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  “I used to fantasize about Zent cornering me, usually in my bedroom. At night. I’d still have on my bathing suit, and he would start fondling my breasts until I let him take off my top. Then he would kiss me, his lips demanding. Pretty soon he pinches my nipples, his body pressing harder and harder against mine. His cock becomes rigid and huge. He starts shoving off my bathing suit bottom, and I’m saying no, no, no. I feel compelled to say no, and to struggle, even though I don’t actually try to stop him. Despite my telling him no, he continues and his manhood enters, pinning me against the wall, making love to me. Those were some of the best orgasms I had back then.” Wendra peered at Riselda over the glass. “Tame, I know, but you asked about Zent.”

  “Tame,” Riselda repeated. Lifting her glass, she absently rubbed the rim over her bottom lip.

  “Your tamest fantasy?” Wendra prompted.

  “I’m hiking near a stream in a sparsely wooded area. A man grabs me from behind, accusing me of trespassing on his land. He insists I must pay the price. Grabbing my arm, he guides me to his cabin. We make love and I do mean make love, not only lust. It’s a marathon session of several days. Of course, I end up not wanting to leave.” She smiled, a dreamy look on her face. “Time for another drinkie.” Tipping up her glass, Riselda took a healthy sip.

  Wendra drew in a tiny amount, swirling it around her tongue. Who knew when she’d ever taste whiskey this good again, or if?

  “Zion, ever fantasize about him?” Riselda cracked a small knowing smile.

  Shaking her semi-loose hair back, Wendra searched her memory. “I’m riding behind him on his motorcycle, the wind in my face, feeling completely exhilarated, so free and carefree. I’m holding on tight and he feels sexy as hell. I know he wants me by the tension of his body, like a strung arrow. I don’t know where we’re going because he hasn’t told me.”

  “Tell me what he wants to do to you,” Riselda prodded. Her coffee-colored eyes gleamed with expectation.

  “We arrive at his family’s vacation home on the lake. The moment he dismounts he sweeps me into his arms, kissing me deeply, hungrily. He wraps my hair around his fist and tightens his hold so I can’t escape the assault of his mouth on mine. When I’m weak at the knees, he scoops me up into his arms and carries me inside. I am hot, burning for him, craving his every touch. Before I know it, my jacket is gone and he practically rips off my top. His hands blaze strokes up my bare flesh. And he handles my breasts in a way that makes me crazy with need. Suddenly, he manacles my wrists inside his hand and holds my arms above my head. His mouth seizes mine and I feel a soft rope looped around my wrists. I’m helpless, trapped, almost hanging by the rope. My body is stretched before him, all his. I witness him devouring my bared flesh with his gaze. And I know this is just how he wants me. He makes quick work of taking off my boots and my pants. His hands are smooth, yet utterly possessive.”

  “The good part.” Riselda squirmed.

  “He kneels, his tongue diving through the seam of my kwim. He taunts my clit, spearing with the point of his tongue until I writhe with orgasm. Oh, God, then he pries my legs apart, holds them wide and buries his cock in me, oh so hard. His manhood is so long and large and he’s relentless as he takes me.”

  Wendra squeezed her eyelids tight. “I’d forgotten that fantasy until now. Your turn. Any bondage fantasies?”

  “Let’s see. That’s not my thing. The only fantasy that comes close is the one with Derrik. His cock always became rock-fucking hard whenever he spanked me. And I would fantasize about how I wanted him to spank me then tease him with it. You know, whisper in his ear, torment him all day until he’d growl and rise up like a barbarian. He’d stomp toward me, capture me as I tried to escape then haul me over his lap. This one time he captured my wrists with one of his huge rough hands. He landed blow after blow on my ass as I fought him, moving like a wild woman on top of those damn hard thighs of his. God, I don’t think I’ve ever been hotter for sex in all my life. Afterwards, we fucked the daylights out of each other. Neither of us could move for several hours.” Her face glowing with the memory, she took a swallow of her whiskey.

  Wendra bit back an impetuous question and tipped up her glass, letting the sweetly scalding whiskey pour on her tongue. She’d almost asked about Derrik. Chances were he was long dead or long gone. There was little to no communication with the outside world, especially on a personal basis. In Chrontropolis proper the com lines remained far from reliable.

