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THE TRIGON RITUALS II: DEEP PRESSURE
By
Angelia Whiting
© copyright January 2007, Angelia Whiting
Cover Art by Jenny Dixon, © copyright January 2007
New Concepts Publishing
Lake Park, GA 31636
www.newconceptspublishing.com
This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author’s imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.
-My sincerest thanks to Janalee R. for your wonderful comments.
-To De Shanna thanks for the help-love ya darlin’
Transcending the galaxies the hunt has begun.
Two come to claim her and three become one.
Prelude
Deep within the CalyTron Galaxy in the sector known as the Third Ward, more than fifteen hundred phases back, the ancient planet of Tertia was just beginning to travel amongst the stars. Led by a team of mostly females, they were the first of their kind that would soar to skies afar. Their first stop was a nearby planet. Uninhabited and vastly rich with resources and wildlife, it was dubbed the sister planet to Tertia and became known as Terta Minor.
By the end of the epoch many Tertani had transmigrated and the planets flourished. Technology on both worlds abounded, as well, and it wasn't long before the Tertani advanced beyond the forefront of space exploration, developing the capability to navigate the galaxy beyond their homeland territories. New worlds were discovered, some deserted, some primitive, and some possessing knowledge that was exceedingly more advanced than the Tertani could have ever imagined. And within the axis of these progressive societies, they found a highly organized, intergalactic system. Under the control of a regulatory commission, known as the Galactic Allegiance it was the means by which the societies within the CalyTron Galaxy kept law and order. Consisting of representatives from each of the planets, the Tertani were eager and pleased to join their folds.
It was an exciting time in Tertian history, for their advancement in space exploration was about to explode. Tertia and Terta Minor were keeping company with the greatest explorers and the most advanced societies that they had ever known. Tertani females in particular clamored to be part of these first expeditions. Restless by nature and with an innate sense of adventure they became almost feverish about participating in space voyages. In addition to that and much to their pleasure, the vastness of the universe provided a greater distance to which they could run when the whim struck them. Far be it for the Tertani males to interfere with this need, for not one would argue with the females' penchant for fleeing.
Particularly when it came to sex and breeding.
As an undomesticated culture long ago, the Tertani women once traveled in aggregates away from the men, roaming freely on the Tertian terrains. In order to marry and mate, the men had to stalk them down. Of course, it wasn't uncommon for a female to become overwhelmed by two alpha warriors, known as the brethren males, intent on ravaging her body. Thus came the reaction to escape. It was instinctive, an intrinsic part of their natures, carried through the generations from the dawnings of old. A deeply revered spiritual element of the Trigon Rituals, this fleeing of the females and stalking by the males was called the Triconjugal Hunt. But it was more a celebration than it was a frustration. In fact, once the summoning of two males to the Trigon and the subsequent translinking, or blending of their minds had begun, they much enjoyed the chase. Just as it was in their ancient history, the same still held for the Tertani men of the modern age.
The faster and harder their female ran, greater was the impulse and the pleasure to pursue her. And the longer a time it took to capture and claim their Tina--the Tertian word for virgin, the more aggressive and persistent and sexually aroused the Trigon males would become, urging them on a relentless quest for her.
And dare no man or beast or spirit get in their way.
By the time the Tertani people were fully integrated within the advanced societies of CalyTron, more than seventy percent of their unmated women had become nomadic, visiting planet after planet in the galaxy. Though this resulted in a higher proportion of Tertani men living on the home planets than women, it really brought no concern, for they were never known to marry with other than their own kind. It was by sacred blessing of the Mahatma Divinities that the Trigon brethren found their mate.
And she was always a Tertani female.
Until catastrophe struck.
Known as Brits Scorn, there was no cure. It came in the form of a highly contagious, sexually transmitted disease, and since sex was considered a recreational activity by many in CalyTron, it spread quite easily. But because it took epochs to thread its way through the galaxy the impending devastation that Brits Scorn would eventually cause was not immediately recognized.
