“Hurry,” warned Brandana, “before she gets her voice back and calls for the queen. I heard everything. Believe me, the walls in this palace have ears. If you want to live, come with me. Otherwise stay and die. It’s tradition, after all.”
“How do I know whether I can trust you?” asked Devon. “Death could be preferable to whatever you have to offer. Anything to end this sad existence as a royal puppet.”
“Your choice, but me, I’m off.”
“Wait! Give me a minute.”
“We don’t have a minute.”
“Fine. Something tells me I should trust you.”
“Take a chance,” urged Brandana. “Quickly. For your life, come with me.”
“Brandana,” Talia managed to gasp. “What are you doing? Be quiet at once. Mother!”
* * * *
Devon felt a rush of adrenaline burn his throat. Brandana, it seemed, was the lesser of two evils in his life at present. At least with her, he had a chance at freedom and decided to snatch it. Whether it worked or not, he knew it had to be worth a shot. He disappeared behind the screen, knocking it over, and ran towards a nearby door which Brandana locked swiftly behind them.
Light was poor and dusty in the narrow stone corridor where he found himself but there was little time to stop and look round to gather any bearings. His guide was moving swiftly and he followed with equal haste. Eventually the corridor placed them via a secret entrance into Brandana’s quarters; a small room with low ceiling but which smelled invitingly tropical.
“Follow me!” she exclaimed and disappeared into the square laundry chute entrance, grabbing first a long, black, cylindrical bag which was ready packed at its side.
Devon had no time to think. As always, his life was out of control but this time he was enjoying it because it tasted of liberty. Voices nearby began to shout and a general hullabaloo was raised throughout the palace as the alarm was sounded to find the missing bipene. He squeezed his medium sized frame into the laundry chute and let himself go. He whooshed down the smooth metal shaft, his toga crumpling up around his waist, revealing all his glory, letting his backside and rear penis receive stinging friction burns where the metal panels were joined by rivets.
Without warning, Devon plopped out into a pile of dirty laundry where soiled sheets coiled around his arms until he fought his way clear. Brandana was waiting for him with her hands on her hips, looking around, searching for danger with her eager feline senses. She took Devon’s arm, pulled him up and together they ran from the steamy condensation of the laundry room out into the palace grounds and towards the edge of the nearby cliff face. Devon held his breath as Brandana easily launched herself over the cliff edge and began to slide rapidly and roughly down, her heels scraping over the dusty, crumbling soil, scraping loose any rough patches of green scrub growth. He began to tumble rather than make a conscious leap, and soon his bare legs were grazing over the rough ground, his toga no protection whatsoever.
The hill was steep and, although their descent was painful, it was also quick and meant they would not be followed. From the bottom, Brandana dusted herself off and sucked at a raw wound on her wrist whilst checking for the tell-tale dust trails of followers, of which she could luckily see none. Devon had also reached the bottom and was nursing a painful wrenched elbow joint. His white toga was shredded and stained orange from the landscape, red from his wounds, but he felt more alive than ever before.
They had arrived in a large clearing where nothing grew and orange tumbleweeds rolled. Docked nearby was a space cruiser, dark and imposing, a terrifying sight to Devon who had never seen anything like it in his short, sheltered lifespan.
“What is going on?” Devon asked, confused.
“An escape route if you want it.” Brandana ran for the cruiser, catching her breath and his arm while he lagged behind. “Come on!”
A dirty looking man waited in the doorway for them, dressed in tight black leather trousers with a grubby red bandana holding some long, greasy braids away from his narrowed violet eyes. As they hurtled towards his craft, he lifted them both roughly up by the wrists. Brandana hugged him quickly and fiercely. He curled his lip up at Devon and his handlebar moustache twitched, revealing the faint lines of a scar across his chin. Underneath the grease, which smeared across his cheeks after fixing an engine problem whilst he waited, he was actually rather handsome. Absentmindedly, he cleansed his hands over his ripped tee shirt.
“So good to see you, Hans!” Brandana exulted.
“You too, Brandy. Who’s this? Looks like you brought a pretty little decoration for the Christmas tree.”
“Leave him alone, he’s alright. His name’s Devon, right? He’s been through enough and he’s with us now. How about you? What’s the situation?”
“It’s been a rough few years on Jendo without you,” Hans gruffly spoke. “We would have come sooner only the battle took longer than I thought. Lo-City’s still full of pirates who hate Kirslarns.”
