The Great Escape Chapter 19, Part 6 of 6

The Great Escape
Chapter 19, Part 6 of 6

Yael poured some oil onto her hands and rubbed them together, then she massaged Wildchild's pert buttocks, smearing the oil around. Wildchild hummed happily, cuddling the pillow, getting small flashbacks of the sensuous spanking as Yael's small hands warmed her skin.

"Come on, tell me everything," Yael said as she gently rubbed. "Did you enjoy it? Did it hurt?

How much did you have to tease him first?"

The Wildchild told her the whole story, and Yael laughed often. Yael lay down on the bed when she finished using the massage oil. The Wildchild turned to face her, and they talked head-to-head.

Wildchild said:

"Ezra thinks I'm the most amazing woman in the Galaxy."

"He's right, you are," Yael insisted.

"Shut up! He thinks I deserve the most amazing man in the Galaxy."

"You do, but isn't that, Ezra?"

"Not. He says he's only average and too old for me. So, when more men come, I will choose the best one for myself."

"But how will you know? What makes a good man? I mean, Ezra's kind, funny, and strong. Are all men like him?"

"I don't know. I expect I'll know when I see more men."

"When will more men come?"

"No one knows."

"I wonder how many will come. Do you think there'll be enough for one man each?"

"I don't know."

"Would you want a man all to yourself?" Yael asked. "Or would you share him with Hazel?"

"Ezra didn't talk about that. How would it work if Hazel and I both had husbands? I would a
man wants to share his wife?"

The girls were puzzled over the problem until they couldn't deny that it was time for the Wildchild to wash, dress, and go to work.

Ezra moved in with Dipti and Urulla for his last week with the Woodlanders. The sex was passionate and energetic. Dipti loved being spanked, and her bedmates were happy to oblige her. She was also a screamer, so she was usually gagged, sometimes with Ezra's cock, while Urulla took a paddle to her lovely round buttocks.

That week, the tribe finished building the new huts. It was a busy and enjoyable day with everyone involved, transferring stores from the old hut to the latest. After a good cleaning, they moved a bed, two wicker chairs, a rough wooden table, wicker boxes for clothes, and a wooden cupboard with shelves into the old hut. Now, it was ready for Hazel and Wildchild.

That night, when the tribe celebrated with singing and dancing, Hazel and Wildchild took part to the end. Everyone was so happy they even managed to get Ezra to dance. He showed Hazel his steps and danced with all the women in turn. Yael performed her 'wiggle dance,' based on the sexy movements of the Mariner girls, who wore grass skirts and swayed their hips sexily.

Bedtime was fun and noisy, with slaps and squeals from Dipti and Urulla's hut and moans and giggles from Wildchild and Hazel as the girls made love with unabated energy late into the night. Although the lovers kept their neighbors awake later than usual, no one complained the following day. The sounds of happiness were more pleasant than Mirselene's snoring, and no one resented anything Ezra might do to bless the tribe with more children. Those Woodlanders who yawned at breakfast the following day smiled benignly at the lovers.

The sun rose over the trees, its heat banishing the morning mist to the forest edge. Crooked fingers of steam rose from the roofs of the verandas that linked the huts into a ring around the campfire.

Mirselene surveyed the Forest Camp from her dais, reflecting that, even though the tribe was short, two women, with Annela in the escape pod and Carlin in the Cloner City, it was a good time to be a Woodlander. The new storage huts were filling up, and the crops were growing well.

Pepi brought a bucket of milk twice a day from Jemima the cow. Casti's chickens were generous layers. There was a choice of roast or smoked pigeons, plus an abundance of nuts, fruits, berries, seeds, herbs, and mushrooms to pick.

The children grew up quickly and enjoyed their lessons. They did not need their mothers' attention so much but were keen to help with what chores were possible for them. They would come running to the campfire when the pots were clanged to summon everyone to help with the feast, always led by Freya. Then, none was faster.

When there was no dancing after the feast, the girls had the ritual of sitting on their mothers' or mentors' laps. Now Ezra was there; they took turns sitting in his lap and being fussed over.

Despite the hard life on Samothea and the need for a girl to be self-motivated and independent from a very young age - or perhaps because of these things - they were all confirmed daddy's girls, who knew no greater joy than to be hugged by their father, to ride on his back or to sit in his lap during a cold night, snug and warm in a blanket, watching the freezing rain fall in sheets from the veranda roofs.

As for Ezra, with unlimited sex, satisfying hard work, and the affection of so many admirable women, he was in paradise. It was a sweet exile from his home and friends on Earth, made all the sweeter by the unending complexity and variety of female personalities to try to understand and, just as often, fail to understand - with the happy corollary of an endless variety and complexity of ways to be in love. He never wanted the days to end.

