Miznari by Stephanie Burke

Miznari by Stephanie Burke

Miznari

by Stephanie Burke

Changeling Press

Ebook ISBN: 07529-02428

[ Paranormal SciFi Romance, MF ]

Miznari Anderson just discovered her life isn’t as perfect as she imagined. Her boyfriend Mike has the hots for her best friend, Aaron, and now a blue fairy with a broken wing just dropped into her lap. Then the twelve-inch blue fairy turns out to be on the run from an evil pirate who wants to steal his sperm, have his baby, and make herself the next ruler of his planet.

Publisher’s Note: Miznari was first published many years ago in a multi-author anthology.

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Chapter One


“Fucking, disrespectful… assholes.” Miznari’s tirade was cut short by the rim of the wine glass filling her mouth.

She chugged deeply of the red wine, grimacing at the vinegary taste of the thin, watery crap.

“Fucking assholes,” she hissed as she slammed the glass back on the table and promptly refilled it with a hand trembling with anger and frustration. “Dickless wonders.”

But as the headboard began to slam against the wall rhythmically and the grunts and moans of pleasure began to bleed through to the living room, the bottle bypassed the cup altogether and found a new home, right up against her lips.

Within three gulps, the low moans she heard changed to impassioned screams, and the bed began to make a raw grating sound as it slid across the floor.

“Fuck this shit.”

With a scream, the bottle was hurled across the room. Almost poetically, it spun top over bottom, raining down a sanguine waterfall on the carpet, only to shatter against the bright white wall across from her.

“I don’t believe this shit,” she screamed as she lurched to her feet and tugged on the shirt she pulled from the haphazard pile of clothing before she fled the room and the scene of the crime.

“I don’t have to stand for this shit.” She snatched a half-filled glass from the table and eyed the liquid remaining inside.

Her anger carrying her forward, she marched determinedly toward the front door, the glass held triumphantly in her hands… and tripped on the throw rug, spilling more red wine across the white carpet.

She froze for a moment, thinking of Mike’s wrath. Then, an evil grin spread across her face.

“Wheeeee,” she shouted as she took a big gulp, filling her mouth with the repugnant stuff, puffed out her cheeks, and sprayed his pristine white living room with the bitter crap.

Only thing it’s good for, she thought as she watched polka dots and spatters cover the sea of recently white carpet. They landed and spread, like millions of tiny little Rorschach ink blot tests. It was fascinating, really.

“Too good for him, for them,” she snorted as she watched the wine sink in and stain, almost like little drops of blood. The only evidence of the murder that had taken place here. She looked back on the dead body of her relationship with both her lover and her best friend, and scowled again.

“It was my fantasy. Mine. You selfish bastards,” she growled.

But who knew that Mike, her extremely open and experimental boyfriend of almost a year, would possess latent gay tendencies? Once they were all naked and rolling around on Mike’s huge bed, suddenly she realized that she had become a third wheel. An unwanted third wheel.

What tipped her off? It may have been the way they almost literally shoved her to the side so that they could grope each other. It may have been the sexual lingo going on around her, Mike’s excited, “Dude, I’ve never seen one that big,” before he practically knocked her out of the bed to get his lips around it.

It may have even been Aaron’s guilty look at her as Mike pulled him away from her rapidly drying cunt to suck face with him.

But her biggest clue was Mike’s startled, “Fresh fish on the line,” comment as he first got a good look at Aaron in the nude. Sure Aaron was hung, but damn. His girlfriend — repeat, girlfriend — was standing right next to him.

Finally, she got to her feet and turned to look at the sweaty duo rolling around in the bed. Aaron had turned and reached for her, trying to either get away from Mike or to get her back into the bed, but then Mike did something guaranteed to block all conscious thought from Aaron’s brain. He deep-throated him and began to hum.

Aaron’s eyes slammed shut and Miz slammed the door on her way out.

“It was supposed to be a thing of beauty,” she muttered as she sidestepped pieces of broken glass, snatched her purse from the side table, and casually knocked a few of Mike’s precious crystal pieces on the ground. When they didn’t shatter, she hefted the backpack she used as a pocketbook, and dropped the weighty thing on top of them.

That got ‘em, she thought as a muffled crash signified the passing of a family of crystal dogs.

She looked back once more as masculine screams began to fill the air. She recognized Mike’s preorgasmic scream and knew that he would last only minutes. You recognized things like that when you have been lovers for so long, she decided. But this was not the way the story was supposed to have ended.

In her reasoning, all three of them would have been screaming and roaring, and laughing their way to the best full-body orgasms they had ever felt. Instead she was on her way out the door and out of a relationship, too. Snorting, she turned and slammed the door, making sure that it struck hard enough to vibrate the wall and knock down a few specially framed pictures of those damn dogs Mike was so fond of.

She listened for a second then started to grin as she heard three telltale crashes. Bingo. Calm planning and thoughtful action did pay off. So did her physics classes on the effect of motion.

