Tenebrous

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300 years in the future, military sex is a way of life.
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"Hey! Oi, hey! Jace!"

A brown head of hair rumbled with a disgruntled moan, fighting against the waking hours that were fast approaching after less than half of one asleep. His fight was lost when the speaker yanked him from his cot and dumped him on the cold, soft ground of his tent.

Jace glared up at the man with reddened eyes and looks that could kill.

He just grinned in response and jerked his thumb toward the exit. "Commander wants to see you."

Jace's eyes widened as he was suddenly wide awake. "You're kidding, right?

"Nope. Probably wants to discuss something about the mission, and other than her, you're the best tactician we got."

Jace screwed his eyes up tightly and banged his head against the soft moss under his body several times. "I'm on my way."

"She knows," the other man chuckled.

The brown-haired man pushed himself upright and made for the exit, his fatigues and boots already on thanks to wartime protocol. The mobile command booth was in sight in moments, with two heavily armed and armored guards flanking the entrance at all times except when in motion. Their rifle barrels parted as soon as he closed to around ten feet, and they allowed him inside without a single word, as per their training.

The moment Jace stepped inside, he knew something was wrong. For one, the lights were all off, and Commander Ophelia always made a point never to let that happen, so either she wasn't there yet or-

"Hello, Jace," a soft, sensual voice purred from behind him.

The man froze and tightened his jaw as he stood ramrod straight at attention, snapping a salute to the otherwise empty air. "Sir!"

A light, breathy chuckle answered him. "Put that hand down before I make you," the voice said with no particular negativity. "Trust me, tempting as it is to be made to restrain you, I don't want our first time to be like that."

Jace blinked hard and furrowed his brows in confusion. "Our...first time, sir?" His eyes widened. "Oh God...you can't be serious." He turned around to face a feminine form completely concealed in shadow, only its silhouette visible thanks to the low light. He jabbed a thumb into his chest. "Me? You chose me?"

The ghost of a smile drifted over the apparition's lips as she approached him, reddish-brown eyes dancing with unvoiced laughter as she sauntered toward him, hips rocking with every step. Jace gulped carefully and made sure to keep his eyes on hers, trying desperately to fight against the intense shocks between his legs. A pair of lithe, smooth arms went around his lightly tanned neck as his mostly bare arms felt warm skin pressed against them.

"Who else?" her voice purred. "The others are...honorable and brave...but boring."

She gripped his regulation-length hair and pulled it back to arch his neck, which fell victim to the attentions of her tongue and lips.

His heart fluttered and hammered in his chest until he thought it would explode.

"I-I can't...I've never-"

"Never what? Done this before?"

He gulped hard and nodded, eyes closed.

She tipped his head toward her face, forcing him to look into her eyes as they bore holes into his with their ravenous intensity. "Going to let you in on a little secret." She drew closer and lightly closed her teeth around Jace's earlobe before whispering. "I know."

His brown eyes widened.

"I've always known. Which is why I chose you." She drew back, but only slightly, only enough to look him in the eyes. "You're inexperienced, and therefore unsullied by presumptions and preferences. A blank canvas to be explored and painted with every hue imaginable." Her perfect red lips drew back to show equally perfect teeth. "And as you well know, I am a master painter." She put a finger to his lips when he again tried to protest. "You are superior starting material, and as such will end at a superior location."

Her lips and teeth and tongue all worked at his neck and collarbone in tandem, hands drifting over his body to end at his bottom as her torso pressed against his. It was when he felt two hard points pressing against his chest that he let out a small, toneless moan and fully realized how very naked his commander was.

She smiled at his response, ceasing her ministrations to look up into his eyes. "Just let me do all the work, handsome..." her thigh pressed lightly against his crotch, "and I'll turn you into a masterpiece."

He gulped again, shifting uneasily at the pressure on his covered erection. "Sir, I don't know-"

She put a finger to his lips. "Stop thinking about your inadequacies, Corporal, and submit. Enjoy yourself." Her eyes hardened just for a moment, voice taking on a commanding tone for the first time in their meeting. "That's an order."