It affected females and males differently. Where infected males typically lived to their life’s full expectancy, the disease slowly ate away at their brains, making them violently aggressive, but no less intelligent. Females on the other hand, didn't become aggressive, but they usually died within three to five phases, or years. Some females escaped infection but became carriers and could infect the males they had sex with. Infected Babies born to them before reaching their first phase of life. Some of the offspring were born as carriers, while other babes were completely free of the disease. Of those free of disease, the females were sterile, but for unknown reasons, the males were not.
The disease first ran rampant on the planet Krell. It began as a curse cast by the faerie, Windi Britny some epochs back, after she was violated by Jonhi, a Krellian prince. Though clans of Krellians managed to escape, the disease eventually snatched every individual who remained there. Realizing the future of their race was doomed, the Krellian males, in their madness from being tainted, began a reign of war, organizing a massive invasion of as many planets as they could conquer. Men were slaughtered, women, mated or unmated were seized, repeatedly passed around and brutally raped as the Krellians sought to breed.
Though the Galactic Allegiance deployed military regiments and managed to set up perimeters that held the Krellians at bay, Brits Scorn had become epidemic and crept its way to many planets in the galaxy. As a result, a high percentage of men driven to insanity and irrationality by Brits Scorn, joined and fought on the side of the Krellians. Collectively they were known as the Radicals and became the enemy of the Galactic Allegiance.
Subsequently, The ISDS--Intergalactic System for Disease and Sickness Control began to move quickly. Quarantines and galaxy-wide medical screenings were called for. Infected individuals were barred from society and banished to the colonies of Puratan to live out the remainder of their days. But despite the massive effort to eradicate the disease, it was already too late. Of the fifty-two planets, thirty already harbored many individuals who were contaminated and it was impossible to find and isolated them all.
As Brits Scorn spread, infected women began to die. The balance between males and females became exceedingly unequal and the availability of fertile, untainted females became a dire need.
The Tertani were no exception.
With the majority of their women living away from the homelands, they too were succumbing to Brits Scorn, though it was mainly by rape since Tertani women typically remained virgins until the time came to mate. Regrettably, it was their virginity and guarantee of being untainted that made them prime targets. It meant more babes--offspring, for the Krellians and their Radicals assuring, at least in their own warped minds, the continuation of their race.
The number of Tertani females became critically diminished. Fewer and fewer Tertani men were being called to the Trigon, threatening to drive the race to extinction.
The Mahatma Tribunal finally intervened. As spiritual leaders of the Tertani culture they beseeched the Mahatma Divinities for mercy.
Their pleas were heard.
Tinas from outside of Tertani society were revealed to the Trigon males, women they were capable of mating with, of siring children with.
Women they were capable of loving.
The brethren eagerly sought these females finding them on a number of planets throughout the universe.
And one of these planets was a place called earth.
6
Earth: Three years before Tren and Rjant claim Alea.
Calytron Galaxy Cosmic Date: 249 Epochs
Lemac and Dgor search for their mate
This is Karen Whitaker's story:
Chapter One
A gasp left Karen's mouth. One firm hand fondled her breast. Another rubbed between her thighs, his palm flat and pressing as he cupped her. Behind her a sturdy cock shifted against her bottom. Unyielding lips clamped tightly to her mouth. A tongue dashed in and out. He was wrapped all around her, solidly holding her in place, the pressure from his body--deep, soothing, arousing, strangely so, since she still had her clothes on. He never removed her clothes.
She started to climax.
Onw steb tixe--It is time to leave you now.
No, Karen protested. Why did he always abandon her just before...?
Stuj roftib--Only for awhile...
Karen's eyes lifted slowly.
She was in a state of frenzied arousal that had her moaning sexual need. Her thought waves tapped along her brain, sliding her from sleep and back into reality, and she realized she'd had another one of those dreams.
Bart Phillips stood in the aisle and was staring at her.
She stared back.