  “I have to ask. Can’t leave out the man who wants to marry you, can I? Zotorro?”

  Wendra rocked back on her stool, vividly remembering. “He used to rescue me in the action-adventure stories I made up. Often, I wouldn’t know it was him. He’d be dressed all in black, only revealing his face once we escaped.”

  “Go on. What has he done in your fantasies that he hasn’t done to you yet?”

  Wendra heaved in a breath, summoning her will to speak the truth. “Forced seduction,” she murmured, barely above a whisper. She glanced at Riselda to see if she’d heard.

  Silently, Riselda scrutinized her face, her own gaze shrewd, but certainly not condemning. “In one of my acting classes we plumbed the depths of the feminine psyche, you know, to make us better actors. Truth, Wendra, I delved into every scientific study and tome I could find. I almost changed my path in life, thinking I should become a counselor or something like that. I found out soon enough there was way too much political shit involved in the profession. That’s beside the point, though. Tell me one specific fantasy. I’ll assume the time or times Zotorro made love to you was good.”

  Wendra rubbed the outside of the glass with her fingertips, feeling numb and empty inside. “It was good, more than good. I dreamily-enjoyed every second of it.”

  “It wasn’t enough,” Riselda stated.

  “No. No, it wasn’t.” Wendra hugged herself with one arm. “Sometimes I think that’s the reason I haven’t officially accepted his marriage proposal. Although, that’s not true. First, I wanted to develop my career. It wouldn’t have mattered who asked. Also, Zotorro needed time to grow up, find his own way. And now...”

  “Disaster, disaster everywhere. Doom and death ever near,” Riselda quoted.

  Nodding, Wendra rubbed her arm as if she chased sudden chills away. “There’s always this feeling of restlessness that stays with me, this need blistering inside me.”

  “You want to be claimed, Wendra. In fact, you need it to be truly happy.” At Wendra’s stunned look, Riselda continued. “Look, at its core it breaks down this way. Some women want to be claimed and some women want to claim their man or the husband of their choice. They’ll go to great sneaky, even ingenious lengths to make the man think he’s the one in charge, the one doing the claiming. You’ve seen it before.”

  “Marssi is the queen. She can work a man like no woman I’ve seen.”

  “She is the queen.” Riselda laughed briefly. “My, my, mister, you have the most amazing muscles. May I touch?” she imitated.

  Softly snorting a laugh, Wendra straightened, gripping the glass between her fingertips. “And you like claiming men.”

  “I do.” Riselda tossed her curtain of wavy locks, her gaze glittering enthusiastically. “Although, it’s my version of claiming. I like the man to claim me back. If he doesn’t, it’s goodbye, at least eventually.”

  “At times I envy women like Marssi. Mostly I don’t care. I’ve never had any desire whatsoever to handle men that way.” Wendra fiddled with her glass, her insides mushy confusion. “Since we’re being candid, actually, it makes me nauseous to think about being that way.”

  “Marssi represents the extreme end of women who claim men and who usually claim a man who has that sexual need as part of his core psyche.”

  “Being claimed, that seems to be at odds with my desire to remain independent, to keep my career as a dancer.”

  Riselda languorously shrugged, then reached around for the whiskey bottle. After pouring more in her glass, she held out the bo
ttle. Wendra placed her glass beneath the opening and let herself be mesmerized by the glistening flow of dark amber.

  “Spectrum effect. Marssi is one end. I’m on the other. You, redhead, are a strong independent woman who wants to be sexually claimed by a man who is a natural dominant. More than that, you need the right man to forcibly seduce you as one part of the intimacy you share with him.”

  Wendra sizzled strangely, and felt a whirl of conflicting emotions. She also raged with arousal, her clit twitching strongly several times. She squirmed. “Long ago I read a book about the mating habits of animals. There was one statement I’ve never forgotten. When a female wants to submit to a male she challenges him. It was in the section about the Big Cats.”

  “Yep, so the male will act on his dominant instincts.”

  “That’s what I do in my fantasies about Zotorro. I challenge him.”

  “You still owe me that fantasy, Miss Flame.”