“Bum, bum, bum, another one bites the dust-a,” she sang as she stalked barefoot, bare bottomed, clad only in Mike’s favorite shirt, to the elevator of the penthouse suite. “And another one gone, and another one gone, another one bites the dust.”

When the elevator doors opened, she peered in and saw a distinguished older man standing there in his three-piece suit, one foot poised to exit as he caught sight of her.

“Here,” she said sweetly as she reached her hand into the backpack and emerged with the purple dildo. “Compliments of Mike Cosner,” she added as she slapped the thick fake schlong into his hand.

The man eased past her and made for his door, shooting furtive glances behind him as he went, but she noticed he eyed Mike’s door speculatively and that he didn’t drop the dildo.

Damn, I may have just done the bastard a favor, she thought as she pressed the button for the garage level.

When she got there, she ignored the curious looks as she made her way toward her truck, her ‘91 fire-engine red Jeep Cherokee Laredo. It was a little old and worn, like her, but it was reliable. Also like her, she decided, as she pressed the remote entry, tugged on the stubborn door, and slid behind the driver’s seat.

She turned to find something to throw on. It was getting rather cold, and she pumped the heat up to the max. She knew it would take a few moments to warm up, so she needed a blanket or a towel or something. But as she stared at the collection of stuff in her back seat, the sketchpads, the makeup kits, the in-line skates, the skateboard and the coiled bungee rope that rested under the Navajo blanket she finally spied, she felt a wave of depression come over her.

Was this how she lived her life, from one thrill to the next? She huffed as she wrapped the blanket around her body and stared at the lighted garage, thinking about her existence. Was there anything sexual that she hadn’t tried?

Probably not, but that last attempt at a three-way didn’t count. Frankly, she’d kind of lost her taste for the whole thing. And then there were her sports, her jumping, and kamikaze biking. The white water canoeing and trick boarding. Not to mention her stint as a BMX trick-rider that had ended with a leg broken in three places and an appreciation for wheelchair sports. She had learned to race her souped-up wheelchair after that one, and actually had done some neat two-wheel tricks with it.

But was that all she had in life? That and the comic book, the makeup, the book covers, and her correspondence with her two friends. They might have seemed straightlaced and boring, but she envied them. They knew where their life was going, they had purpose.

She only skated through life looking for the next thrill, the next adrenaline rush, and the next near-death experience she got high off of. And that depressed her even more.

And driving barefoot was no big thing to her. After all, she was a nature nut, an outcast, an extrovert, and an extremist. It was par for the course in a day for her. But as she started her car and slowly drove back to her hotel, a hotel room she shared with Aaron, she decided that the emperor had plenty of clothes.

Clothes for sports, clothes for partying, clothes for everyday life. Clothes for seduction. But the damn emperor was barefoot. Fuck clothes. She had no shoes, no grounding, no roots. And from her point of view, that was much sadder.

* * *

His head slammed back against the tangled blankets on the sleep pad as he twisted his wrists inside of the padded cuffs. Sweat rolled from his body in rivers as his eyes, dazed and dilated, stared sightlessly into space. His breathing, already ragged, increased in rhythm as he felt his muscles began to tense, his back arched, and a burning tingling began at the base of his spine. Rolling his head from side to side, he bit his lip, his small fangs drawing blood that blended with the sweat running down his face as his body bounced on the padding.

“Yes,” the excited woman above shouted as she felt his balls draw up in their sac, and felt his substantial cock grow even more within the tight clasp of her body. “Yes. Soon it will all be mine.”

But nothing else was said as his body tensed, his mouth opened in a silent roar, as his release tore through his bound body, as his cock exploded deep within her, depositing his fluid into her hungry body. With a silent scream on his lips, Kell jerked upright and was struck by waves of nausea.

“That should do it, my prince,” the woman sneered as she stared down with cold silver eyes at the prone man. “After this, it will surely all belong to me.”

Her words echoed in Kell’s mind as his eyes popped open and he struggled to regain his bearings, to find out where he was. Earth, he remembered, as he rolled to his knees and attempted to gain his feet. As he rose, he began to shiver as his body, not dressed for the chilly climate, reacted.

The small loin-skirt, all he could steal as he made his escape, was not a fit garment for a prince, let alone a lost traveler on the run for his life. But he had little choice in the matter. Stinza had seen to that.

Stinza was a pirate, and a good one, too. Kell almost admired her tenacity. The League had been trying to stop her for some time, but with little success. She always seemed to be a step ahead of the authorities and remained a menace to the twelve League planets and the people they served.

But he had learned something about Stinza after she attacked his ship and decided to keep him in sexual bondage. She wanted to go legitimate. She wanted to be a ruler. And she didn’t want to rule just any world.

She wanted his world. The whys and what-fors were easy enough to figure out. Female succession.