“That must’ve have been some dream.”
Her eyes widened as she felt herself blush from the top of her head straight down to the tip of her toes. Was she writhing in her sleep? Oh God! What had he seen?
“Are we there yet?” Karen glanced out the plane’s window, noting sunny blue skies all around and clouds way below. She gasped at the dark green spikes jutting everywhere through the white mantle for as far as her eyes could see. It was the very tips of the Amazon canopy, the plane flying so close to them Karen could swear she heard the bottom of the craft graze a few. Her stomach flipped and disconcerted by that thought, Karen turned her head away.
Bart was still staring at her.
And smirking.
Pushing at the heavy blanket that Karen hid beneath, she stood abruptly, the covering falling to a heap on the floor. Bart's smile widened and Karen didn’t have to look down to know her nipples, still tingling from the touch of her shadowy dream lover, were hard and poking through the light blue, spandex material barely concealing her braless breasts.
Her blush deepened.
She never wore a bra, couldn't stand the way the lingerie clenched at her shoulders and ribs. It was a good thing her breasts were small and perky instead of a couple of plumbobs dangling in the breeze otherwise she might not get away with it.
Gripping the opening of the sleeveless blouse that Karen wore as an over-garment, she pulled it closed. “I have to go to the bathroom.”
“Need help?”
Ignoring the comment, Karen snatched her travel sack from the seat beside her and pushed Bart aside gaining access to the plane’s narrow aisle. She stalked to the back of the craft, irked by the sense of his eyes burning into her ass as she moved.
Jerk. She wasn’t in the mood for his teasing. Karen had too many things to think about right now, like how the plane was going to maneuver through those massive trees and of lusty dreams that like the spread of the Amazon jungle never seemed to cease.
Karen reached for the handle on the slit of a door to the bathroom. Simultaneously the plane hit a series of air pockets and the craft began to dip and rise. Her stomach lurched opposite to the movements and she grimaced. It would only be a matter of seconds before a secondary reaction assaulted her. Slipping quickly through the door, Karen locked it shut behind her. She fell back against it and then slid downward until her bottom was planted on the floor. The anxiety slammed through her and Karen closed her eyes hoping it passed quickly. Crossing one arm over the other, Karen squeezed them tightly to her chest. She shrugged up her shoulders and tensed while pressing against the door putting pressure on her back. It was a technique she used to self-calm. Sudden changes in movement, particularly when it was simultaneously bidirectional, sent Karen's nervous system into a tailspin.
Karen would never consider riding a rollercoaster with its frequent twists and turns or, god forbid, anything that went loopity-loop. She even had trouble with the round and round, up and down movements of a merry-go-round horse. It didn't matter that Karen realized she wasn't falling. Her body couldn't adjust quickly enough and physically reacted as if it might.
Vestibular Processing Disorder.
She'd had it all her life. It was the reason she avoided most amusement park rides.
And airplanes.
“Why the hell am I on this plane,” she whispered to herself.
Taking in a deep breath she began to relax, one muscle at a time. “Beetle secretions that’s why.”
Slowly Karen rocked herself from side to side. Just as a mother might do with her infant, the linear swinging motion was calming. She released a long breath until the tension began to melt away. The plane continued to sway around her but Karen could tolerate it, at least for the moment.
“Twenty thousand dollars for collecting bug juice.” Not that Karen needed the money. The combination of her trust fund with her salary afforded Karen quite a cushy income. She was more interested in the research than the money.
Reaching up, Karen grasped the rim of the sink and pulled herself to a stand. She looked in the mirror. Hazel eyes stared back at her, red and somewhat glazed from the deep sleep she'd just emerged from. “I must be crazy.”