And with that, the tension left his frame and his eyes rolled up into his head, a soft moan leaving his lips. "Yes, sir," he managed.

Tallis Ophelia just grinned and pulled him by the collar, pushing him to the ground and watching as he sunk partway into a thick bed of Hycan moss, brown eyes staring up at her body unabashedly as she loomed over him. A low purr came from her lips as her lithe, slightly taller body curled around and adhered to his.

"Eyes open, closed...I guarantee you're going to enjoy this."

Her nimble fingers danced over his body, hitting nerve endings and pleasure centers he didn't even know he had as his eyes rolled back into his head. He didn't even know she'd removed his clothes until her soft hand was lightly gripping his hard member. A warm, teasing laugh came from her throat as his breath hitched.

"Though not, I think, as much as I will."

And then her mouth lowered over him, and he was gone.

...

Okay...maybe I should back up a bit. On reflection, it seems a bit unfair to just throw you into the action without context, so...listen carefully.

The year is 2287.

From the perspective of someone like you, someone from the 21st century, one might wonder whether humanity has evolved in the last 200-plus years. Evolved past all the base instincts and savagery and violence that's colored our history since the dawn of civilization. To someone like that, here's my question?

Are you fucking kidding me?

You think just because we've gained the power to travel faster than light or extend our lifespans to well over a century, or cure cancer or birth defects and deadly illnesses that would've crippled your world, that we've somehow "transcended" all that icky shit? I won't say that we haven't evolved, but the truth is, evolution is applied to all things, no matter the race, gender, or species. It's the nature of...well...nature to grow toward and around conflict.

So where we've learned to cure diseases and explore the stars, we've also figured out how to create high-energy plasma and mass accelerators and weapons of such unquantifiable scale that "mass destruction" doesn't even begin to do them justice. And you know the age-old question that's plagued our species since...well, forever? Turns out we're not alone in this universe. And our interstellar neighbors aren't all bad. But as with any population, they're far from all good too.

Which is where I, and others like me, come in.

After we took to the stars and discovered new forms of sentient life among their expanse, humanity's nations splintered off and experienced population explosions. You'd have thought that almost 300 years later, we'd finally have resolved our differences and formed a united government. You'd be wrong. The former European Union and NATO formed the Terran Alliance. Cliche, I know, but you know humans-stupid and obstinate and prone to stereotype.

Everyone else formed various splinter and exploratory consortiums, some unlikely allies forming amongst the chaos. Bottom line: the Terrans essentially became the peacekeepers anywhere humanity decided to put down roots. Even nations and factions that had hated the peoples that made up the Alliance began to see their value, especially when the Metrion Wars started. Now, before I get into that particularly dark piece of our history, I should tell you that conflict between human factions is far from over.

We're a fickle, idiotic race that feeds on violence, so naturally, we can't avoid it amongst ourselves from time to time. But one thing I want to make abundantly clear is that we are never prey. Even when just starting out on the galactic stage, our race stood tall and firm and held fast against a vastly "superior" and more experienced foe, the Metrion Syndicate.

To sum up about five decades of history-an old, unloved, bitter race called the Metrions came along one morning and ran across a new form of life, us, and thought, "Hey, why don't we make these guys' day go to shit by causing this nearby sun to cook them alive? It'd make for great TV!"

So they try. Problem: the first outpost they ever attacked was a military science settlement tasked with exploring the unknown universe. Translation: brainy and brawny. Within minutes of their scanners reading solar instability, they'd scrambled fighters and science cruisers to cripple the Metrion vessel and fix the sun. Both missions were successful, with flying colors. The staff of that outpost were considered heroes.

Until a fleet of over a hundred Metrion warships dropped out of FTL in the Sol system.

Fifty years later, with millions of deaths on both sides and assistance from several third parties, the Metrion Syndicate was repelled and humanity's place among the stars secured. But in those five decades, a lot changed. First and foremost, the Terran Alliance became something of a...benevolent dictatorship. When shove comes to bullet, humans always rally around a single leader, and Remy Ducasse was our man.

