Tales From A Darker Star: A Collection Of Science-Fiction Erotica.

By A. Octavia

Each of these erotic short stories gives us a glimpse into the lives of extraordinary people.

In 'Windows Of The Soul', Vane and Shyla are two psychics who pool their talents during one incredible night. At 'The Silver Rose', Morgan gets more than she expected from the hotel masseuse. When Dr. Somers lends 'A Helping Hand' one night at his office, it changes his life. Dana makes a startling discovery at a genetic research facility in 'Eve', and in 'Son Of War' we'll find out if Karen and Jack can share true love before the gods go to war.

• Language: English
• Publisher: A. Octavia
• Release date: Mar 16, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301681242

A. Octavia

From an ancient desk in a sunlit corner of a room, A. Octavia writes about worlds hidden behind a veil of time and cosmic dust. He also writes an Erotic Blog, and hosts an Erotic Podcast available on iTunes and Stitcher."The world is too big and full of everything to close your eyes and do nothing." -A. Octavia.

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Tales From A Darker Star:

A collection Of Science-Fiction Erotica

by A. Octavia

Tales From A Darker Star: A Collection Of Science-Fiction Erotica

by A. Octavia

Copyright 2013 A. Octavia

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Chapter 1: Windows Of The Soul.

It’s funny how some things you remember clearly while others vanish without a trace. Like driving home: there are days when I’d remember every detail of the trip and others when I’d just find myself in my driveway without remembering a single thing. The latter was how I found myself following Shyla.

The last thing I remembered was sitting with her in the vault at C.O.R.B.I.N., waiting for the pills to take hold. She leaned back to stretch. Her arms made a popping noise and she groaned.

You okay?

She nodded and stretched further until her shoulder popped too. I need to get out for awhile. This place is starting to bug me.

I smiled, but the hotel I was staying at was the only thing I was going to see anytime soon. I’d never been much for the club scene and my level of shyness was near astronomical. At least in the real world. I felt a sudden flash of heat and smelled wet skin, but before my brain could take hold of it and make anything out of it, the thoughts disappeared. It was the first sign that the pills were taking hold. The vault kept us isolated until we were under control again. No one was interested in letting anyone’s secrets leave with us.

Shyla laughed a bit and leaned forward to rest her arms on her knees. She looked up at the pendant lamps and then her smile widened. Yeah, I know what I need all right.

The image flashed again and this time I could hear a distinct moan, but there was conversation mingled with it and again, I was too slow to latch on to it before it faded. I looked up at her and saw that she was biting her bottom lip and staring at me. I felt myself flush and tried to pretend I hadn’t perceived anything. She knew better though.

I don’t mind, you know, she said and my ears almost burned from the embarrassment. I got up and crossed the room to the kitchenette. I busied myself with a cup of coffee and offered her one. She declined, but she sent another pulse of thought to me that made me drop my mug. She was on her hands and knees, and this blurred hulk of a man was behind her driving deep into her so hard that her knees left the floor with each thrust. I winced as a stab of pain raced through my finger.

Oh, shit, I’m so sorry, Vane! she gasped and jumped up from the couch. She took the dish towel from the refrigerator and waited for me to rinse the blood out of my cut. It wasn’t too deep, but the drugs thinned the blood a bit and I bled freely. She wrapped the towel around me and pressed hard.

Sorry, she said again. Softer this time. I was just playing around, I shouldn’t have done that.

I forced a weak smile, but I had been half-expecting her to try something like that. The image was still in my mind like a slow-motion video loop. Her face was fresh in my thoughts as she was filled to overflowing, over and over again. I…uh, I mean, it’s okay, really. I took the towel and let her brush me aside so she could make the coffee for me instead. By tomorrow, I’ll be right as rain.

I don’t even want to think about tomorrow. I’ve had enough of thinking. The last ten days have been nothing but thinking, for me and everyone else in that fucking zoo. I’m going to wash-out, and then I’m going to let someone else do the thinking for awhile. Maybe a few someones. She turned around with a steaming mug and traded it for the towel again. She opened it a bit to check my wound and gave a half grimace. Nope, still dodgey. When pressed firmly again, she cocked her head at me. What do you do to cleanse, Vane?

I thought about it for a moment, but wasn’t about to tell her that I usually went back to my hotel and racked up the pay-per-view porn bill so I shrugged. Not much, I guess. I just stay at the hotel. Occasionally go to a movie.

She looked scandalized for a moment. That’s it? Are you kidding me, I mean, with your talent you could be out banging every woman who… She caught herself and suddenly looked very angry. Sorry, Vane. That was stupid of me.