The last time Karen was on a plane--her parent's private jet plane, she threw up all over the place. Of course she was only three years old and her jetsetter parents attributed it to air sickness. On the return flight, she kicked and screeched all the way down the concourse and then cried on and off--mostly on--during the entire four hour journey home. Nothing her parents did comforted her. Her anxiety had escalated to a point of no return. That is, until she went into shut down as the plane landed, falling asleep for nearly twenty hours afterward. It was a long ago memory firmly embedded in Karen's mind, though she was told that her aversion to flying was par for the course since the day she was born. Her independently wealthy, we must be in whatever trendy part of the world this year, parents likely had grown tired of her in-flight tantrums. They never took her on another trip after that. Even as she got older and they asked, hoping her condition had passed, Karen always told them, no. It didn't stop her mother and father from their lavish travels, however. And for long periods of times, weeks, sometimes months, they left her home alone. Well, not exactly alone. There was a staff of twenty-five that resided in the Whitaker mansion estate, all more than willing to fulfill Karen's every whim, though somehow she ended up appreciating her luxuries instead of becoming spoiled by them.
Karen shrugged off her blouse, unbuttoned her jeans and pushed them down. She peeled her arms out of the long sleeves of the full-length, one piece, body suit she wore and then stretched the spandex material over her bottom. She plopped down on the commode, gritting her teeth against the feeling of the cold seat.
“Look at me, Jen.” Karen mumbled to herself. Jennifer Sealy was Karen’s best friend. Jennifer Sealy was also five years dead. “My mom would go into shock if she knew I was on this trip.”
But she didn't know. Karen hadn't spoken to her parents for four months and she had no idea what part of the world they were venturing in at the moment.
They would eventually call.
Eventually.
Other than Jen, no one understood. Not her parents, or the staff, or the nanny who Karen knew better than her own mother, or the string of psychiatrists who tried to cure her.
Fear of flying, fear of heights, fear of being touched, fear of crowds, yadda yadda yadda...
All of the diagnosed phobias they labeled her with were enough to make Karen phobia-phobic.
Her favorite was the fear of nudity.
“Nudity,” Karen snorted.
She would prefer to run nude if it was socially acceptable given how terribly awful and scratchy most clothing felt against her flesh, especially the stitching or seams, and the annoying tags she always ripped from the neckline. It's why she wore the seamless, leotard. They were custom made and Karen wore them beneath all of her typical clothing, though she suspected most people found her manner of dressing far from typical. It was such a pain in the ass struggling out of tight garment, especially when she had to pee in a hurry. But Karen's choices were to either wear the bodysuit, or feel irritated all day long by cloth she found exceedingly offensive. The skin hugging material of the bodysuit also compressed against her skin and Karen found it to be soothing. It was a secondary reason she wore them and had the same effect as cuddling under the heavy blanket she'd brought on the flight. The two combined gave her the ability to tolerate many of the environmental stimuli that she was defensive against.
Such as this god forsaken, tiny airplane she was now flying in.
That was swaying.
And bobbing up and down.
In the air ….
And with the ground miles beneath her and treetops that threatened to split them wide open spilling passengers into the Amazon basin like coins dropping into the tray of a paying slot machine.
Minus the chink, chink, chink.
It would be more like a splat, splat, splat.
“Damn.” Karen dropped her face to her hands as another wave of uneasiness swept through her stomach. It wasn’t hitting the ground she was worried about. I’d probably like the hard impact that would occur right before I died, Karen dolefully thought.
It was the falling through the air that concerned her. She didn’t want puking all over the Amazon to be known as her last act on earth. “Put it out of your head.”
The whole of her thoughts would actually be quite amusing if Karen’s body wasn’t working so hard to keep her nervous system homeostatic. Her mind wasn’t helping. She started to hum a low, rhythmic tune to help with the bio-regulating process--white noise--Karen called it, soothing to her senses.
There was a knock on the door. “Karen, are you okay?”
It was Jillia Dalij, a colleague and one of the five scientists from Westbrook Pharmaceuticals that were contracted for this Amazon project. Jillia was assigned as team leader of the expedition though she’d only been working for the company for three months. Karen supposed it was because Jillia came with exceptional credentials as well as extensive experience in fieldwork. Whatever it was, Karen’s colleague seemed to know a lot about a lot of things.
