Here I am, finally done with Falaha’s story!
It began with Falaha’s Journey: A Spacegirl’s Account in Three Movements.
Now freshly published Falaha’s Journey Into Pleasure concludes the series. This serial novel consists of three interlinked stories: Welcome to Adulthood, This Lonely, Lonely Spaceman and The Man in a Box.
Unlike the first book, where love story was only one of the subplots, this book brings romance to the front. This is an adult (erotic) science fiction serial novel that comes packed with polyamorous relationships between straight, bisexual and heteroflexible kinky people.
Falaha has grown and her transformation also encompasses a transition from a young girl into a young woman. This is an explicit, at times graphic, story of a young woman exploring the depths of pleasure, of mind, body and heart. But she isn’t going on that journey alone…
Falaha’s Journey Into Pleasure is a story of recovery, family life, spicy romance and sex, with more insights into the Danna culture and personalities of the characters, also things left unexplored, and side questions left unanswered in the main book. This is a precious time of peace before another calamity.
Here’s an excerpt from The Man in a Box, сopyright 2015, by Jeno Marz.
“No way, cuz!” Tarrenat gasps, caressing the shiny surface of my new high-tech ride. Something which we mountain people don’t see much here, especially as fancy gifts. He circles in careful steps around it. “That’s custom built, ain’t it? One of a kind!”
I don’t need to affirm that. A fifth-generation mechanic, he knows these things well. So I stand silent. He then looks at me, narrowing one eye, evaluating, chewing his lip. His pale-blue gaze fixates on something that troubles him.
“Oi, Baro, what’s that bruise on your neck?”
I instinctively clasp at the spot: it still stings. So do other places all over my body, thankfully hidden under my clothes. “Nothing,” I reply, turning up my jacket’s collar, and ask, “Wanna take her for a ride?”
Tarrenat continues to stare at me with suspicion, then at the gear, then at me again. “Sure,” he says. “If it’s legit.”
I smirk with the corners of my lips at his worry, but it irks me that his suspicions are sometimes valid.
“Absolutely.” I unlock the gear with my wristband, proving to him that the machine is written into my civil license records, therefore legally registered to my name.
She had it filed through official MDF channels, adhering to all vehicle regulations and protocols, so there was nothing strange in this. It was a gift. People give gifts on a daily basis.
But custom made? I should have steered clear of that regna and her habits, which turned out to be quite sadistic. My pain tolerance got really high due to the endorphins and adrenaline running through my body, and I didn’t even realize how hard she was whipping me. We had set limits before the play—it was supposed to be light play that surely wouldn’t result in torn, broken skin and bruises—but seems like she decided to push and break them and check my actual endurance.
I was lucky that my limbs weren’t damaged in ropes, either by pure chance, or because she was keeping an eye out.
As I was falling into her rhythm of play, my pain threshold was rising with every endorphin load release and it soon got me feeling slightly woozy. The next build-up culminated in even more intense stimulation, which pushed me further into trouble.
Inexperienced, I was careless.
At the beginning it was lush and dark and slow. Barely any time passed for me at all as I was drifting through the soft layers of consciousness. And then I found myself really far under, totally blank. I slipped into that state so fast and so deep… and so far away.
Hard to think, hard to process, hard to make decisions.
It was all so new to me. I couldn’t stay on guard.
It was a mistake to allow myself to be gagged. Yet even if I hadn’t been, I probably would not have been able to speak properly.
I surfaced quickly during her brief check-ins, and slipped back afterwards.
I couldn’t even concentrate.
But I got really hard. Painfully hard in need of release. She rode me, still tied up, over some furniture like it was her last day alive. I threw myself into this inhibition-free and passionate indulgence, reaching heights of ecstasy never experienced before.
The intensity of our play got only stronger from there on. My adrenaline levels were held up by that intensity, and combined with elevated levels of endorphins I was the hot core of powerful excitement and euphoric relaxation, gladly receiving everything that was coming my way.
She knew I would not be able to make it stop in that state. There was no way I would utter even a single word by that time. I had no experience with this. I was too helpless and too vulnerable. She tricked me into it and threw me over the edge. So softly, so brutally. She also should’ve warned me ahead of time she doesn’t do aftercare. Tied up and my voice muted, it was so scary, yet my body betrayed me, getting excited and enjoying it. It was too overwhelming and so embarrassing.
Embarrassing that I let her abuse me.
It made me angry, so angry.
Even though I was not at fault for it happening.
I hit my absolute limit hard. Rather, at first I did not even realize this had occurred… She did not intend to stop at all until she was done with me.
