Himmler's Journal News: In this chapter of his life, Auzdein von Himmler beds down the impressive Lady Jaye.
This journal entry touches upon one of the later days of Auzdein's interaction with Lady Jaye.
Lady Jaye, elite female commando of the G.I. Joes unit, was sent by the Joes, as they call themselves, to investigate what no other military or scientific force could look into, let alone explain; the interdimensional city called Inisfree; its existence speculated based upon the intelligence being gathered about the operations of its military force called 'The 2nd Secret Army'. That elite force of black-ops commandos had worried the Joes with their pre-Rapture Campaign missions. Arriving at its mythical location, which almost all others before her had only been able to wander around within and through, never once finding the legendary mile-high ice-wall perimeter of the great city, she was allowed to walk through the imperceptible, sphere-shaped, dimensional-doorway that serves as one of its many concentric ‘bubbles’ of concealment and protection. While so many before her had not been of suitable physique to the Inisfreean standard, Lady Jaye had just barely ‘passed the bar’. After the only publically-known gate had yawned open as the titanic drawbridge variant it was, Lady Jaye had borne witness to the sensual challenge-and-pass of the Inisfreean gatekeepers (on Inisfree’s equivalent of ‘fire-watch’) there-within, then been given the full 40+ days-long tour of the whole city. Naturally becoming enamored with its ‘king’, for lack of a better term in the very primitive English language, Lady Jaye soon began to share Auzdein’s many beds with him, after which he deemed it prudent to reassure her and those who'd sent her that they were not among his force's targets. And that takes us to the start of this story, as entered by the Grid Mind into the automated journal of the king, Lord Auzdein…
She says one night, out of the blue, letting me know she knows my original/birth-name: “I love you, Austin.” I pause, smirking, knowing immediately what she is doing; that she, like all girls, loves the risk and rise and rush of seeing what her beauty and sexiness will let her get away with, and how sly and sharp (quick; cunning; clever) she is with dropping BIG hints; that she is still, as I reassured her the other night, a great spy.
“Not many people know me by that name,” I squeeze her gently in a hug as we continue to lie there together, “Alison.” I use her real first name to let her know I (and “I” includes my extension-of-self, Inisfree) am a fantastic, world-class spy, too. My tone indicates playfulness with just a hint of feigned menace to get her going; her juices flowing –as well as her blood/heart(rate).
Her eyes widen and she gulps amidst a ghost of a smile wanting to form but unsure of itself. Amazing though she is, she is still very much aware that she is just one little girl in the dead center of the most powerful military empire of all time, Inisfree. Few have ever been planted as a mole so far away from all they know, completely cut off from any possible form of evacuation or other support.
“Hey,” I tell her, squeezing her gently in my arms and legs again, “I love you. I play rough, but that’s all it is; just play. I told you no harm will come to you here. It can’t. That’s just not something that can happen in this realm.” I kiss her forehead and squeeze her in a light hug once more, feeling her full, perky breasts press against my right pectoral muscle and its nearby ribs. “I mean what I say and I say what I mean, Alison. You are safe here, and I want you. –and I need you. You are loved.”
She thinks about this, both of us letting it settle in that the other knows our real name and, likely, our entire history –at least what was poorly recorded by the warping liars and lazy POGs of the Outlands. “Captain Alison “Lady Jaye” Hart-Burnett, I have the deepest, most profound respect and adoration for you and everything you did. I want you in my life, and I want you to sense and feel you can be completely open with me –including using my real name and discussing my record with me. At least…” I clarify, “when we’re alone together.”
She nods, kissing my chest. “I love you, too –Sergeant Austin “Auz” Bunton.” She indicates she studied me, her ‘mark’ (objective) at one point, well enough to recognize I had been denied a LOT of promotions and other incentives and awards I had more than earned –and earned many times over. I can sense she can’t help but ask next, “So… you’re not even remotely upset that I was sent here to spy on you.” I smile as she finally lets it out in the open where it belongs, and kiss her forehead before kindly looking into her eyes as my hands rest on her flesh where her ribs meet her curving waist, “You amaze me, Alison, and spying doesn’t really affect anything here –plus, I’ve spied before, too, and I know what a stress it is –even for the elites, such as you and me. No,” I reaffirm, “I don’t ‘even remotely’ care –other than, perhaps, to say that I was flattered to be targeted for study by the Joes, whom I watched shows of as a wee lad, and whom I once worked very hard in hopes of becoming selected for.” With that, she let out another breath that had been held tightly within her tense chest for those long moments it took us to iron out that final and very important detail. I felt it blow across my chest, and we hugged each other back snuggly together once again, just enjoying how we felt tangled up all mutually wanting like that. “Then you amaze me, too,” she added, “-even more than you did when I read your file and found you here.”