Brad surprised himself as much as everyone else by turning up at Celetaris on time to begin training for his suicide mission.

Danielle had been optimistic when Hestia first told her about him. Less so when she heard the story in a sanitized version of how Hestia had recruited him, her dubiety reached its maximum when Brad rolled up at Celetaris in crumpled clothes, a week-old beard, and after non-stop sex with Hestia, a smile fixed so firmly to his face that Danielle couldn't take him seriously at all.

He was too casual and self-assured for her fastidious taste, considering where he was going.

But he became more serious when training for the mission began, and it was not long before all the Project Team, even Danielle, were impressed.

After a few days of intensive training, Brad mastered the air suit and perfectly piloted a simulation of the Samothea Project spaceship in a week.

He was a good pilot, and after flawlessly completing ten practice hyperspace jumps, Danielle was wholly persuaded.

The Woodlanders were sad on the day Ezra continued his regular progress through the tribes, leaving the monthly trade meeting to go home with the Mariners.

His welcome at the Beach Settlement was warm and loving, as always. Kalyndra's kneeling subservience was entirely accepted by the Mariner tribe and felt natural. She led him to her hut long before the end of the feast, where she knelt again to hand him the bag of ropes, gags, and floggers she carefully preserved for their sessions together, the sessions that she cherished and yearned for, where she could be her authentic self.

He hogtied her, spanked her to get her skin warm, her nerves tingling, and her pussy soaked, then he fucked her and fucked her until his balls ached.

Ezra settled into a month of work and pleasure at the seaside, playing with his daughters and having sex with some of the most beautiful women on Samothea. He loved the rituals of admiring Odette's latest sculpture, handing over his penknife to Juniel, having wild, aggressive sex with Cressi, prolonged athletic sex with Devon, having hot, sultry sex with Salema, and mature, sensible sex with his other bedmates.

Catching up with Thalassa was a special delight. The calm, beautiful girl, intelligent and self-assured, had her daughter in the sea, where the water gave buoyancy, helping her squat. It was painful, but she was supported from behind by her bedmates, Kalyndra and Devon. A newborn child will instinctively hold its breath underwater, so there is no danger of drowning, and saltwater has antiseptic properties. Calliope - nurse, Chief, and mother to Thalassa - had the joy of delivering a tiny, red, healthy granddaughter.

For the next three months, Thalassa moved in with her mother, sharing her boat house and her bed. At night, the two women snuggled the baby warmly between them. Distracted by her responsibilities as tribe chief, Calliope had forgotten how much she missed sleeping with her daughter.

Most mornings, Calliope woke early and lay contentedly as she watched the first shaft of sunlight from the high porthole creep slowly across the bed to light the chestnut hair of her sleeping daughter and the precious lump in the bed between them. Sometimes, she would stroke Thalassa's hair and snuggle the pillow as gentle dreams played behind her eyelids.

Thalassa took to motherhood naturally, snatching sleep when she could and accepting every bit of help anyone offered. She bathed with her daughter in the sea daily, suckling at her, burping, washing, and sleeping with her skin-to-skin. She also held her daughter's head on her chest so the infant could hear her heartbeat and feel protected and loved.

Ezra fit naturally back into Thalassa's life, sharing her pride and joy in their daughter, taking on his baby duties as a pleasure, not a burden, and telling Thalassa how proud and happy she made him feel.

Life was good by the seashore, and the only hint of sadness was that Kalyndra remained barren. She hid her disappointment well and never showed any envy or resentment toward her sisters, who were all pregnant or already mothers, but Ezra understood her well. Every moment he could spare, he tied her up tightly and fucked her hard; he ordered her to kneel and suck his cock; he flogged her and spanked her and took away all her self-will, satisfying her need to submit to him, giving her something else to think about.

While Ezra stayed with the Mariners, Hazel and Wildchild decided and requested a meeting with Mirselene.

When they were seated in her hut, Hazel began:

"Madam, I'd like to go home and visit my mother and friends."

"I understand, child," Mirselene replied. "It's always right for a daughter to honor her mother.

How long will you stay with the Farmers?"

"I can't say, Madam. I miss my mother and friends and want my tribe to prosper. I want to know that I'm not letting them down."

This was ominous. Mirselene was worried that Hazel would stay with the Farmers, who were prosperous and happy, farming in the foothills of the White Mountains.