Lorndale was a matriarchal society, with the males happily being warriors and philosophers and peacefully co-existing with the female of the species, who were known to be the best mediators and peacekeepers. On his home world, the arts flourished. The warriors, male and female, trained not only mind and body, but spirit, and were formidable strategists.

Anyone gaining control of his people would have a formidable army at their disposal, the technology to create weapons of mass destruction, and would gain the upper hand when negotiating with other planets, League and non-League alike. And Stinza wanted that control.

Whore of nations, he silently spat as he replayed the destruction of his ship one last time. Three shots and it was over, his scout hunter overtaken by her heavier dreadnought, his communications shot, his body taken captive. He doubted that his quick alert to his guard had gotten through the jammer they used before they blasted him out of space, but he did manage to send off a distress call.

Twenty-three rotations, he thought as he looked around his barren surroundings. Twenty-three rotations around this backward planet that Stinza knew his people would avoid. No one wanted to be detected by this unenlightened colony of carbon sacks; no one wanted to disturb their growth and development. And no one wanted to fall victim to their brutality that survivors of crash landings reported.

So Stinza circled this barbarous world and tried to get issue from his seed, something that was doomed to failure. But he remembered when Stinza discovered why her prodigious drug-induced couplings with her captive prince yielded no pregnancy.

“How dare you?”

Uh oh, he thought as Stinza barreled into the room, her usually pale face a mass of red fury.

“You have an implant.”

He would have shrugged if he wasn’t tied so tight, but the smug expression on his face said it all.

“Damn you, Kell,” she snarled before she snapped her fingers and two burly women entered the room.

“I know what you are, my prince,” she hissed as she bent over his prone body. “And I know what your seed is worth. You will deliver unto me what I most desire and then I will find a way to make an example out of you.”

“Find it, remove it, and drug him with our most powerful aphrodisiacs,” she snapped at the two zombie-like women. Then a wicked grin spread across her face. “Use the ones that mimic a mate-bond. I want a baby by this glow bug, I want him to lust after me more than his own life. I want him broken. Then you and the rest of the crew can have him.”

Not good, Kell thought as he fought down panic. If they could successfully mimic a mate-bond… And if she managed to break him, to turn him into a starving creature willing to do her every whim… If he remembered correctly, there were both male and female members in this particular crew. Not that he had anything against same-sex couplings, it was just that he didn’t think the men would take care in deflowering his royal ass. And the women… well, looking at the two who now eagerly bounced over to his pad, declined frequent bathing.

If he willingly let them abuse his body…

It was time to leave.

As he mentally worked over the plans he had been formulating, one of the women ran a glowing medical scanner over his body. Within seconds, she found the implant. While she was neutralizing its effectiveness with a powerful burst of radiation — thank the Creator that she didn’t opt for surgery — the other female was shooting him with an aphro far more powerful and far more dangerous than the ones Stinza had been using before.

Almost instantly, he felt a wave of heat pass through his body, felt his cock engorge with blood until it was throbbing most painfully, dripping pre-cum like a faucet. His skin began to take on a very agitated glow, becoming so sensitive that even the recycled air circulating in the room caused him to writhe and tug against the bindings that held him.

“And we’ll leave him for an hour or so,” Stinza smirked as she stared at his prone body. “Just to make sure he really wants to sow his seeds with me. His body will believe that it’s bonded with the first female who puts out enough sexual scent trails. That woman will be me.”

Giggling, she and her crew left the room, leaving Kell to his new torment, and to begin his desperate flight for freedom. But he knew that in this condition, he would not make it past the first guards before collapsing into a hungry lust-filled heap. There was only one thing for him to do.

Closing his eyes, he tried to ignore the flush of heat that seemed to surround his body, and tried to concentrate on his inner mind, to reach the part of him that would allow him to enter into his secular form, the energy form that would negate the effectiveness of the drugs while allowing him an added advantage most people never knew about.

The second form was a big secret among his people and hopefully would stay that way after he was gone from this captivity. He closed his eyes… and pictured himself flying. Within seconds, a glow floated from within his body, a glow that managed to lock away the effect of the powerful drug, while his new form subsumed the old.

There was a brilliant flash of light, and then Kell, first and only son of Landu and Kellista, was no more. And in his place was a small blue-winged creature. A creature with knowledge to operate a matter transference chamber that was easy to locate and enter when everyone was searching for a seven-foot man.

It was nothing for him to slip through a vent, fly low to evade a few dazed pirates, slip into the berth, and launch a transfer sequence before Stinza knew he was missing. The only problem, there was only one place to go. He knew he had to find safe haven and fast. Stinza would be able to track this transfer, and the only place he could lose her was the small blue planet with a large yellow sun.

Like a flash of lightning, he zipped from the berth to land on what seemed to be a cold stretch of barren land. But in the distance, he saw lights. It was the logical place to go, he decided, if he wanted to evade Stinza and seek some type of help. He started walking, his body shivering with cold, but his eyes glowing with the fire of determination.

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