as the retro rockets fired. Gradually the pressure lessened as the escape vessel arced onto a gentle descent pattern. As the weighted load eased from his chest, Ponkert summoned enough strength to raise himself and peruse the small control panel.
The radar beacons from the other pods gave sharp blips on his screen.
All were on course, except for Jan's, which veered toward the northern part of the continent they raced to. He watched its path until it landed safely. He breathed easy. Jan was capable of taking care of herself until he found her. Now, if the matter transmitter came through its landing intact, the Werewolf's last flight wouldn't be in vain.
If not, they were stranded, forever, on a strange planet. The transmitter was a complex piece of machinery, with the simple task of breaking matter, living or otherwise, down to atoms, then sending those atoms across the reaches of space in a few seconds. Upon reaching their destination, the atoms would be rearranged in a receiver and everything would be as good as new.
The transmitters made exploring the universe an everyday occurrence for the average man. The only hang-up was that a transmitter had to be taken to a planet first. Thus Ponkert, and other like him, were needed to man the long rocket voyages to the stars. Their job was to establish transmitter bases on Earth-type planets, usually for Time-Shift Universal, a near governmental corporation that controlled the matter transmitter system.
Ponkert had challenged Time-Shift with the Werewolf's flight. He wondered if a few corporate bugs had been slipped into the ship's fusion reactor to eliminate competition. An organization like Time-Shift can't afford competition. If Ponkert's venture was successful others would go independent. Each independent planet was that much money out of Time-Shift's wallet.
He wished there was some way to check his theory, but if the Werewolf's destruction had been sabotage, Time-Shift had wiped out all traces of their activities with the explosion.
Ponkert returned his attention to the control panel and began manoeuvring the pod toward a landing. Without incurring the least bit of difficulty, he executed a slightly rough landing, unsnapped the confining straps that held him to the couch, and pressed the hatch release.
As the metal hatch rose, Ponkert scuttled from the pod into a world as beautiful as the Earth.
The escape capsule had settled down in the middle of an expansive glade which filled a valley between two gently sloping rises. He swung out of the hatch and dropped to the lush green carpet of thickly matted grass below.
His lungs rejoiced as they sucked in the fresh clean air-something long forgotten on Earth with her teeming billions. His eyes surveyed his surroundings. The same thick grass covered the rolling hills like the fur of a sleek animal. In the distance, a row of trees, similar in appearance to Earth pines, towered up to meet a deep blue sky. Near the gigantic hunks of the trees a stream gurgled, spilling its clear, fresh water into a small pond.
Pulling his gaze closer in to his immediate surroundings, he momentarily studied the hundreds of red, white and blue blossoms that dotted the valley. Their beauty was striking and similar to the carnations that once grew in abundance on Earth. Now the only flowers on his mother planet were artificial. He almost expected to find some whimsical artist bending over the blossoms, delivering the flowers' color with a paintbrush.
Ponkert's reverie was interrupted suddenly by a Scream-a high-pitched scream of a woman-in mortal fear. Ponkert pivoted, his eyes darting to locate the source of distress. Again the scream came, this time with great urgency. Two shadowed figures struggled in a grove of what appeared to be age-old oaks near the base of one of the hills. Without a thought of what he was interfering with, Ponkert began to run toward the trees.
As he reached the edge of the grove, he stopped abruptly, his mouth ajar from the unbelievable sight that met his eyes. A woman, gorgeous by any standards, was fighting, or trying to, a man who was decked out like an escapee from King Arthur's Round Table-complete with a heavy black sword and battle axe that dangled from his side. His cloak matched the color of his weapons, black of course! A golden dragon emblem writhed on his chest.
The woman, mostly unclothed, was a classical damsel in distress, straight out of the history books. Her blonde hair flew in a tangled fury as she struggled to escape the knight aberrant's clutches.
But to Ponkert, she had little hope of eluding such a powerfully built man. Twisting, the woman saw him. Her Brazilian topaz green eyes pleaded her cause far more eloquently than a thousand words.
Wishing he had the appropriate words to shout, Ponkert leaped at the two, without saying a word. He reached the locked pair and tore them apart with a strong shove that sent the knight staggering back and the scantily-clad beauty floundering to her ass on the ground. He glanced at her, making sure she was uninjured, then turned to her attacker. The sight that met his eyes made him wish he had thought twice before he jumped into the fray like some gallant fool.