Not so important for what's happening at the moment, but I thought you should know that as far as humanity is concerned, hierarchy is now law. And that applies at every level of government and military. During the Metrion Wars, soldiers throughout the Alliance began to chafe under the constrictions of old regulations, especially when it came to socialization with their comrades. From their point of view, and eventually everyone else, if they were going to die horrible deaths on obscure worlds most of humanity would never even see, they were gonna die happy, free from restrictions.

And so all limits and bans on fraternization were summarily burned at the stake, along with any sort of fidelitous restrictions imposed by the law. Distractions got soldiers killed, and in a military that boasted more than the same number of fine women to men, nothing got more distracting than a boner. I mentioned earlier that we hadn't really evolved much as a species, behavior wise. But physically? Didn't matter if you were born ugly as a Dharian larva. If you exercised and consistently kept in shape, pushed your body to the limit, you might as well have been born a model.

Gender was irrelevant. Only actions mattered, and since our soldiers were trained and ruthlessly pushed to the brink of sanity where their physicality was concerned, we all became the newest recruiting prospects for modeling and advertising agencies everywhere (even among some alien races). So, you begin to see how distracting this could be for everyone involved. Enhanced, broken, younger, older-didn't matter. If you were human and a soldier, you had the body of a man or woman in their early twenties-with all the corresponding physical drives.

So contraceptives became standard-issue to every field unit, installed via implants on every single soldier upon enlistment, for the entirety of their period of service. And before you think we just started fucking everything in sight, know that human physical drives haven't changed in the last 300 years, powerful but not irresistible...for most. That said, every unit also got issued olfactory suppressants-to cover up the almost constant smell of sex and prevent it from lighting a beacon to our enemies.

Out of everyone in the military, though, the guys and girls who got the most action by far...were the commanders. Any officer in any kind of powerful position pretty much had their pick of the litter, and rare was the chosen grunt who complained about the attention. This practice became so common that most commanders developed a reputation, for their tastes and methods and everything they would do-or make their partner/partners do. Suddenly, our success rates against the enemy skyrocketed, and of course, since statistics never lie, we decided it was best for the tradition to continue into the indefinite future.

Which is where you find me, Jason Tyreson. Pinned to the ground with my explosively hot commander's head between my legs. God, they'd been waiting so long for her to pick a partner since getting her command, but for months, no dice. Which was surprising, considering the reputation she had for voracious appetites. What I'd failed to realize going into that meeting was that her reputation wasn't for fucking a lot of men.

It was for fucking a very select few men...a lot.

Now, you might be wondering, "Jace old boy, why do we still need a military if the Metrions have backed off?" The answer, my friend, is that nature feeds on conflict. And as long as life exists, so will war. Right then, though, war was the absolute last thing on my mind...or it might've been if I could've formed a single coherent thought.

...

A series of loud moans only served to get louder and louder as the commander's head bounced on his member, her nose bumping his pubes every time as she consistently took his full length. Her long, slippery tongue wrapped partway around his erection, stroking its length as it bent forward and backward in sequence. Jace's eyes rolled back into his head once more as his hands stroked her chocolate-colored hair, her soft, fair skin brushing the tips of his fingers every so often.

"Oh God," he breathed as a spike of pleasure lanced through his crotch.

She smiled around his manhood and went back down, the tip of his cock vanishing even further down her throat as her tongue reached even further down and tickled the gap between his balls. His fingers tightened in her hair as his entire body tensed up. A low chuckle rumbled through her throat, the vibrations felt through his cock as her hands pried his weakened ones from her head. Slowly, her head drew off his manhood, sucking lightly every inch of the way until her mouth slipped off his nine-inch member with a quiet pop.

The pointed tip of her tongue slipped into the gap of his glans as a fine line of drool fell over the shaft, one hand lightly rubbing it in as the other reached for a nearby pouch. With Jason's eyes still closed, Commander Ophelia grinned like a cat and rose off him, leaving the younger man in suspense as she moved her pussy over his crotch and gently took his hands in hers. She guided them to the perfectly rounded and defined cheeks of her ass as her body lowered, not a single point of contact guiding his cock into her soaking wet love hole.

