WARNING: This book is not transferable. It is for your own personal use. If it is sold, shared, or given away, it is an infringement of the copyright of this work and violators will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.

This book is for sale to ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It contains substantial sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which may be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files where they cannot be accessed by minors.

All sexually active characters in this work are 18 years of age or older.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously, though reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

Cover Design: Saskia Walker

Cover Photo: Vassiliki Koutsothanasi

Against the Grain © November 2010 Saskia Walker

eXcessica publishing

A Smashwords Edition

All rights reserved

Against the Grain

By Saskia Walker

Dear Reader,

AGAINST THE GRAIN is set in a future world that was born of the eternal question: “what will gender and sexuality be like in the distant future?” I was introduced to this question through my own reading of authors such as Margaret Atwood, (THE HANDMAID’S TALE,) Marge Piercy, (WOMAN ON THE EDGE OF TIME,) and Storm Constantine, (the WRAETHTHU novels.) AGAINST THE GRAIN is my own voyage into a future world where sexuality has evolved and is controlled by a society that governs whom its citizens should be attracted to. Sexual desire is a powerful force, one that will make us break down boundaries and flout norms when we are in its grip, so you’ve got to know to that trying to control it spells trouble....

I hope you enjoy the story!

Saskia Walker

saskiawalker@gmail.com

www.saskiawalker.co.uk

A short story version of this novella was originally published in the SEXTOPIA anthology under the title ‘Delfidian,’ Circlet Press, Boston, 2001.

Chapter One

“Thus it was found that human beings, in their most impassioned sexual encounters, reverted to their animal origins, indulging in uninhibited acts of lust and degeneracy, often with members of the opposite gender. Whilst this may seem strange to our more advanced species, who would never choose to mate outside our own gender, it also indicates the way in which one’s ancient origins can reveal themselves in the sex act, the most basic function of any species.”

DR MIRANDA K AZEKIAL

Research seminar 87

Central Space Station

Delfidian Timezone 3824.

Aurora clenched her thighs together, crushing her pounding clit between them. Lust was running her ragged, her skin alert to every sensation, a nagging ache at her core demanding action, and soon. To keep from touching herself, she reached for her viewcom, running her fingers along its polished chrome frame, wishing she could reach out and touch him instead. Sullivan’s image flickered and then came back into focus on the screen. Her hand automatically went to her keypad. “Oh, I thought the connection had broken.”

He shook his head. “Still here, and I’ll be back on planet in just few days.”

Heat welled between her thighs in response to that promise. She was desperate to see him. She wanted him. Females weren’t expected to develop strong feelings of attachment to males, but she had. Just looking at his ruggedly handsome face on the viewcom had her desire running wild. He looked so human, so darkly attractive with his mane of thick hair hanging to his shoulders and his deep brown eyes.

He smiled. “You look well.”

His words flattered her. At first she had taken his intimate manner toward her to be respect for his status as a procreator. They had been brought together to mate in the ancient human way, and they respected the roles they shared. Then it occurred to her that his attitude might indicate something else. Right now, there was a sexual edge to his expression. It did strange things to her. She felt as if he had touched her, stroking her pussy in preparation for their joining. Her body was buzzing with need. Did he want it? Did he enjoy it as well?

Aurora knew that he missed the male lover he’d had to leave behind when he’d been assigned to her, but could it be that he felt an attachment to her too? She chastised herself when she realized her thoughts were wandering. It was unexpectedly good sex—that was all.

“Yes, I’m fine. Thank you. And you?” Unable to resist any longer, she reached down and clasped one hand over her pussy through the fabric of her gown.

“Good. The off planet crop trials are going well, I’m pleased with the results. And you, how is your work?”

“Busy, especially so with the centenary celebrations coming up.” Her hand moved against her pussy through the soft material of her gown as she watched him answer. What would he think if he knew she was masturbating under her desk—if he knew that she was that hot for him?

He nodded. “I think we should talk about what’s happening between us, when I get back to Delfidian.”

Concern hit her. Her hand stopped moving. “Is there a problem with the coupling?”