“I like your ship. Seems sturdy,” Brandana said, looking around.
Hans proudly said, “Got it from a Ratt Pirate. They always were useless at cards. He didn’t let it go easily, though.”
“Devon, meet my little brother,” Brandana introduced Devon and Hans shook his hand fiercely. “We’re from Jendo but we got separated years ago. We used to live in Kirslar and, when the war came and our city got bombarded with sex travellers, our parents sent me here to work for the palace, to keep me safe. Our planets have similar atmospheres. Mother thought I would be happy here.”
“I don’t know why she bothered,” Hans growled. “Brandana’s always been able to look after herself. Anyway, the war cooled off and I decided to come back for her. She’s got fire in her blood, all right. The Ratt Pirate and any Suterons in hiding, better look out now we’re back together.”
“Your elbow, let me see it.” Brandana stretched out Devon’s arm causing him to wince. “This wound doesn’t look good. It’s very swollen. Can you help him, Hans?”
“Of course I can. I can do anything, remember? Come with me, pretty boy, there’s a first aid box on this ship somewhere. Brandana, set a course for Jendo, if you can remember how.”
Chapter Three
Freedom Beckons
While Brandana, Devon and Hans flew away to relative safety, it hit the fan back in the palace in Irella. Queen Uno burst into her daughter’s room to find her on the floor, sobbing her heart out. She immediately sent her guards down the secret passageway to find the others, screeching about how she never trusted that girl, but even though they got close, they returned empty handed apart from sketchy reports of a black space cruiser leaving the planet from the bottom of the dry gulch.
Queen Uno salivated wolfishly over the shaking frame of her shamed daughter. “They will be found! Husband!”
“Oh dear,” he mused in contrast.
“Don’t just stand there! We must find them.”
“I’m afraid they’ve gotten away, my dear. Don’t worry. There are at least a couple of other bipenes almost ready in the compound.”
“That’s not the point! That boy has a contract, a life contract to fulfil. He will marry my daughter, whether he likes it or not. Talia, Talia, tell me true, did he touch you? Did your fingers meet?”
“No, Mother.”
“Ha, that doesn’t matter. He has already set foot into hallowed ground, into our palace and into your bedroom. This is an outrage! A complete insult! I want that boy before me. I’ll make him suffer.”
“Mother, please, if he’s gone, leave it be.”
“Never! He belongs here. We practically raised the boy, for goodness sake. No, I want him back here. He must answer to me before we go any further.”
“But Mother, what about my wedding?”
Uno stroked her daughter with a touch that made Talia shudder. “My dear, you must wait of course. That boy, Devon, will be here again soon, then all can proceed as planned.”
“But Father said…”
“Never mind about that silliness. You will wait. Now, I have heard about a man who offers a bounty hunting service. I think he and I should have a little chat. Right away. There are a couple of people I need him to locate.”
Chapter Four
Like Minded
Devon had been ordered to bed by Hans after he forcibly popped his elbow back into joint by brute force. When Devon declined, Hans shoved him into the bed and growled at him to stay there until further notice. Devon was too tired to argue so lay back on the soft pillow to take in his surroundings.
His room on the cruiser was small, just big enough to take the length of a bed, with a basic wardrobe on the opposite side. A grey, leather- like fabric covered the walls and ceiling and soft linoleum in sky blue provided a warm floor covering. A strip light of blue neon shone at the bottom of the door and, in the event of emergency, these lights would become the crew’s only guide.
His bed was soft and clean; white sheets, white pillow, sky blue blanket. Perhaps Hans had a touch of design genius Devon wondered quietly and reminded himself never to broach that subject with the man. A soft, mysterious white noise, barely audible, filled the craft and created a strangely calming atmosphere. Someone was turning the handle of his door and Devon sat straight up in bed, revealing a strong, muscular, darkly haired torso.
“Can I come in?” Brandana was at the door, her long, white hair swaying gently beside her waist.
“Sure.”
“How are you feeling?”
Devon moved his elbow. “It’s bruised, but nothing much. Your brother did a good job even though I would have preferred a trained doctor and a bit of TLC.”
“He is a trained doctor, pretty much. Before the war came and interrupted everything, Hans had practically finished his training to become a doctor. After the Ratt Pirate and Suteron attacked, he found a better outlet for his skills. Goodness knows how many lives he’s saved in our crusades, and taken, I suppose.”