I wasn’t sure why she apologized, so I took a sip from my mug to cover the awkward moment. She looked at my finger again and smiled. There you go, all better.

I looked over at the digital clock that clung like a vulture above the sealed door to the vault and nodded toward it. Shyla glanced over too and we both smiled. We had less than an hour left before we’d be deemed ‘safe’ to reunite with the outside world.

What did you mean by a few someones? I said and then suddenly realized she wasn’t talking about Johnny Walker or Jack Daniels. A flash of thoughts hit me and I started to stutter out my apologies like a machine gun.

To her credit, Shyla just laughed. She was good at that. Nothing ever seemed to get under her skin, at least not for any discernable amount of time.

Oh my god, you should come with me, you could use the distraction! The offer hit me between the eyes and I really had no clue what she meant. She must have seen the polite refusal coming because she cut me off before I could start. There’ll be plenty of people there that you can mingle with or seclude yourself behind. Plenty of drinks and really good food. There’s even a few private rooms where you can sneak away if you get to feeling overwhelmed. C’mon, Vane, ‘Carnal Instincts III’ isn’t going anywhere, you should get out and live a little. Besides, it’d be so much cooler if there was someone else like me there. You could be my remote, how fucking cool would that be, huh?

I was still going to refuse when my brain processed her dig about the plans I had for the evening. I was obviously not the only one who was having a hard time letting the pills do their jobs. I think she also misunderstood my hesitation in answering as a wavering on whether to go with her or not.

Please, Vane?

Why did she have to be so damned cute? Her curves were just large enough to invite the imagination and she could be as severe or as demure as she wanted at the drop of a hat. She had the mind of a scholar and the mouth of a drunken sailor and was perfectly content with it. Saying yes was a forgone conclusion. And thinking back, I have my suspicions that she’d planned it for weeks. Maybe not every detail, but enough to get me squirming and trapped.

The last hour in the vault was spent sitting across from each other on the U-shaped couch talking about where we were going. The hotel was in the Czech Republic somewhere, maybe Prague, but she wasn’t sure. She had a linear trace she was going to use to get us there and back once we got to my hotel room. She also told me all about the ‘rules’ I was to follow once we got there. …You can talk to people, but only if they talk to you first. You’re new, and people can get a bit skittish.

My brow furrowed a bit. I can’t talk?

It’s not as bad as it sounds. You can go anywhere, look at anything, and say anything you want to, but let the established patrons speak first. They’re not cold-hearted people, just cautious.

Of what, exactly?

Of being thought of as deviants, freaks, outsiders… She trailed off for a second, but then bounced back in full spirit. And try to stay close to an observation point; once we link up, it’s going to be so totally fucking cool.

Wait, where are you going to be?

I usually wander off, but this time I’ve got something special in mind. You won’t be able to miss it.

And then she was off on another tangent about how well-furnished the hotel was, how many dignitaries had stayed there, about how many there might be when we arrive. She told me absolutely everything I could possibly want to know, except for exactly what I wanted to know. She avoided the topic of what I’d seen in her mind with the precision of a surgeon. Once the door chimed the five minute mark, she stopped talking and we both gathered up our travel cases and coats. By the time the plainclothes security detail arrived to escort us out, we’d both managed to conceal our feelings under a mask of fatigued apathy.

I don’t remember checking out, or the shuttle to my hotel. I do vaguely remember Shyla leaving for her own hotel, but my next real solid memory was after I’d showered and dressed. Shyla knocked lightly and when I let her in, I suddenly felt grossly underdressed. She wore a black sequined dress that clung to her like a glove and yet seemed to flow with her movements.

You’re wearing that? Shyla sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. She looked down at my clothes again, then turned to my closet and started to look through the hangers. I knew what she was going to choose before she hands even stopped. Sure enough, she turned around with my black suit dangling from her finger. She peeled off the dry-cleaner’s wrapping and handed it to me. Put this on, and don’t forget to change your shoes. She headed over to the window and stared out at the night. She glanced back and scowled. C’mon, Vane. Get changed. I know I blushed, but instead of turning back to the window, she turned for one of the chairs and sat down to watch. She bit her bottom lip again, waiting. If it wasn’t for the bundle of nerves in my stomach, I know I would have been seriously turned on. It was the weirdest sensation I’d ever felt.

I don’t think I’ve ever felt more insecure as I did at that moment. Every muscle in my body felt like it just popped out of a Jell-O mold. I didn’t try to impress her or even show off-- I’d have just made a bigger fool of myself than I already felt like. When I finally got my pants clasped, I dropped my belt; twice. Shyla didn’t laugh, she didn’t even frown, just got up and crossed the room like a phantom. The only thing I could hear was the