He shook his head, without hesitation. “No, not at all.” He glanced over his shoulder, as if afraid he’d be overheard. “I just want to talk about it. About us.” His beautiful cheekbones were accentuated as he leaned into the viewcom. “Don’t look so worried, Aurora.” He put his hand on the screen, a strangely intimate gesture. “I have to get back to work,” he added, and she saw movement behind him.

Compelled to return his gesture, she put her free hand against his on the screen, and kept it there until he closed the connection and his image faded. Her other hand was still crushed over her mons and, as his image faded, she pulled her gown up and slipped her fingers into the damp folds of her sex, rubbing her clit until relief came. Sullivan. She called to him inside her mind as she masturbated. With her eyes shut, she imagined he was there, his cock hard inside her as he bore down on her, kissing her neck while they mated. Sullivan. Her fingers grew slick with her juices, her clit locked between two knuckles as she rode it hard, thinking of his mouth, his cock and his glorious male body. As she climaxed, her clit thrummed in relief and her core went in spasm. Even so, another thought echoed through her mind: this is wrong.

Slumping back in the chair, she sighed aloud, her thighs trembling in the aftermath. She stared at the blank screen and pushed her doubts away. It wasn’t wrong exactly. It was a task she had been set by their government, The System. She had to mate with him. She just wasn’t supposed to be enjoying it quite so much!

Only a few days until he was back on Delfidian, thank The System. The hormones the medics were building into her body didn’t seem to co-ordinate very well with his absences. At least, that was how she explained away her lust for him. It had to be down to the induced hormones, surely? She shook her head. “You’re just in need of sex, you stupid female.”

Deep down, she couldn’t deny it. She wanted him badly. More than that, she cared for him, for his welfare and his safety. She longed to touch him, to be touched by him. It was quite a bizarre state of mind to have. Delfidian was a predominantly female society. The males of their species had become less necessary over the last millennium, and fewer in number. As a result, females had built up a natural resistance to them. They were exclusively sexually attracted to their own kind. Males were seen as necessary to their society but not essential. Many of the females didn’t even find males likeable creatures. Some believed this it was all down to the battle with hormones, that they had necessarily become resistant to the weaknesses females had suffered in previous species, from previous societies. Forming relationships with males was seen as regressive, a heinous crime to evolution. She couldn’t imagine why she was experiencing a need to know how Sullivan was, to hear his voice and masturbate just because he’d spoken to her. It didn’t compute for her because she was a slave to her logical Creslet genes.

Logic was core to the Creslet mind but it did have an annoying side-effect—the compulsion to analyze everything. She shook her head and gave a wry smile, because the ironic part of her situation with Sullivan was that selected females were given hormones and assigned a male lover, in order to encourage them to bear children. She was one of these women. That was why Sullivan had been introduced into her life. It wasn’t often necessary, due to longevity, direct insemination and the ability to cross-fertilize with other species outside their own. It was more like a token gesture, establishing some notion of heritage into their inter-galactically mongrel species. The planet of Delfidian was colonized centuries before, the population made up of various mixed species: predominantly Humans, but also Creslet, Roganza, and other, lesser races.

The Human genes were what they were most proud of, and Delfidian females were only selected if they were fertile to begin with, thus selecting the best and most economic recipients. In her public role as cultural knowledge supplier in the governing body, it was also appropriate for her to be a birther, to set a good example to other females who rejected the task of coupling with males. Sullivan’s predominately human genes made him a good candidate to be a procreator. Coupling with Sullivan had turned out to be so much more interesting than she thought, though.

The first time they mated, she’d climaxed before he’d even entered her. It had been rather embarrassing at the time. But he’d prepared her so thoroughly—presumably a talent learned in training for his role as a procreator—and when she watched him and experienced his touches, her reaction to the sight of his strong male body had been overwhelming. Was it freakishness, nerves, or sheer arousal? His male body—so different from her own, so different to what she was used to—had not disturbed her as she thought it might. Instead, it had compelled her to take on the task with more willingness and enthusiasm than she had ever imagined possible. Whatever it was, she had begun to dream of him nightly when he was away at his workzone and he was never far from her mind during her waking hours either.