Brandana stepped into Devon’s room and shut the door furtively. For a while, they were quiet and simply looked at one another. Her tall, serpentine body entranced him, and had done ever since he had first seen her beckoning him to safety. She still wore the black sari which nipped in at her waist and legs and revealed a pair of curvaceous, lightly tanned ankles. Likewise, since their initial meeting Brandana had felt sparks of attraction seeing Devon trussed up ready for consummation in his white toga with gold braid, a complete mismatch to his burly stature, dark glare and rebellious mane.
“Thank you, by the way, for helping me,” Devon nodded.
“Not a problem. We were both in a bad situation.”
“Slaves, both of us. No better,” he said through gritted teeth.
“Not now. Now we are free.” Her empathy skills suddenly latched on to a huge wave of anger from Devon. Brandana decided to change the subject. “So, you are a bipene?”
“Yes, but I’m not like the others.”
“Yes, you have your own mind, don’t you?”
“It’s a blessing and a curse,” Devon admitted. “I could never have submitted to marrying someone just because they were royalty and just because they told me to.”
“That’s admirable,” Brandana smiled.
Devon was relaxed now, free from his bonds and the planet which tried to crush his spirit. Brandana was to thank for that. He felt pangs of arousal for his saviour but tried to keep them secret.
Devon’s lips parted and his tongue showed occasionally as his mouth dried. He felt a touch of moisture forming on the top of both his penises which were getting harder by the second.
“How are you, also?” Devon tried to avert his erotic feelings. “You took a few falls yourself.”
“I don’t know,” Brandana replied and slid down the top half of her sari, revealing spherical breasts and small, erect, lilac nipples. “Will you check me for bruising?”
She steadily approached Devon and lingered at his bedside, longing for his white digits to finger her body. With care, he pushed aside the white mane of hair and smoothed his hand along her ribcage, along the sweeping arc of her hips, down her buttocks. As he did so, the sweet smell of her parted womanhood hit his nose, stiffening his erections tenfold. She had no pubic hair, just sweetly tanned lips which spread slightly outwards like a butterfly cake.
Devon leaned forward and tentatively took a taste of her with his cold, wet tongue, like a hummingbird searching delicately for ambrosia. She shivered with her whole body. His tongue was eager, but controlled, his training at the compound had taught him well, how and where a woman can be pleasured. Each sensitive lap hit the spot and she felt herself melting, spreading herself to let him do his dirty work. To add to her pleasure, he positioned both of his hands aside her, massaging either side of her bare, quivering mound until she wasn’t sure where each wonderful, erotic sensation was coming from.
“Which one do I use?” Brandana asked, ready for more. “I need you inside me.”
“You can use either,” he answered, kissing from her stomach all the way up to her neck, “but I’d like to see your face and be able to kiss you.”
Instinctively, they slid between the sheets, an undeniably fierce heat between them. She pressed herself hard onto him, kneading herself over him, so wet that he slipped right in, stiff and long and deep. Brandana rubbed his back, like she had with former lovers, but suddenly found herself wrapping a tight fist behind his back onto his second penis. The effect was extraordinary, like she was weightless, being rocked back and forth in the womb. His foreskin was soft and pliant and very well lubricated. The more she milked him, the harder he thrust. Brandana felt very safe, with her arms tight around him, locked together, her face buried in his soft chest hair, his lips placing tantalizing kisses upon her erogenous neck. She had never been treated so well between the sheets, so expertly or competently.
Devon was a fantastic lover. Just the right balance between gentleness and bad boy. As she imagined what their two bodies must look like under the sheets, under the stars, she began to climax.
* * * *
Devon felt her quivers immediately for, as she climaxed, he allowed himself to release his clear, spurting semen into her body and over her fists tightly clenched like a new rose behind him, painting her with delicious trickles like an abstract masterpiece.
After a quick tidy up, they lay perfectly still in one another’s warmth, listening to the white noise and their own tumbling thoughts. Devon knew that he had found someone exceedingly special. His kind knew about love immediately and their spectacular, fulfilling sex only served to strengthen his feelings for her. He was about to ask Brandana how she felt about him when she peeled her sweating skin from his.
* * * *
Her empathic skills had alerted her to his thoughts and, though she wanted more time with Devon too, she knew painfully that her brother, her family and the Jendoan cause needed her back with them even more than Devon could ever need her.
“I have to go,” she said. “Mention this to my brother and he will kill you.”
“Brandana,” Devon reached plaintively towards the closing door only to see her sashay away.