The knight had drawn his broadsword. Its wicked looking black blade was levelled at Ponkert's chest. The knight's eyes were blazing with a rage that reflected his full intent of skewering the Earthman like a helpless rabbit.
"Hold on!" shouted Ponkert. "What type of knight do you call yourself?
Killing me will be a shallow victory if I'm unarmed!"
He didn't hold much faith in the possibility of chivalry being strictly adhered to by a knight caught in the process of raping a beautiful blonde, but at the moment he had everything to lose and absolutely nothing to gain by facing an adversary armed with a sword.
Whatever gods ruled the planet must have been smiling that day, because the knight hesitated and spat.
"Thy desires are met, knave!" the black-clad man granted in a voice that showed disapproval, but agreed with Ponkert.
Suddenly he tossed Ponkert his sword and drew his battle axe. Without further words, he attacked.
The sword was heavy, far heavier than Ponkert imagined. It felt terribly awkward in his hands.
Ponkert had only seen a broadsword in the museums on Earth-never held one. But necessity spurred him on. Necessity and the downward slash of his opponent's blade that was intended to cleave him in two and put a quick end to the confrontation Heaving the heavy sword upward, he parried the knight's axe in time to spare himself a halved-ass ending to his life.
The impact of the clashing steel was bone jarring. Ponkert stumbled back, his blade dipping to the ground, as he attempted to recover from the shattering vibrations. The two confused moves, whether they were intentional or not, saved him from his opponent's second swing, aimed at his legs. However, the blow was enough to wrench the sword from his hands. The knight grinned wickedly as he wound up for another over-the-head swing.
Realizing he would never have the time to retrieve his own blade and no manner of quick talking was going to save him now, Ponkert took the only avenue opened to him-he did some quick back-pedalling, only to be stopped by the trunk of one of the towering oaks. Assured of victory, the knight stepped forward and brought the glinting blue-black blade downward in an arc directed at the centre of Ponkert's skull.
For the second time since his landing on this planet, luck prevailed for the Earthman. The knight's axe abruptly stopped in mid-air with a loud thud. Ponkert glanced up to see the keenly honed steel blade lodged securely in an overhanging limb.
He sprang for his fallen sword while the black-clad knight struggled to dislodge his own weapon from the gripping wood. Without a thought of the chivalry he had hoped for, and gotten a few moments before, Ponkert clenched the pommel of his sword and swung it baseball-bat-style with all his might. The gleaming black blade sang toward the knight's side.
Sword fighting is like street-fighting, Ponkert had decided, rules are only for fools.
Despite the power of his blow, a chain mail coat beneath the knight's robes deflected the deadly bite of the sword. The impact, however, sent the man rolling to the ground howling in pain, probably caused by a few cracked ribs.
Regaining his feet and clutching his side, the knight glared at the Earthman, "I yield, interloper" he hissed. "But soon I will return. Have the scullery maid till then! Enjoy your cuntry delights-for they will be your last!"
Still holding his aching side, the knight stumbled off into the woods, disappearing in the dark shadows. Ponkert turned his attention to the woman he had rescued and the knight had called a "scullery maid."
"Thank you, Sir Knight," the girl smiled up from her position on the ground, "for saving me from the whims of that pig who calls himself lord of this country."
If this gorgeous piece of womanflesh was a "scullery maid," Ponkert couldn't wait to meet some of the women of royal blood on this planet.
The girl's long golden hair, hung around her shoulders, pleasingly disarrayed by her bout with her attacker. The thin muslin frock, torn in several places during the fray, did nothing to hide her high, firm breasts from Ponkert's searching eyes. Two nipples pushed against the cloth like small buttons. Apparently the French, or this planet's equivalent, had not yet invented the brassiere.
The muslin also did little to hide the girl's slim waist and slightly angular hips that strained against the fabric. A long rip up the front of the frock revealed the softness of her white thighs-thighs that beckoned to Ponkert, her saviour.
"My pleasure, uh-milady, my pleasure," Ponkert answered, attempting to reply in some manner equal to this planet's period of development.
"Oh, certainly, my lord! Certainly!" she exclaimed with glee.
Quickly she slithered out of her thin covering and reclined to her back on the grassy forest floor. Her knees bent slightly and her legs drifted apart giving him a clear view of her golden fleece-covered sex.