  “I do.” Wendra stared into the bottom of her glass.

  “Don’t think. Tell me the one you thought of first.”

  Jerking in a breath, Wendra looked up. “We’ve just returned from riding his dragonhorses and are finished taking care of them. We’re still inside the adobe stable where it’s dark and cool. He doesn’t want me to leave yet even though I need to or I’ll be late arriving at the dance club. We spied on the men rustling the wild herds and he’s worried they have followed us back. I insist and spin around to leave. He seizes me from behind, carrying my struggling body back into the privacy of the feed room. I’m viciously angry, fighting him all the way. Finally he’s had enough, falling with me onto a stack of hay. He ends up ripping off my clothes and pinning me beneath him. I’m still furious as he kisses me forcefully.”

  Wendra stopped, drawing in a huge breath. “The good part. He knows how to conquer my kwim. His fingers manipulate my clit, tease my folds and plunge inside my sheath until I can’t stand it anymore. The pleasure is savage and incredible. I start to give in, but not totally. Keeping me trapped, he frees his cock, knees my thighs apart and strikes inside me. So boldly.” Wendra shivered for a moment, noticing how wet her kwim had become. “He lunges in and out until I surrender and climax.” Straightening, she semi-stretched, careful not to spill the whiskey. “A bonus fantasy, if you want it.”

  “Give it to me.”

  “Sometimes I fantasize about being in another world where I battle a man naked. We fight for a long time before he can overpower me then take me as he wants. Now you, what fantasy don’t you want me to know about?”

  Riselda swirled the whiskey in her glass for several moments. “I have two men as my slaves. Two muscle-bound men, one with pale skin and one with dark skin. They attend to my every decadent pleasure, of course. I love fantasizing about being sandwiched between them. Standing up and in bed, wherever, while they perform all sorts of raw delicious sex acts on me. Shit, the orgasms I’ve had even on a bad day. I’m hot as your superpower, fire, thinking about it now.” She tipped up her glass for a deep swallow then glanced fully at Wendra. “Don’t mask it. I see the utter surprise on your pretty mug.”

  “I am surprised,” Wendra admitted. “You’ve heard the rumors going around about some of the supermen brothers. They decide on one woman between them.”

  Riselda nodded once. “I have. Your Zent hasn’t confirmed or denied.”

  “I haven’t asked. It seems too intimate,” she answered Riselda’s raised eyebrows.

  “It seems like an invitation he might accept on behalf of all the Dark Brothers. That is, as I see it from my jaded viewpoint. I’d enjoy digging away at that nugget, but it’s about time to wrap our little party up before you and I land on the floor drunk. One last question, though. Your deepest darkest fantasy, what is it, Wendra?”

  Tilting her head back, Wendra slowly poured the remaining whiskey onto her tongue. With her eyes closed she relished the taste and the mellow pricking burn. “You’re going to really appreciate this one, I think.” Setting the glass on the vanity, she pulled up her legs, hugging them. “I can’t see their faces. Or they don’t have faces. They’re just there, shadow men who do those sex things to you that you don’t even know you want done until they’re doing them to you.”

  “And they’re doing—” Riselda drawled softly.

  “They’ve captured me. I’m struggling against them, of course, trying to fight them off. But they’re holding me down, feeling my naked body, my breasts. Their hands are all over me, my legs, my arms, even my feet. Every inch of me. I’m still trying to fight against them, although it’s useless. One of them slides his finger between my kwim lips, then probes inside my sheath. They make me orgasm over and over with what they’re doing to me. The strange thing, I enjoy the struggle against them, the same way it feverishly arouses me when I battle the man in another world. Even though I’m angry, telling them no, I want them to make me do it. Make me take their cocks.” Wendra trembled wildly for several moments. “I used to feel like there was something wrong with me until I read about women having fantasies they don’t necessarily want to act out.” Uncurling her body, she stretched, and then took a look at Riselda’s face since she hadn’t spoken yet.

  “I think those rumors about the supermen brothers are true.” She drained the rest of the whiskey in her glass.

  “I had those fantasies, or variations on that fantasy before—”

  “Before the world became a hell pit. Before supermen.”

  “Yes, before. Not often, though.”