“I'm fine,” Karen answered. I'll be out in a minute.”
“Bart sent me back to check on you, he said you looked a little flushed.”
“I'll bet he did,” Karen murmured too low for Jillia to hear.
Bart was always sniffing around her and Karen flatly ignored his flirtations. He was handsome enough, and though she really didn’t have a policy against dating men she worked with, Karen wasn’t attracted to him. As a colleague and a friend, Bart was okay and Karen might’ve been interested in something further if it wasn’t for the very real problem she had with all men.
Karen couldn’t stand them.
It wasn’t because she was a lesbian, or some hostile man-hater. It was because they were extremely bothersome to her--bothersome in the sense that when a man got too close, she wanted to take a few steps back. In fact, Karen had trouble tolerating the nearness of any human being, not alone being touched by them. Male or female, it didn’t matter who it was. Karen always shrank away, preferring to keep a wide personal space around her.
“Phobias my ass,” Karen whispered.
She was an adult before discovering that her psychiatrists were all full of shit. What she really had was called Sensory Defensiveness.
“Did you say something, Karen?” Jillia was still standing outside of the door apparently.
“I’m talking to my alternate personality.” Geez can’t a girl take a leak in private?
She heard Jillia’s chuckle through the door.
Standing, Karen shimmied back into her body suit, relaxing a bit as the material molded all over her flesh. She donned her blouse and yanked up her jeans, fastening them. After washing and drying her hands, she stepped through the door.
“Flushed my ass, you're as white as a ghost.” Jillia was standing in the tiny space outside of the bathroom when Karen came out. “Are you air sick?”
“No.” Karen answered, keenly aware that Jillia was much too close, her invasive nearness causing Karen to grit her teeth.
Jillia looked at her askew, doubtful.
What could Karen say? Whenever she tried to explain the truth, people always responded as if she were crazy. “Okay, maybe a little air sick.”
It was likely Jillia would be no different. And she couldn't stand another round of you should see a psychiatrist or just get over it.
Just get over it. People were idiots sometimes.
“Well, we're almost there.” Jillia gave her a sympathetic look.
Karen glanced up the aisle. The plane was about half full with only twenty passengers on board. It was a small charter flight they'd transferred to after landing in Lima, Peru.
Nodding in response to Jillia's comment, Karen slipped by her colleague and headed back toward her seat. She hoped that Jillia wouldn't sit beside her and was relieved when she sat in the row just in front of Karen, next to Devlin Brown. He was another of the Westbrook scientists on the flight, and his specialty was in entomology--bugs.
Taking her seat, Karen sighed in relief. She wanted as much personal space around her as she could claim. Grabbing her blanket from the floor, Karen cuddled beneath it, shifting until the material was smoothly and comfortably cocooning her.
“Attention ladies and gentlemen.” A chime sounded and the fasten seat belt light came on just as the stewardess began speaking. “The captain has informed me we're beginning our descent. Please place your seats in the upright position and check that your seatbelts are fastened.”
Karen fumbled for the ends of her belt, and then clicked them together. She tugged a few times to make sure the belt was secure. Outside of the airplane’s window she could see the fringe of the cloud front ahead in the distance--clear beyond that, it would be sunny where they touched down. As for now, it appeared they would be submerged in the clouds before reaching their destination.
The clouds came up beneath them, and wispy tree tips brushed by, wrenching a fearful shudder from Karen. Suddenly the plane became fully consumed in the whiteness of clouds, obscuring her vision.
Holy shit. Was the pilot navigating between the trees? She really didn’t want to know and was glad she couldn’t see.
To the sound of landing gear locking in place and the jolting of the plane, Karen closed her eyes. She had no desire to watch when they burst through the bottom of the clouds and dropped through the skies. She instead let her thoughts drift to images of her erotic, reoccurring dreams.