"Milord?" she questioned. "I am ready to give you your pleasure. Why do you hesitate?"
Smiling in amazement, Ponkert quickly understood what he had unknowingly asked for, and what he was knowingly being offered. He also knew that different planets had different mores, and he was a civilized man, not wishing to offend any of the local customs.
"Pardon him, Theodotus," he mumbled a quote from Shaw's Caesar and Cleopatra, thinking of the black knight who had scurried off into the woods, "he is a barbarian and thinks that the customs of his tribe and island are the laws of nature."
"Come, my lord," she beckoned, holding her long lithe arms outstretched to him.
"Soon enough, you delightful wench," he answered settling down into those inviting arms. There would be no denying this willing girl her due today.
She chuckled as her arms cradled around him. They kissed, mouth straining to meet mouth. His tongue lightly danced over her lips, detecting an intriguing taste of honey. Her tongue eagerly waited for his.
As they continued their oral duelling, his hands began to rove over the exquisite curves of her body. His fingertips traced down the line of her smoothly muscled arm, slowly drifting to the slope of her white shoulder. Teasing there momentarily, enough to excite small waves of gooseflesh over her body, his hand glided along her side brushing against a perfectly formed breast. He felt a quiver of joy rush through the girl at the taunting contact.
Realizing the sensual capacity of the girl's tits, his hand wiggled between their bodies, covering the fleshy mountain it discovered. He squeezed lightly, then increased the pressure. The girl pulled her mouth away from his and groaned. Taking advantage of her arched neck, he lowered his mouth to the white skin opened to him. His tongue, flicking and teasing, toyed along her neck, then taunted a small delicate ear. A definitely aroused whimper came from the blonde-haired beauty.
Adjusting her position slightly, to allow his hand additional room to fondle her passion-ignited breast, the girl slid a leg between his, sandwiching her thigh so that it pressed against the bulge that was growing in the crotch of his jumpsuit. Gently, her leg nuzzled and pushed at the thickening length.
Still retaining its healthy hold on her tit, his hand rolled the globe and his thumb and forefinger tweaked at the tantalizing nipple until it stood atop the crest of her breast like a hard pebble of flesh. His actions were rewarded with the quickened breathing of his willing companion.
In return, her long fingered hands began searching the broad expanse of his chest, roaming unexplored territory until they found the zipper on his jumpsuit. A quick downward trip and the zipper was freed. Pausing momentarily, Ponkert rolled from the girl and slipped from his clothing, then returned to her waiting arms. Revelling in the new freedom, her hands returned to his chest, imitating his caresses of her breasts.
His hand however, moved across the velvet-like plain of her firm, tautly muscled belly and covered the golden forest of silky strands hiding her pussy. Teasing a finger along the quivering pink lips of her cunt, he elicited a series of piteous whimpers from her throat. The cries grew in pleasure as his fingertip touched the extended tip of her clitoris. Her hips jerked forward demanding more attention to the sensuous button. He obliged, lightly rolling the pleasure centre as he tickled another finger into her vagina. She was wet in her excitement, a rainforest of excitement.
Her excitement was his. His cock, thick and straining in its erection, jerked and throbbed at his groin. He could feel the wetness of preseminal fluids washing over the gorged bead of his prick. Suddenly, he noticed her eyes had drifted to his crotch and were locked in on his massive dick.
"Milord!" she purred in a desirous murmur, her fingertips reaching down to tenderly brush the extended length of his rigid manhood. "You are a man! Such a mighty man! Never have I seen such a huge… Ohhhhhh!"
Her words were cut short as his finger began to move in and out of her cunt in a motion that announced things to come. His other finger swirled around her clit, bathing it in her own lubricants.
To add to the stimulation, he lowered his lips to an up thrusting nipple. His tongue, teeth and lips worked simultaneously, whipping the girl to a frenzy. She shoved her chest toward his face, burying him in very womanly flesh.
"Milord, please," she begged, her words interspersed between moans of wanton desire. "Please! Please let me feel that stallion's shaft of yours!"
Her hand tightly grasped his cock squeezing and jerking along its pulsing length. Her body was afire with a consuming passion and demanded his cock buried deep within her belly.