A breathless gasp left his lips as his eyes snapped wide open and locked onto her amused ones. His hands groped and massaged her ass as she ground against him, not lifting her hips in the slightest but feeling his rock-hard shaft squirming around inside her all the same and reveling in every moan and hitch of his breath. She hadn't voiced a single noise of pleasure apart from purring and the occasional spurt of laughter, but Tallis preferred it that way, for the first time at least.

She'd demonstrate her superiority first, show her partner the heights of pleasure she could take them to and bombard them with more ecstasy than they could handle until they came to the border of passing out. Sometimes-perhaps less often than she'd have liked-she'd overdo it, push too far and actually make them pass out. And then she'd chuckle, tie their limbs spread eagled, and keep fucking them while unconscious until either they woke or she got bored.

Tallis rarely got bored.

Something about the soft, supple flesh of men combined with their hard edges and contours appealed to her in ways that no men and most women would never understand. She absolutely loved exploiting every inch of them, pushing and pleasuring them to the edge of sanity. As a point of fact, she'd been transferred out of her first command because her partner had been so completely used that he'd nearly developed psychological issues. The same had repeated again and again until High Command finally got the pattern and transferred her every couple of months. Hence, why she was nicknamed the Nomad.

But yes...men were delicious. And when they came...God, there was no pleasure worth compare. When they exploded in her mouth or pussy or ass, filling her holes until their seed leaked out. Or better yet, until they started to run out, and she kept milking them anyway. At one point, Ophelia had possessed an actual milking machine that she'd modified to fit the male anatomy, but after accidentally leaving a partner in it for over six hours and nearly rendered him unconscious due to dehydration, it had been summarily confiscated and she transferred.

As she reached down and felt the pressure building in Jason's balls, she wished so badly that she still had that milker. With a feral grin, she leaned over him, pinning his wrists to the ground and using them for support as she humped his slippery cock. So young...and a virgin to boot, Tallis had a feeling this soldier would be a cum fountain, given the chance. As her bouncing continued at an increasingly frenzied pace, she intended to find out.

The corporal moaned and groaned and grunted beneath her, eyes opening and closing haphazardly as his arms tried to move but were unable due to both her position of strength and the weakness his pleasure was creating. That, and the fact that she could probably have restrained him standing up. His legs and hips started to move, roughly at first, but finding her rhythm after a while and timing his movements to her downward thrusts for maximum penetration.

Unexpectedly and partially against her will, the first perfectly synchronized thrust tore an ecstatic moan from Tallis' throat, and her reddish-brown eyes flashed with both surprise and fury as she felt her body betray her. A low growl came from her throat as her grip around his wrists tightened painfully and his breath caught as a result. Unfortunately, that also caused his hips to spasm at the exact right time, and he slammed into her again as she came down, harder than last time.

The head of his cock squished against her cervix, quite the feat for anyone less than ten inches, and he kept thrusting rather weakly as the pleasure and pressure built within his body. Frustrated by his refusal to submit, Tallis dragged her sharp nails across his arms, chest, and back, leaving behind angry red welts and causing him to hiss and groan in pain and pleasure as she fucked him speechless. Of course, he hadn't said a coherent word since she'd given him head, but that was besides the point.

Her teeth gritted as she felt pleasure build between her own legs. She needed to end this, now.

Her palms braced against his chest as she lifted her knees to pin his legs to the ground, preventing any more thrusts. And then she dropped onto him, again and again and again as his moans steadily approached a fever pitch. Her pussy tightened around and gripped his manhood hard with every bounce, milking every drop of precum from his young, virile body. She reached down once more and felt his balls tighten and contract. Knowing he was near climax, she increased her pace to one almost exclusively achieved by machines and her pussy's suction to that of a black hole.

Which was the exact moment his now-free hands decided to pinch and pull on her hard, swollen nipples.

Her eyes flashed with surprise and panic as she moaned loudly, pleasure shooting through every inch of her from her tits to her toes, all of it stopping briefly at her pussy before going on its way. Within seconds, she knew something was wrong, but failed to fully identify the cause until it was too late. Her frenzied pace, combined with Jace's ministrations and the way his pubic bone kept brushing her clit on every thrust, caused a massive pressure to build in her sopping cunt.

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