It began several months back, with the sound of voices beckoning her, though she really couldn't understand what they were saying. But the lilt was so alluring, sensual and exciting, that Karen couldn't help but call to the voices speaking from somewhere in the darkness. This happened a few more times until finally, a shadowy image emerged. The essence embraced Karen and draped her body, the touch of it so firm and comforting that she relaxed immediately, enjoying the arousing sensation and thorough exploration of what felt like lips kissing her mouth, hands kneading her breasts and a palm rubbing her between the thighs.
But he withdrew from her before she peaked.
Karen marveled at the wet dream, admitting that she'd never had one so intense and so vividly realistic before.
He came back to her.
Though the image was still a blur, this second time Karen could actually feel the strong, masculine form. Instead of shrinking away as she normally would have with physical contact, Karen responded with pleasure to the hard body firmly wrapping and tangling with hers. Withdrawing and vanishing again, the dream disintegrated before Karen could experience her climax. It was exasperating, but also enticing, and Karen worried that she was becoming too preoccupied with a mere dream. Still she had to sleep, and she couldn't help what happened in her dreams.
Right?
Was it so wrong that she enjoyed it?
Hell no!
It's not like she was getting sexual stimulation anywhere else. So what was the big deal? If only he would just let her cum. He never let her have an orgasm, but only took her to the brink and then left her, fully clothed, frustrated and craving more. Despite that, she always looked forward to his return.
He did always return, bringing her to heights of arousal, each time seeming more powerful and passionate than the last. As usual he retreated before her passion could be fully realized and without her knowing what he looked like.
But this last dream, the one Karen experienced on the plane was different. Instead of the ghostly images of an ethereal lover, she saw more vividly, solid and realistically than ever before. Hard and muscled, hands gripped her all over. Full lips that held no boundaries, kissed her in more than a single place at one time. And there was no mistaking the hard erection thrusting at her in front, but also from behind, pressing her firmly in between.
“God, those eyes,” Karen murmured and then grimaced when she lifted her lids to see Jillia peeking over the top of the seat.
Karen shrugged. “Alternate personality?”
A discerning smirked formed on Jillia’s mouth causing Karen a twinge of suspicion. What does she think she knows?
Karen wrinkled her brow, but Jillia didn’t comment as she turned back around. Dismissing it as being nothing, Karen closed her eyes and returned to her thoughts. It took little effort to the gather the images of what she saw. Sparkling blue eyes like topaz, he gazed at her as he kissed her. A hand grasped her beneath the chin, breaking the kiss and turning her head aside. She saw deeper blue eyes, like sapphires. But it was the gold that rimmed the irises that caught her notice. Whatever the color, they were stunningly captivating. They captured her gaze, taking possession, searing her pounding heart with the promise of ecstasy. And there was no mistaking the lust that sizzled within those ethereal eyes, wanting, desiring her, adoring and admiring her in a way that no one ever had before. The images, the sensual whispers were acutely clear, so much so that Karen was able to visually distinguish almost everything she was feeling. And she didn't know whether to be frightened or aroused by it.
Or to be disturbed.
Separate voices...
Karen swallowed hard and opened her eyes just as they broke through the clouds. Sunshine burst forth. Brilliant and diversely green flora covered the Amazon landscape for as far as she could see.
The forceful pressure that she could feel all over her body at once.
Karen’s chest heaved with her heavy breathing.
Outside the window, the winding Amazon River, darting in and out of the jungle’s trees below came into view as they rushed toward the ground.
Four hands...
Karen gripped the arms of the seat as the plane aligned with the runway below. Her stomach flipped and she squeezed her eyes shut.
Oh my god.
The aircraft jerked as it touched down, rattling and rushing forward.
It screeched to a stop.
And so did Karen's erratically beating heart.
The man in her dreams, masculine and demanding, the man that insinuated himself on Karen's body bringing her to the pinnacle of frenzied lust wasn't one man at all.
He was two.
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