Guided by her urging hand on his buttocks, he slipped atop her, then raised himself to the height of his arms, hovering above the girl, delighting in her ecstasy-bathed face. Her hand maneuvered the thick column of meat she clutched to the quivering lips between her thighs.
She moaned as the turgid glans pulsed along the slit of her vulva.
"Now, milord!" she panted. "Give it to me now! All in one quick thrust!"
Almost directed by her words, his hips jerked forward. The arrowhead of his cock homed through the outer lips of her labia, easily splaying the scalloped pink folds of her inner lips and drilling into the hot recesses of her humid vagina.
Now it was his turn to groan. His prick was caught in a vise of velvet-covered steel. For an instant he thought he'd crammed his cock into her ass. So tight was he packed into the woman, he would have thought it was impossible, a dream-fantasy of some schoolboy, if he wasn't experiencing it now.
He didn't move, afraid he might split this most willing girl. But she did! Her legs locked around him and her pelvis bunched up, driving his rock-hard shaft deeper into her molten core. He groaned again. She eased back, then threw her hips forward once again in an attempt to engulf his straining manhood even further.
His hips began to rotate, almost of their own volition. In strong, deep-deep-grinding motions his pestle of flesh churned within the clinging confines of her cunt. He looked down at the girl, who smiled back at him, then began to rotate her own hips in the opposite direction to his.
Shifting his position slightly, he eased the throbbing length of his sex from the more-than-virgin-tight cuntal channel. A long moan came in answer to his movement. Without hesitation, he heaved forward, driving his cock straight up into her belly. She groaned with wild desire as the blood-filled head of his sexual javelin sought to spear into her womb.
She twisted and writhed, tightening and relaxing the strong muscles that lined the walls of her vagina.
Again and again he withdrew and thrust, until her body was completely at his command; until she followed his movements with perfect timing; until she seemed to know which attack he would take next and then accommodate it.
He had never had such a partner before. It was as if she knew what he was going to do before he did. While she was obliviously soaring in a world of carnal pleasure, she seemed to devote every ounce of her strength to providing him every iota of sensual delight her body contained. He had never believed such a woman existed, only dreamt of such a wanton creature.
Over and over they hunched together, with her fucking him as much as he fucked her. Together they whipped each other to the heights of sensuality, wracking each other with rapture so that only incoherent groans escaped their lips.
In a sudden movement, which she met with uncanny timing, his hands slid beneath her ass. His fingers dug into the yielding demi-globes. He jerked up. She coordinated her action to his upthrust. Together they buried his cock securely into the hot tight channel of her cunt.
He felt the taut walls of the fleshy sheath constrict with unimaginable strength, clamping down on his sliding rod, refusing to let it leave.
Her breath was coming in short, excited gasps. She was on the verge of a consuming orgasm, and he felt the volcanic blaze spreading from his loins throughout his already tense body. She twisted slightly, changing the angle of entry for his pulsing shaft. He slid deeper.
Her small twitch was all she needed. Writhing and twisting like a wild woman, she came. Her groans were loud and echoed the complete fulfilment that flooded every cell of her body.
Her fiery vagina began to contract and relax around every inch of his lust-laden cock. The pressure increased in his testicles. It was unbelievable. Her own orgasmic reactions were milking him toward release. Holding back the demanding flood for as long as his will power and muscle control could, he soaked in the liquid heat of her imploding body.
Then the trembling walls of control tumbled and he came. Prodigiously.
His back arched and he strained forward seeking to cram his prodding rod even deeper into her so very tight cunt.
The burning rush of semen and sperm that boiled up from his balls surprised him. But come he did-in blast jets of thick lava-hot cream, that splattered the contracting walls of her vagina, coating them with his seed.
Unable to maintain the strength in his arms under the draining release, he collapsed atop the woman beneath him. She groaned with pleasure, locking her arms around his back and holding him as he rocked in violent climax.
Exhausted and fulfilled, they rolled to their sides, still joined in their intimate union, enjoying the feel of each other. Neither spoke.
Instead their hands tenderly caressed and their lips lightly brushed thank-you's.
He regained a bit of his strength after such arduous lovemaking and his penis had deflated to a limp sleeping snake. The whole experience he had just undergone hit him in a delayed shock reaction. Hell, he didn't even know the name of this beautiful woman lying in his arms.
"Excuse me, uh… " he broke the silence.
"Terri, my lord," she added for him. "My name's Terri."