Dropped off in the mountains not far from my apartment complex, exhausted and left on my own to process all the intense feelings, I couldn’t grasp what she was thinking. I was too busy crawling out of my deepest, darkest pit of heavy experiences, through the terror, through tears, through hating myself, through hating my existence. The bruise on my neck—I actually scratched myself, aiming for my face… I think. It took me a while to return from that deep space of mind, not to mention to crawl back home through the night, naked.
It made me realize how fragile I was. How fragile a person’s mind is. That, I hated it too.
I came so close to breaking. Was it her aim, to destroy me? Fucked-up woman! And one of the high-ranking enforcers from another region to boot, belonging to the top kennar of Medas! She did it all being confident I cannot do much about her—even with all the evidence in place.
This, my fuck-up, left me feeling too open and confused and sad, all of which in turn brought up a slight but very disgusting shade of betrayal. I’d met a real predator that I should have watched out for, just like I was always aware of the dark side of mountaineering.
At least my kidneys were spared. I have no soma, so my bruises won’t heal that fast. What’s worse, this gift of hers didn’t seem to be amends or an apology for crossing the line and actually hurting—nearly traumatizing me—more like an attempt to ‘acquire’ me again or ensure my silence, subtly suggesting I keep it peaceful and quiet or else. Could be trouble on my single ass.
I never understood what women were thinking, knowing our relationships would never progress past one-night stand or a couple of weeks of lighthearted fun in the longest run. I have always told them this upfront, if some had interest in me, so I wouldn’t have to deal with all the attachments afterwards.
I never chased women. I was only going about my business, doing what I liked, but somehow I ended up tangled in the weirdest arrangements with the strangest people. And, of course, I was given gifts for my… courtship services. I had a suspicion that word of mouth did quite a disservice to me, spreading my ‘fame’ in certain female circles: adventurous women of various ages, looking for romance and excitement and ‘living toys’ in the Kjrrn Mountains. Barely average-looking, not extremely well-spoken, yet females flocked to me like I was the last breath of air in this whole region… Kjrrngvik is a fucking sports resort! They have no respect for us small kennar people. I’m a climber, not a beating bag with a dick!
“That’s a scary face.” Tarrenat stares at me, narrowing one eye, tilting his head to the side. This posture shows his highest degree of suspicion. “No trouble?” He now chews his lip again, nervous. “What if they kick you out of the Force?! And you are so close to completing your apprenticeship—”
“They won’t.” The only trouble I’m currently in is that the skin on my ass and back and arms and thighs hurts like I’ve been sliding bare down the icy mountain trail. Even with all the meds and soothing ointments I’ve applied. I’m sure Tarry is not interested to hear about that particular fascinating adventure. But I’m not angry with him, he has his own troubles.
“You are too smart for your own good,” he concludes.
“Oh, shut it and get in.” I open the hatch and leap into the pilot’s seat, too careless and immediately wincing from pain. Tarrenat takes place in the back seat. I can hear him palpating the interiors, clicking his tongue in appreciation. This guy is much smarter than he appears. Yet people don’t see it and he doesn’t bother showing it off. Such an attitude has always pissed me off. The only time he shows a slight shade of ambition is when Neve is involved—for her he would go far and against anyone.
And me, getting into something shitty, at a time like this… This week I’ve surely stepped out of my comfort zone into some deep, dark places. I would think twice before trying these games again… and absolutely not with that woman. My trust breached, and being beaten and having my mind turned inside out while tied up and gagged, that’s not my type of fun.
Still, the glimpse of her true side makes my job to keep people like her out of our place easier.
After checking her full profile, I found nothing that would make her suspicious in any way. It was her first time in Kjrrngvik, though she has traveled a lot to other desolate resorts in the past. Mountains are her preferred vocational choice and nothing unusual in that, yet I cannot shake the feeling that it is right under my nose. Things like a trace of similar accounts, unreported and virtually unknown, if her victims are somaless people from distant regions and small, weak families… Maybe her past victims are no longer alive… Maybe she keeps them locked away in a secret place for her personal entertainment… My sore ass tells me I could be onto something big here: illegal slavery, sexual sadism, serial murders… Or maybe her offenses are terrifying to a lesser degree and she just finds pleasure in destroying men psychologically for whatever reason. Or maybe I’m just slightly paranoid and unhappy after the raw and still-fresh experience of a failed affair.
Either way, she seems like my ‘client’ to investigate. It wouldn’t hurt to check her properly.