"You know I'm not the only one who wants you to return?" Mirselene said, with what the blunt woman thought was a subtle hint to Wildchild, who winked at Hazel before replying:

"I hope you won't object, Madam, if I go to visit the Farmers with Hazel."

"Oh, I thought you liked it here in the forest."

"I love being a Woodlander, Madam," Wildchild assured her Chief. "I don't want to leave the tribe, but I want to meet Hazel's mother and friends. I would like to know what living with the Farmers is like."

Mirselene nodded. She understood their motivation, though she couldn't see why her tribe should be deprived of two more hard workers.

"It's not a good time, you understand," Mirselene said, "what about Carlin going away for a year?"

Mirselene let that accusatory statement hang in the air, but the Wildchild was unashamed about taking Carlin's side when the girl decided to become a Junior.

"However, I understand why you want to go. It is part of your education, isn't it?"

"Yes, Madam," Wildchild said.

"I don't want either of you to go," Mirselene said, "but I can't stop you. Very well, girls. I will miss you both. You've done marvels this year. I'm very pleased with the new huts and the smoking room. Your little friends will miss you."

"I know, Madam," Hazel said. "We will miss them, too."

"I'm not sure how we'll cope without your work. I wonder what state the Camp will be in when you return."

Mirselene said this with a straight face, but she was incapable of emotionally blackmailing someone like the Wildchild, who laughed out loud.

"You'll get on fine without us, Madam," Wildchild said. "With their daughters growing up, Urulla, Dagma, Dipti, and Sharne can easily do everything that Hazel, Carlin, and I do."

"All right. I admit that. But the Camp won't be the same without you."

"Thank you, Madam," Wildchild said. "We'll leave tomorrow."

Mirselene allowed herself a sigh as she watched the girls leave her hut. It wasn't self-pity.

When everyone had food and clothes to wear, there was much to celebrate, but it was hard to keep everyone happy when things changed. She hoped this would be the last significant change for a good while.

Brad was as ready as ever after training every day for a month.

For the final stage of preparing the mission, Jonathan Wright and Li Qu Yuan came out from Earth to configure the Samothea Project's hyperspace beacon in an orbit around Celetaris' sun, where it fed on sunlight to fill its fuel cells.

Because she now owns a small percentage of the Samothea Project's profits, Hestia was keenly interested in its progress and came to watch the launch. Brad wanted to say a physical goodbye to her, but she couldn't approach him due to an even stricter quarantine than on Capella Spaceport.

It was a tense and nervous time. Due to politics, finance, and a host of bad auspices that had afflicted the Samothea Project from the start, they had one shot at this. Anyone who had a spare moment checked and re-checked the hyperspace route, the corrections for anomalies, the fuel load, the spaceship's mechanics, and the X-ray shielding's efficacy. Computers hummed day and night and grew hot from running the calculations repeatedly.

At last, the day came. Brad buckled into the seat and maneuvered the spaceship under rocket power to the beginning of his approach run, fifty miles from the beacon. He checked his instruments and received the all-clear.

The beacon was activated. Gold light sparked around its edges. A nebulous purple lens grew in its ring and became an opaque plume.

Brad heard a voice in his earpiece. It was a woman. He breathed out and focused. It was Rosa, telling him he could launch it when ready.

There was no backing out now. He was about to embark on human history's fastest and furthest hyperspace jump. Brad engaged in the hyperspace drive.

"Here goes nothing!" he said, punching the launch button to drive the ship into the beacon. The acceleration pushed him into the back of his seat.

There was a flash. Plume entry, a precise eighteen-second countdown, and plume collapse with no significant overshoot or undershoot. If he wasn't dead or stranded in space, slowly freezing or suffocating to death, then Brad might well be somewhere near Samothea.

At the next monthly trade meeting, Ezra left the Mariners to go to the Northern Camp with the Herders, where he spent his whole first day fucking Solange's bedmate, Ash.

Ash had gone to Cloner City with Solange and her daughter, Tahney, while Solange attended meetings of the Currency Committee.

However, despite Ezra's best efforts, Ash was still not pregnant. So, while Ezra stayed with the Herders again, Solange sent Ash to join him.

Galatea left them in Northern Camp and went on with the trading party to the Cloner City, taking the Mariner and Woodlander goods they'd just traded to the weekly market there.

Ash kept Ezra in the hut all day. It happened to be the most auspicious time in her monthly cycle. For an entirely submissive girl, Ash could be assertive in a sweetly enticing way. She seduced Ezra nicely, sucking him hard and riding him until he could hold off no longer; then she lay on her back, spread her legs, and got him to fuck her to the finish. She crossed her legs over his back as he came and held him tightly in place, the spasm of her vagina milking the fullness of his cock, as it twitched, unloading his seed deep inside her.