  “A new super warrior class is being born, or created for our world to defend those of us who can’t fight back. That’s my contention anyway. You’re part of it, redhead. I suppose you want to know my deepest darkest fantasy.”

  “I do. What is it?”

  Riselda placed her glass on the vanity next to her. Her expression became both dreamy and wanton. “I’m astride this magnificent dragonhorse, riding through a wildland forest. Eventually I stop him beside a deep fast-running stream. He drinks when I leap off him and I stroll along the high flat bank. Suddenly I feel a man’s strong arms around me. He sweeps passionate caresses over me and when I turn to him his face isn’t human. Yet he is handsome and similar to the fictional race of people in the Chronicles of Equeszria. Somehow I know he is my dragonhorse now shaped like a man.”

  Raising one leg she planted her foot on the stool, resting her chin on top of her knee. “He says, I am your secret lover. And I will come to you whenever you desire. For, I am yours to command, always.” Riselda smiled softly. “And do I ever command him. My first command to him was to kneel before me and tongue my pussy exactly as I ordered him. He always obeys me, only fucking me when I allow it. Only shooting his seed when I allow it.”

  A natural silence owned the room for a short time.

  Suddenly, Riselda sat back and loosed a loud howling laugh. Wendra couldn’t help smiling along with her. Besides, she whirled with the hazy effects of being close to drunk on her butt.

  “We are opposites, Miss Flame. You want to be ravaged by conquerors who become lovers. I want to be ravaged by a conquered, but devoted lover.” Riselda rose from the stool, lithe as a big cat. “Come on. I’ll convince Vikk to feed you. I can’t let you out of here with your eyes twirling.”

  “My apartment is only a block and a half away.” Wendra protested, knowing Vikk was short on food supplies.

  “Tell you what, we’ll make a deal. If you find a stash of food, you can return the favor.”

  “I will.” Wendra stood, or she tried. Riselda grabbed her arm, steadying her.

  “I should have known you couldn’t hold your liquor, redhead.”

  “That’s your superpower, holding liquor.” Wendra knew she didn’t make sense, yet somehow it made sense to her.

  “I’ll tell you a secret, Miss Flame,” Riselda whispered in her ear, “if you promise me something.”

  “Okay. I promise.”

  “Don’t tell anyone about this friendly little interlude.”

/>   “Okay.”

  “Don’t let on to anyone that we’re now friends. And I am your friend,” Riselda emphasized.

  “Okay. I won’t. Is there a reason?”

  Slowly, Riselda levitated them upwards. They hovered above the floor briefly before thumping back down. “I don’t want anyone else to know.”

  “I understand, believe me.”

  “It just began about a month ago.”

  “Does Vikk know?”

  “Only because it happened when I orgasmed.”

  “How’d he react?”

  “He grabbed me as if he were protecting me from one of those hellacious windstorms we’ve had. Then it hit his funny bone and shrunk his fucking bone. Now he considers it a personal challenge to get me so freakin’ aroused I’ll float. I may have to marry the man, he does it so good.”

  “Wow.” While her mind lit up with Riselda’s revelations, Wendra’s body slid downward, feeling limbless.

  Riselda caught hold of her waist. “If I had any sense I’d find one of those Dark Brothers and tell them to claim you, SlashFlame Kitten.”

  Chapter One

  The Capture of Wendra

  Wendra restlessly twisted on her cot-like bed, slowly emerging from a deep sleep. She resisted for all it was worth, since she didn’t have to get up. Groaning, she ignored the stale smell of her least stinky pillow. She tried snuggling into the large pile of ragged pillows she’d scavenged from wherever she could find them, mostly inside the deserted broken buildings of Chrontropolis.

  Hell, worse, why did she feel like she lay on top of a bed of Goddamn rocks? Wendra knew why, though. Her body burned with tingles and itched in that strange way that meant she could create flame.

  After smacking one yellowed pillow with her fist, she rolled onto her back, resigned to waking up and to facing another nightmarish brutal day. One arm flung over her brow, she kept her eyes shut, unable to face the dull gray that coated everything around her, as if lead dust constantly rained down from the skies.

  “Crap.” Her hand baked, painful spikes of pain shooting up to her fingertips. “A scoop of devil poop