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The Mission

The Mission

2.0 1
by Michelle Marquis
Captain Tara Scott has just been offered the assignment of a lifetime. Her mission is to establish a U.S. Embassy on the planet of AEssyria without getting herself killed. If she's successful, she'll be rich beyond her wildest dreams. But AEssyria is no easy planet to survive. Populated by a savage warrior race, she'll be lucky if she can do her time in one piece. Her


Captain Tara Scott has just been offered the assignment of a lifetime. Her mission is to establish a U.S. Embassy on the planet of AEssyria without getting herself killed. If she's successful, she'll be rich beyond her wildest dreams. But AEssyria is no easy planet to survive. Populated by a savage warrior race, she'll be lucky if she can do her time in one piece. Her only hope of success is to seduce an AEssyrian bull-male and keep him interested as her protector. Admiral Sargon Varin is an accomplished AEssyrian warrior on the verge of retiring from the Fleet. He has achieved everything he wanted in life, everything except find a woman to love. When he meets Tara, he finds in her everything he ever wanted; a successful woman who not only enjoys sex but has an iron will to achieve her mission. Genre: Erotic Romance Science Fiction Rating: Erotica - Controversial (may contain adult content, language, and graphic sex)

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Torrid Books
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Kingdom of AEssyria, 2107 A.D.

a planet millions of miles from earth

The brothel was stuffy, hot and filled with the smell of cheap perfume. Sargon pushed past the crowd obscuring the entrance. A young .Essyrian soldier glared at him, but once he noticed Sargon's admiral insignia, he bowed his head in respect.

Breaking through the crowd, the madam rushed up to the admiral. She knew a big payday when she saw one and was eager to impress this important guest. She was showing her years and the thick makeup she wore only served to make her look clownish. She wore a long patterned dress and a thick bunch of necklaces around her throat. Smiling broadly, she said, "What is your pleasure, Lord? What can I get for you after such a long journey in space?"

Sargon looked past her to the many whores hanging around the bar. There were all types of women, from the very short to the startlingly tall. None of them held any interest for him.

"I was looking for something a little different. What do you have that's alien?"

The madam placed her hand on his back and rubbed it in a slow circle. She was close to a profit and she knew it. "I have something very special, Lord. A human woman. She's no young thing now, but she's experienced and willing to do anything your heart desires."

Sargon was intrigued. "Human you say?"

"That's right. If you'll come right this way, I'll introduce you to her."

The admiral followed the madam up a flight of stairs and down a narrow hallway. She came to a door with a large blue planet painted on it. The crude writing beneath it said Earth Woman. The picture resembled a child's drawing. The madamknocked hard.

The door opened slowly, revealing a candlelit room and a large bare mattress beyond. There was one bedside table and faded red curtains pulled closed against the night. The woman was attractive enough, but had the weathered look of someone who'd lived this life much too long. She smiled at him, but her eyes were dead. Stepping back from the door, she said, "Come in."

Sargon paid the madam and came into the room. He hated himself for being here a moment after he'd entered. A life in the fleet was a hard and lonely one. In his six hundred years, he'd been married a few times, but none of them lasted. A relationship required proper tending to stay healthy, and he was never home. Well, at least now that he was retired, perhaps he could find someone to build a life with.

The prostitute waited for him by the bed, looking slightly impatient. "How do you want it?" she asked.

"What's your name?"

"What do you want it to be?"

Sargon thought back to the childish scrawl on her bedroom door. He wondered if the woman had painted it herself.

The women opened the collar of her dress to reveal the tops of her breasts. "Why don't you just call me Nina?" she suggested.

He moved toward her and she unbuttoned the rest of her dress.

"Don't take it off," he said, knowing this wouldn't last long. "Just lift up your dress."

The woman shrugged, bent over the bed and pulled her dress up, revealing her naked hips. Sargon came up behind her and pushed his cock deep inside her. She grunted and pumped her body back, eager for him to come and be done with it.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

"I wanted to see the universe. I didn't realize I wouldn't be able to find a job, and wound up doing this. Guess it doesn't really matter now, right?"

"You could go back to Earth."

"Don't have the money," she said, looking back at him. "Is there anything I can do to help you get off?"

Sargon pulled out without an orgasm. This was the most unfulfilling sexual encounter he'd ever had. His erection was already beginning to fade.

The woman turned around, looking concerned. "Maybe if I sucked you off?"