Ash sighed and, with her eyes tightly shut, made a wish that Ezra's sperm at last would be as successful with her as it had been with a dozen members of the Herder tribe.

Brad jumped to Samothea about four years after Ezra crash-landed there.

His ship bounced out of hyperspace about fifty-thousand miles from Samothea. Traveling at eighteen-thousand miles an hour, it soon reached Samothea. Brad settled the vessel into a circular orbit, a few hundred miles above the equator, girding the planet every four hours.

He detached the beacon for his return journey, which automatically unfurled its vast solar panels, pointed them at Samothea's sun, and began to power up.

From his orbit, Brad kept an eye out for lights at night and large settlements by day, but his main interest was a radio distress signal he picked up, apparently from an emergency escape pod on the planet's surface. The signal contained a message coded into it: a reply to Danielle's message from almost two years ago, saying that Ezra and Yumi were safe, that human life survived on Samothea, and that whoever comes to rescue them should be careful of quarantine.

Brad traced the source of the radio signal to a location on the coast in the tropical region of a sizeable kidney-shaped continent. He maneuvered his craft to include the source in his orbit and recognized the escape pod's laser guidance beam. There seemed to be no other life or habitation around the escape pod, so Brad surveyed the planet at different latitudes.

After a couple of night-time flyovers to spy for campfires with a telescope, then an early-morning pass, when even small structures could be picked out from space by their long shadows, Brad had his target: a group of buildings near the mouth of a large river, about seventy miles north of the beacon.

He put on his helmet and secured the tube from his oxygen tank with a click. When there was a satisfactory flow of breathing air, he turned on the pump to suck the air out of the capsule.

The gauge dropped quickly to zero. Brad opened the capsule doors, pushed himself out into space, and began his descent to the planet, slowing his orbit with a retrorocket on his back.

Brad turned on the air-suit when he breached the atmosphere. The microwaves captured the air around him to form a thin blanket, which gradually thickened as the atmospheric pressure increased, creating a solid shield to absorb the buffeting and heat from the friction. The air around him glowed orange as he slowed rapidly to only a few hundred miles an hour.

Brad spread his arms a little, and the compressed air formed into wings. There was a kick like a parachute opening.

"Woo Hoo!" he yelled as the g-force shocked him, spinning him around and tumbling him over.

Soon, the air wings straightened him up and steadied his fall.

As he slowed, the air cleared around him, and he had a good view of the kidney-shaped continent and the blue ocean that washed up against its western edge. He saw the vast green plain bordered by a large forest to the east, itself bounded by a massive mountain range forming the central spine of the continent. There were yellow, brown, and grey volcanoes with white peaks and slopes, some smoking. Clouds hung over the ocean and the mountains, but the air over the plains and forests was crisp and clear.

Brad's descent slowed to a hundred and twenty miles an hour, and he began to steer, taking a westerly course across the ocean, slightly north of the equator. He swallowed his dive and slowed well below free-fall velocity. Now, it was safe to unplug his helmet from the oxygen tank and fill his tanks with fresh air.

Brad breathed the air of Samothea. It was good. He flew on, losing altitude and leveling off at two thousand feet, making for the large settlement he had spied from space.

It was business as usual in the Cloner City. Women from the Cloner, Farmer, and Herder tribes milled around the marketplace before the Council Hall on a bright, warm day, trading, weighing goods, and haggling noisily over prices.

Something passed overhead with a whistling sound, making everyone look up. At first, they thought it was a large bird, but it wheeled around and hovered high over the square. It was a man in an odd grey suit, shimmering like a mirage and emitting a strange hiss of compressed air like a distant wind. He slowly descended into the marketplace, making the crowd part in wonder.

Brad landed in a flurry of dust and a last wheezing sigh from his air suit as the jets turned off.

He squinted in the bright sunlight as the dust settled down around him. He removed his helmet and reached into an inner pocket for his sunglasses. The crowd kept its distance, waiting for someone in authority to come and tell them what to do. They looked peaceful. Brad was curious to see that they were all women. He didn't notice that some of them went to fetch spears, bows, and arrows, which they kept ready at the back of the crowd.

He put on his sunglasses and brushed the dust from his sleeves. A woman pushed her way through the crowd. It was Madam Law, the speaker, who had been near the market when Brad arrived, though the unnatural silence of the women alerted her rather than the noise of the air suit.

She came boldly up to him and waited, arms folded.

Brad made a polite bow to the venerable-looking lady and addressed her:

"Er, take me to your leader?"



To be continued