Addicted

 

Words and graphics By Shadar

(Revision: 1)

 

It had started five years ago, while the Enlightenment was busy with more important planets and the Messengers had stopped coming. Hana bought the heavy gold necklaces, and took a human lover. Janus and his twin brother were the strongest men on her assigned planet, selected after a world-wide search for the most virile of  men. She wore the gold for them each night, and they in turn washed away the cares and tribulations of her day in waves of endless passion.

At least, that’s how it went the first six months. Then the hunger returned, and the fires of desire burned even hotter within her. The magical weakness of the gold began fading, even as it fanned her desires further.

By chance, a visiting minor from the Derobian Moon heard of her dilemma, and he knew enough of Velorians to invite her to his home, promising a solution to her growing heat.

A month later, Hana flashed across the region of space between her world and the miner’s moon. Standing before him, dressed in black leather and gold, she dared him to make good his promise. A promise involving his one possession of value: a laser drill that he’d long used it to drill deep into the core of the ancient moon.

Despite the mounds of precious metals and gems he discovered in the rocky core of the moon, no treasure was more valuable to this lonely miner than the Protector as she stood before him that day, her eyes glowing like blue diamonds, her hair the color of spun gold, her body perfection defined. A body hungering for a passionate touch only he could provide.

Gently lifting his prized tool as she hovered in mid-air above him, he pointed its glowing muzzle at her, modestly targeting her stomach, just below her ribs. He fired, and the lethal beam vaporized a fist-sized portion of her black leather, heating her skin to the temperature of the sun. He daringly traced it lower, her leather outfit burning away until his unholy beam found her erotic center.

They both gasped in pleasure as she opened herself to his heat, and he drilled deeply, sending star-like heat to her very core. Impaled on a light beam, her gold necklaces slowly melted, molten metal channeling between her breasts to release her from its bondage and deliver her into the loving arms of Ples’tathy, the passionate fever of a Velorian femme.

His laser, designed for continuous duty, traced her fall to the moon’s surface, his practiced aim remaining focused between her long and slender legs as she lay on her back and cried out in pleasures beyond human understanding.

Returning time and again, Hana soon spent most of her time on his moon, celebrating the endless power of Ples’tathy, her protectorate forgotten despite the increasing boldness of the Arion patrols.

The lonely miner, no longer isolated, grew poor and then hungry as his laser sought the rewards of her flesh as opposed to the rocky core of his moon, his small smelter producing just enough gold each month to begin her next loving.

Joined together in their addictions, one to gold and its erotic possibilities, the other to a goddess whose only pleasure came from his hands, they came to worship each other.

Each month, after her Ples’tathy passed, its effects lasting for one week before going on to two and then three weeks, he would join his thin, starving body with the energy-enhanced voluptuousness and perfect health of hers. She in turn would share her warmth and her enhancing virus, keeping him alive despite lack of food and water.

They lived as such for a year and a month before a visiting Scribe noticed Hana’s absence, heard of her plight, and sought to rescue her. Finding her joined with the grizzled miner in such unholy addiction, she carried Hana back to Velor for treatment.

Returning less than a month later to the lonely moon, she found the miner’s body lying naked in the vacuum, the airlock of his frozen habitat open as he stared lifelessly up at stars.

Searching endlessly for his goddess’ return.