"No," he said, grabbing her hands as she reached for his groin. "No, thank you." He took out a roll of bills and handed them to her. "Take this and buy yourself a ticket home."

The woman fell into a shocked silence. Gone was the brazen confidence she'd shown a few minutes ago. She glanced at the money, then stared at him with glassy eyes. "I don't need your pity," she said with a voice on the verge of tears.

"Don't consider it an act of pity," he said, opening the door to leave. "Consider it an act of mercy."

* * * *

Mystic Palm Apartments

Republic of California, 2107 A.D.

9:22 P.M.

Captain Tara Scott sat on the couch in her apartment flipping the gold porno disk through her fingers. She stared at the blank screen ahead of her, steadying her nerves for what she was about to watch. Finally taking a deep, nervous breath, she placed the disk in the player and pushed the start button on the remote.

For a moment, there was nothing--just a blank screen. Then the images began.

The human woman was in a well-lit bedroom completely naked. She had medium length dark hair and a thin body with large breasts. Her pubic area was completely shaved. She was the kind of woman who looked as though she done this a million times and was completely comfortable with it. As Tara watched her, she got the feeling she'd seen the woman before in other adult films. She seemed very familiar, with her enormous round breasts and that air of generic sexuality that worked well in all porno flicks. The woman moved over to the bed and opened her legs for the camera, playing with her sex and smiling at someone who'd just entered the room.

A large, heavily muscled green back blocked the camera for a moment. When the shot finally captured him, Tara could see he was a young AEssyrian male. He stood somewhere around six foot four, and had the bulk of a bodybuilder. His entire body was a sculpture of thick, detailed veins and muscles. His face was cool and hard with a classic handsome edge, and when he smiled, she noticed his mouth was filled with sharp, predatory teeth. His eyes were a beautiful metallic green, with catlike vertical pupils. Between his legs was the most impressive thing about him, a massive fourteen-inch penis, erect and ready, its fleshy mating spine displayed prominently down the underside of its length.

The woman lay back on the bed and opened her legs to welcome him. He moved over her, his long forked tongue stroking her pale flesh. She squirmed, groaning under his touch. As he moved up alongside her, it became clearer how much larger the AEssyrian was. His long fingers caressed down her body, finding her wet little secret. He toyed with her gently, separating the outer lips and exposing the swollen button of her clit. Tara noticed his nails, normally long and sharp on this alien species, were cut down to nubs. He obviously was a professional sex performer like the woman.

Tara glanced away from the screen and sipped her cola. Her skin felt hot and flushed, and her heart was speeding up. Could she make love to one of these aggressive alien males? She swallowed a few sips, she'd do what she had to for this mission, and if she had to fuck an alien, then that's what she was going to do.

When she looked back at the screen, the couple was having sex. The woman was on her side with her back to the AEssyrian and her left leg resting on his thigh. The position gave the camera a clear view of the penetration and Tara felt her mouth fall open. The alien had completely filled the woman's pussy and was slowly pumping in and out of her slick sex. Tara examined the woman's face for any sign of discomfort, but all she found there was a look of complete bliss. The AEssyrian growled out something in his native tongue and the woman began to come, her cries taking on a feverish pitch.

Tara turned off the disk. She sat there in the dark quiet of her living room listening to the echoes of lust still bouncing around in her head. I can do this. She tried to talk herself out of her apprehension. Finishing her soda, she got up and walked into the bathroom to take a nice cold shower.

* * * *

The Federal Space Exploration Committee

Conference Room A

8:00 A.M.

Five years.

The contract called for five years to set up the U.S. Embassy on .Essyria, no callbacks. That's all she had to do to be rich for the rest of her life, five years on the most violent planet in the sector. Heck, she could do five years. It'd be easy and when she thought about it, five years wasn't very long at all.

The interview room was gray and more depressing than Tara had envisioned. In front of her was a long metal folding table where two Federal Space Exploration Committee officials sat, Mister Miles Stanton and Miss Emily Johnson. No pictures hung on the walls nor was there other furniture in the room, except for the folding chair she sat on. The floor was tiled in a drab black and white checkered pattern, and smelled like fresh wax. Mr. Stanton was a balding man who chose to comb his few remaining locks lengthwise over his dome skull. He looked to be somewhere in his mid-fifties. Miss Johnson had gray hair curled in a style not seen since the 1950s and appeared closer to seventy. They both wore the severe expression of people making a decision neither liked very much.

