Cressida's Betrayal (Empire of the Sky 2)

Cressida's Betrayal (Empire of the Sky 2)
Mikala Ash
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Copyright ©2024 Mikala Ash

December 1865 -- Earthbound

Making love in the absence of gravity is a pleasure experienced by few. In this regard my beloved fiancé Jacob and I, and of course Marjorie, made full use of the three-day journey from the moon. Whenever the mood to clicket like a pair of foxes took us -- as it often did -- we’d strap ourselves into our cocoon -- the Lunarians’ term for the soft woollen bag designed to keep slumbering space travellers from drifting about -- and had at it with unbridled enthusiasm.

We were not the only ones. The dozen or so “marionettes” -- as Jacob termed the human bodies possessed by the spirits of goblins -- also took every opportunity to experience the joy of sex. In their natural form, the small leathery-winged creatures, which resembled the ugly statues of gargoyles, were denied by their nervous systems the ability to derive pleasure from copulation. For them, the act of coitus was simply a procreational chore, and so the ecstasy of sexual intercourse that the human body provided was to them as addictive as laudanum is to opium eaters.

Thus, the mid-section of the ship presented a scene straight from a nightmare. Cocoons bolted to the metal wall jostled their neighbours as they twisted and bucked like angry caterpillars. The contortions were accompanied by a discordant symphony of grunts, groans, and ultimate cries of climactic release.

I blush to recall that Jacob and I were no different. I was in seventh heaven with his cock relentlessly sliding, piston-like, in and out of my accommodating quim, causing my heart to gallop and my breathing to quicken into ragged gasps. I wasn’t alone, of course. Marjorie was enjoying it as well, albeit deep inside my head.

Oh, his cock is so very hard, she bellowed.

She didn’t have to tell me that. I could feel every inch of his rigid shaft stretch my tight fleshly sheath. Having a ghost possess me had added a new dimension to the constant monologue people conduct with themselves in their heads. Marjorie knew my thoughts before I could even express them to myself, and she had access to all my memories as well. The most amazing fact of her residency in my mind was that she could “feel” everything I did, from stubbing my toe to the ecstasy of sexual climax, and everything in-between.

Marjorie could also massage my body from the inside, as it were, stimulating my nipples and nub, and creating the sensations that Jacob would make with lips, tongue, fingers, and cock. She was thoroughly enjoying her demise, making liberal use of this ability, and wasn’t a passive member of our unconventional ménage which united the living and the dead.

I’m not dead, she would protest. Just misplaced, and very grateful I found you.

Murdered while she was a virgin, Marjorie’s spirit had, for some unknown reason, been irresistibly drawn to me, and had possessed my body to alert Jacob and I that her corpse had been stolen from her grave. Marjorie’s body was now possessed by a goblin who named herself Esther. One of our goals once on Earth was to return Marjorie to her rightful home. We were confident that I could perform the swap, as I had successfully done the same for Jacob in the chamber of the dead on the moon.

That Esther was writhing in ecstasy in the cocoon next to us, being ploughed enthusiastically by her so-called husband Warrick, both angered and intrigued her. He’s fucking her now, she said bitterly. I wonder what his cock feels like.

“Ugh!” I groaned, as much in disgust on her behalf as from the jolt of Jacob’s thrust. A half dozen followed, and my rising excitement was reflected in the increasing cadence of my whimpers and moans.

Jacob paused, his body tensed, but not from imminent climax.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Something’s changed. I’ll have a look.”

Now that we were not wholly engaged in pleasure, I noticed that the previously muffled grunts and groans were no longer stifled, but clear as a bell. I lifted Jacob’s arm so I could see out of our woollen shell. The agitated caterpillars, not content to remain in their cocoons, had erupted like butterflies from their chrysalides. With no gravity to keep them to the floor they twisted and tumbled through the air until the space became a mass of undulating human flesh. Jacob and I remained inside our woollen bag. The thought of intimacy with stolen bodies repelled us.

I shuddered at the memory of fucking the king of the Lunarians, Mon Ilson, and his concubine Gloria, but that had been in the cause of buying time and favour till our escape. I had only suffered the act by imagining I was making love to Jacob and Marjorie.

My memory of that awkward situation was suddenly interrupted by our cocoon being ripped open, and before I could react, Jacob and I were separated by gentle but insistent hands. In an instant Esther was kissing Jacob full on the mouth.