"Terri?" he puzzled. "I once knew a girl named Terri in my homelands, but that was many, many years ago."
"Was she pretty, milord?" she coyly questioned.
"Quit fishing for compliments, wench," Ponkert scolded. "She was very pretty. But you are beautiful." Whereupon he showed the truth of his statement with a long, lingering kiss.
"But as I started off, a moment ago-I'm new to your lands and was wondering if you'd mind answering a few of the questions puzzling me?" he said as their lips parted.
"I would only be too glad to be of service, milord," she replied. "What is it you wish to know?"
"First off, what do you call this land?" Ponkert questioned.
Terri stared at him. "Why, milord, I call it home."
"Home? Does it not have another name?" he pressed, somewhat perplexed by her answer.
"Another name? Not that I know of" she replied.
"Okay," he said, realizing he was stalemated on that point. "What can you tell of the man I found trying to rape you?"
Now her face twisted slightly in puzzlement, "Why, milord, that was Sir Yngvi. He lives in a castle of iron a few kilometers from here."
"So Yngvi is the bastard's name," Ponkert mused. "I suppose you are some princess the black knight was carrying off to his castle to lock away in a tower?"
"Oh, no, milord!" Terri quickly corrected. "I am a scullery maid and I work in Sir Yngvi's castle. I was simply walking in the woods when Yngvi came upon me. He was just fooling around. I probably would've submitted had it been anyone else. But I'd rather be had by an epileptic pig than Sir Yngvi!"
Ponkert laughed at the girl's disgust with her employer. "Yes, I'll admit he did look a bit like the results of a Mongolian grudge fuck!"
"Listen!" Terri quieted him, placing her fingers to his lips.
He did, but beard nothing. "What's the matter?"
"Horses, milord! Listen!" she replied.
Once again he followed her instruction and heard the dull, hollow sound of numerous hooves striking the ground.
"Quickly, milord," Terri urged. "Yngvi returns with all his cohorts!"
Before Ponkert could reply, the girl had scrambled to her feet, grabbed up her thin dress from the ground and darted into the dense forest.
Ponkert turned toward the direction of the hooves. A hasty glance at a band of heavily armed and armored knights riding over one of the hills and Ponkert decided to follow his new found lover. Better to run today and live to fight tomorrow, if need be.
Catching up with the still nude Terri, he caught her by the waist with one arm and hastened her deeper into the woods. Once the shadows were thick enough to cloak them in darkness, he pulled the girl behind a broad trunk of one of the ancient oaks. Together they peered back to the clearing, where the black-clad Yngvi and six men in his crew had dismounted. All had broad-swords strapped to their waists and carried bucklers. In addition, one of the burly looking soldiers carried a huge double-bladed battle axe. Ponkert suddenly realized he had left his sword at the site of Terri's and his love making.
"Knave!" Yngvi yelled, his voice echoing through the forest. "Let me have the girl, or I'll chop you to mincemeat and feed the pieces to the crows!"
Ponkert's stomach did one, or two, or four sickening flip-flops. He stared at the awesome array of weaponry, helplessly wondering how he could possibly fight all of them for Terri? There was no way he could take them all on and hope to win. He suddenly yearned for his laser rifle securely berthed in his escape pod.
"What will they do to you if they catch you?" he asked the girl beside him. "Kill you?"
She shook her head. "No, nothing that final! They will all probably take their pleasure with me, then leave me tied spread-eagled beside the road so that all passing wayfarers can take their pleasure also… "
She paused and looked at him. "They will kill you though, if they find you."
Ponkert shivered involuntarily. The prospect of ending his life as mincemeat for a flock of crows was far from pleasant.
"Where does this forest lead?" he asked.
"To Yngvi's castle," she answered.
He shivered again.
"I'd better go out and let them have me," Terri said. "When they are gone, you can come and we'll leave together."
"No," Ponkert ordered. The thought of seeing the girl gangbanged wasn't his cup of tea either. It was obvious his adversaries were not connoisseurs of genteel erotic arts. "Just give me a few moments to think!"
As he turned back for another look at his opponents, the girl whispered,
"I'm sorry, milord. You are goodly hung, but this I must do to save you from yourself!"
Ponkert never saw the rock the naked girl brought down on the back of his head. He only felt the crashing blow, then slumped to the green carpet beneath his feet, unconscious.