After a long deliberation, Mr. Stanton stopped flipping through Tara's file, cleared his throat and placed it in front of Miss Johnson to his left. She looked at it like it was a dead rat. Then she looked up at Tara with watery blue eyes.

"You've never been on an exploration mission before," she said, her voice crackling like brittle paper. "Why don't you take an assignment less challenging? Why choose something this dangerous?"

Tara rubbed the sweat of her palms off on her pant legs. She couldn't tell them the truth. That she needed the money desperately. They'd never give her the assignment if they knew. She shrugged and leaned back in her chair, hoping she looked relaxed. "I love a good challenge and I need the experience."

Mr. Stanton leaned forward with his elbows on the table. He bared his teeth in a sinister smile. He looked like he wanted to bite her. "This is more than just a challenge, Captain Scott. Some people would consider this suicide."

Tara tried to smile, but failed. "Mr. Stanton I think you're being a little overdramatic--"

"On the contrary, I don't think I'm being dramatic enough," he said.

"Listen," Tara said. "I know it's risky, I know the tour is five years, I've read all the reports, but I feel I'm up for this. Please don't count me out."

Mr. Stanton leaned back in his chair. The harsh overhead light made his bald spot glow like a small moon. He glanced over at Miss Johnson. Her face was frozen in a brooding frown. For a fleeting moment, Tara thought they might be right. Maybe she was making a mistake. What if I get there and it's as bad as they say?

After a few long moments, Miss Johnson shook her head like a cat getting a bad taste out of its mouth. "I can't condone this, but it's your call, Mr. Stanton."

As if on cue, he stood up and paced with his hands behind his back. "You understand that once you're on your way there is no turning back. This is a Sector Four assignment. There will be minimal help on this God-forsaken planet, and the two crew members assigned to help you won't have any experience with the .Essyrians either."

Tara suppressed her excitement. He's going to let me go! I can't believe it. I'll be so fucking rich by the time I get back, I'll never have to work again! She met his iron gaze. "I understand, sir."

"I'll be monitoring your logs to make sure you're practicing at the range every day until you leave. I want two hours minimum, do you understand? If I don't see that, you're going to be scrapped."

Tara nodded. "Two hours every day until I ship out, no problem."

He stopped pacing and his mouth moved into a grim line. "You will need to have sex with them, you know."

"Yes sir, I know."

"I'm not doing you any favors here, Captain Scott. You'd better prepare yourself for this mission because when and if you come back, you'll never be the same."

"I assure you, Mr. Stanton, I'll be ready and I know exactly what I'm getting myself into," Tara reassured him.

Miss Johnson coughed a harsh laugh. "Oh no you don't, young lady. If you had any idea what was waiting for you on .Essyria, you'd tear that rank off your chest and never set foot in a Federal Exploration building again. I was on that planet a few years ago when they arranged all this with their king and, I'll be very frank with you, it's no place for a human woman."

Tara sat there feeling her guts turn to ice. These people were so full of crap. How many hours had either of them logged off Earth since the Stone Age? She watched Miss Johnson and frowned. How did these crazy old coots get in charge of the selection committee anyway? All she wanted to do was get the hell out of here and start packing for her trip.

She flashed Miss Johnson her most confident smile. "Don't worry about me, ma'am. I appreciate your concern but I'll be fine, really."

Mr. Stanton picked up Tara's file, tucked it under his arm and made his way toward the sliding door. "With an attitude like that, Captain Scott, I know you won't be. But life is its own teacher, isn't it? I wish you the best of luck."

Miss Johnson got up, her chair scraped metallic against the floor. She walked with slow measured steps toward the exit. She paused at the door. Without turning around, she said, "I guess Mr. Stanton doesn't like you very much." She gingerly touched the doorframe with her fingertips. Her delay in passing through made the yellow obstruction light blink angrily above. "If he did, he would never have allowed you to set foot on that hellhole."

She disappeared down the hall and the light above the door turned green.

* * * *

Meet the Author

Michelle Marquis is the pen name for science fiction and paranormal author Michelle O'Neill. Born in Los Angeles , California, Michelle has lived all over the US and even some places in Canada. She is owned and cared for by her family (who tolerate her writing insanity), an aging Doberman and a mischievous Irish Terrier named Guinness. Michelle often writes like a fiend and has authored many novels and short stories for the internet both mainstream and erotic.

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The Mission 2 out of 5 based on 0 ratings. 1 reviews.
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