She shook off her curious line of thought and began to prepare for the day ahead, glancing at the day spacer. It was almost time for her to attend her image session, before heading to her own workzone. Aurora was a supplier of knowledge in the arts, ensuring each and every member of their society had access to information on their origins in Human society, through Cultura, a history journal she prepared for consumption each month. Such knowledge was essential. They were no longer purely human, but it was the prime ingredient in their genetic make up. She was part of a team, each member focusing on different fields. Between them they ensured selected knowledge reached every member of their society, from birthing to darkening.

The image session was a chore she wasn’t looking forward to, having her image co-formed with the other governors was bad enough, but the theme of the forthcoming milestone celebrations was historic—they were all to appear as some ancient race of Human warrior women. How ridiculous. It was the furthest thing from what they had become, and had she, the cultural historian, been consulted, she would have advised against such a nonsensical idea.

The image-maker, on the other hand, was not such a chore to think about. Aurora was looking forward to seeing this particular female at work. She crossed to the mirror, stroked her pelt down at the nape of her neck, where it always defied her will, and plucked some color into her lips with her fingers. She smiled at her reflection. Her flame colored fuzz suited her today. Often she was unhappy with her Creslet genes. Her pale skin was much admired, as were her emerald eyes, but there wasn’t a lot you could do with a half body covering of vivid red fur, extending from hairline to tailbone. She tweaked a few strands into spikes on her head, then called the transport controller and alerted them to her readiness.

She stepped outside, eyeing the sky. The outer atmosphere was laden with floating particles, light from the distant suns breaking through here and there, creating a shimmering haze. It made a pleasant image and put her in good spirits. In moments the shuttle arrived, and she was coursing the electronic rails to the other side of the station where Diva, the image-maker, worked. The journey gave her time to let her excess hormones flow in the direction of Diva, which brought about a sense of relief. It was much more normal for her to focus her sexual needs on another female, so she could relax and enjoy it.

Diva was a tall creature, primarily a Roganza by genes but also human-looking, with an excessively long black mane and a jeweled visage, a sign of her role as a Delfidian creator of beauty and strength, embedded in the skin of her face. Tiny jewels and filaments of fine fibers, chosen and given by her teachers to reflect her personal qualities, outlined her exotic purple Roganza eyes and her full mouth, in glistening decorative coils. Roganzans had no whites to their eyes, only color, like cats. With her exotic looks and human hair the effect was particularly stunning. She exuded the kind of beauty and serenity that Aurora had previously only read about in her work with historical documents. Everything about Diva personified a bygone age, and Aurora’s love of ancient beauty meant that she responded immediately to her. Whenever she saw her, a kind of transfixion overcame Aurora, and Diva never flinched under the gaze of those that admired her.

Aurora had met her formally, in The System, and she’d had her image manipulated for government use before. But she hadn’t yet had a personal session to make an image from scratch. When she got to the image-makers zone the door swished open and Aurora looked at the female that walked towards her in amazement. She usually saw Diva dressed in the smooth, draped gowns of formal wear for the publiczone, with her hair trailing down her back loosely. Today, all her hair was tied up and it looked like some wild and ancient human headdress, where it sprung from her head. She wore molded boots and skintight, black leggings, flexible and provocative, a tight purple vest stretched over her breasts.

Aurora bowed her head. “Greetings and blessings of The System, Image-maker.”

“Come in, come in.” Diva gestured, clearly intending to be informal. A mystery bodygraph wavered with movement beneath the skin of her chest, a coiled shape that peeped out from beneath the purple vest and disappeared under it in a cascade of glittering scale-shapes. Aurora could barely drag her eyes from the outline of the other female’s breast, wondering what the bodygraph depicted. Following her hostess, she was immediately confronted by a projectory of the Knowledge suppliers, a moving Imagegram of their last public duty. A massive picture of herself, smiling happily at the comment of one of her co-workers forced Aurora to glance away.