I lock my safety belts. In any other situation I would have run this gear off a cliff, but we are so poor that I can’t afford throwing out useful things just because of my issues. Especially things I paid for with my dearest butt—quite literally this time—which has already earned my small kennar a kind of an infrastructure of our own.
My father is probably rolling in his icy grave somewhere out there…
My mother has long disowned me and cut every tie to our kennar, so what she might think about my way of life is irrelevant.
“I’m going to propose to Neve again,” Tarrenat suddenly declares, serious. “Her dad will freak out.” I hear him fastening his safety belts.
“It’s not his business what his daughter wants,” I say, starting the engine.
“He thinks otherwise.”
This family feud has been going on for too long already. “He should just fuck off and let her breathe. She’s not a kid, nor brainless: she can think for herself.”
“I’m afraid, Baro. As things are now, she will be given off-world. The word is she has already been offered, and not in a conventional way. Mom says she didn’t see Neve at work yesterday. She might have taken the day off, but I have a bad feeling, Baro.”
Not in a conventional way, eh? The only way you can get an adult woman off this planet in a non-conventional way is against her will.
But the day after my abuser was here, in Kjrrngvik?
I frown. My gut feels like it is onto something. If Neve goes off-world, bringing her back home from the other kennar would be troublesome if not downright dangerous. It will get harder from now on, as the rumors of full-scale evacuation are beginning to circulate. I know those are no rumors, though. I’ve seen the data on Motherships in construction docks in the outer system. In ten to fifteen years Klia will be cleared completely. A day… So Neve is definitely still in Klia, if not on Medas. If she ends up taken to another star system, she will be lost to us forever.
I must not allow this to happen.
“She doesn’t belong there, Tarry. You know this. We’ll think of something. I’m sick of seeing our young women being sold off to other families. No person from any other kennar would even consider entering ours. At this rate we will be wiped out within this generation.”
“Then become the Head,” he says.
“You know that won’t stop parents from shipping their offspring to what they think is a better life. There is nothing I can offer to our kennar as a Head. Why do you think no one took on this role after my father’s death? It’s over for kennar Kljvk.”
Tarrenat is silent behind my back. Thinking or sulking, I don’t know. Then he says, “That’s not true. Many of us think you should become the Head. Everyone’s been reserving this position for you.”
How foolish of you bunch.
I say nothing. In silence we take off.
The gear moves smoothly over the rocky terrain, perfectly fitted for it. We are on our way deep into the mountains, away from our apartment complex.
Still, my ‘romantic’ situation and connections could be of use to our kennar’s advantage. This thought gives me the shivers and I leave this option as the last resort, like in case my arms and legs get ripped off for whatever reason, or something.
Once we are over the pass, I disable the SafeDrive and speed down the mountain. This gear was probably built according to the blueprints of several space explorer vehicles. It grips on rocks and uneven ground, adjusting itself to every obstacle in its way, gracefully bouncing off rocks and walls, making tricky turns in the air. Part-riding, part-flying, we don’t feel much force or shaking in the cockpit. It’s perfect and I soon get bored. I’m not used to luxury or comfort in life. I make a strange observation that this gear disconnects me from the mountain. I feel nothing. I’m not excited, though the display shows we are already streaming downward on a twisted path at a speed close to the upper end of low subsonic—almost regular cruising speed.
There’s definitely another system besides SafeDrive at work. An arcai. I will rip its guts out once I get to it! I want some autonomy while driving, and some strong sensations. I can’t even properly vent now.
The fuck she thinks I am! This shit is for kids!
My third cousin feels otherwise. I hear his excited sniffs at every sharp turn and roll-over. He probably even smiles to himself, enjoying the ride.
We reach Spaceport Highway Nine on the other side of the mountain range fast. This is the only road in this region that connects everything.
The road is old, one of the earliest constructed on Medas. It has seen the first settlers of our kennar. Once on the smooth surface, the gear readjusts itself into normal drive state and I hit the gas, going in the opposite direction from Kjrrngvik.
Tarrenat and I have almost completed our apprenticeships at the Engineering Department of the Defense Force, he as a Mechanical Engineer and I am delving additionally into realms of mathematics and mathematical physics, but I cannot tell him or anyone about my other part of the deal with the government. The part where none of the enforcers can stick their noses into. The part where even the lowest of the Peacekeepers has overriding clearance, level I2, being under direct authority of the High Command of the Commonwealth.
It doesn’t make me untouchable, but it gives me access to information I need to protect myself, and to dig my kennar out of the shadows.
Somehow, we will make it through.
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