After warming up to me and letting her guard down, letting me in (literally in her, too!), and relaxing with me in the many luxurious spots across my city, she finally began to be more naturally playful and engaging in the sexiest of carefree and trusting ways. One night, for example, she walked up to me, and I could tell she was no longer attempting to smoothly develop me as an asset; she was just being lovingly attentive.
“Fuck me to sleep??” she flashes her winning smile, and I can’t help but show mine. Taking her upper arms in my firm hands, I move her to stand with her bare tits against my chest; her bare tummy sliding just above my groin. Her hands instinctively move to start jacking me off with their silken, sliding touches; she perfectly adjusts them to get me rock-hard in seconds and practically trembling and burning for penetration of her mouth and puss’.
Falling in love with all these world-class girls was the highlight of my long, (predominantly) merry life, and here I was again, enjoying just that with one of the greatest warfighters of our time. Alison was feeling it, too, I could tell (all Inisfreeans are supremely sensitive (keenly aware) of things, and hers was shining like the sun –plain for even a human to see). When the thought occurred to her to have a child with me, I couldn’t help but smile. It took some time to explain that unique matter with her; of seeking such a thing with an Inisfreean, but I finally did, and she was sharp as ever, and took it well.
“You will always be welcome here, Alison. Because you have opened up to me fully,” (in more ways than one!) “I extend all of my home here to you. Inisfree is for the emotionally and sexually mature, though, so it will never be open to anyone below puberty and physical maturity. That means if you decide to conceive, and I decide to allow my seed to grow in you, you will surely birth a perfect baby, and in perfect health yourself, but you will be bound to the Outlands –so long as you wish to remain with it, and I” (bound) “here to Inisfree –where my duties will keep me almost all of the time. I will visit you when you call out to me,” (pray; telepathy) “and I will love you both, and I will even spend time with you out there in those Outlands of yours, but you must understand that to let most Outlanders know of such a union and pregnancy and infant you will then have… invites nearly certain harassment, excommunication, banishment, and even torturous death, such as the witch burnings not long ago. Your child may not always be safe –even with the watchful eye of Inisfree, and our clandestine abilities to deter those would-be opposers.” She listened calmly as we lied there, snuggling closely as we always did now, and I wrapped my cautionary commentary up for her. “If you want to have a baby with me, Alison, I want you to, too. I want you to have what your essence calls you to desire, seek, and work toward. I uplift you and all you are. But I need you to understand and accept my role in this world; I am not a child-raiser, and I do not care to spend my time around those gestating, birthing, or raising youths. That’s just part of who and what and how I am, and doesn’t stem from anything bad. If you truly love me; all I am, as I am, with no strings attached, then I am truly blessed to be with you as man and woman.”
I was thinking about saying more, then realized I was probably starting to ramble redundantly like my father often used to. He always got carried away in his own spells (although he didn’t even realize they were such things). Alison had moved her smaller, tan hand to rest its fingertips on my lips, letting me know she understood and didn’t need to hear anymore. She slid her nearest leg over and around me, saddling up on my cock, and, having mounted me and seated herself securely, began to sway and grind with total focus and intent in her body and eyes. I reached up and cupped her cheek and jaw in one of my hands, and we maintained our deeply passionate, animalistic eyelock into each other’s eyes like that until we both came several times. I knew this was her way of saying she had chosen me to breed with, and I accepted this and her rarity as one of the few Outlanders I actually and truly loved. I allowed my sperm to be compatible with her egg, and when I sensed she had been impregnated, we finally collapsed, sweaty, slick, and glistening back into each other’s arms and legs.
“I know you can tell you have all the love in my heart,” I told her, “but remember that it is not our way to marry, pair up, or engage in the normal ways of the Outlands. I will come to you when you call me, my love; my lovely Alison and sister-in-arms, and I will cum in you when you call for me to do that, too, but I will always be what the Outlanders call ‘single’, and our child will, by definition, be a bastard; born out of wedlock.” I could feel her tears starting to pool up and release down her cheeks and onto my chest. I squeezed her in a long, tight, very love projecting hug, knowing what she was thinking and going through.
“I don’t care,” she started to sob, “I need you to be his father.” Every particle in her body had picked me, and there was nothing either of us could do about that. There was nothing either of us should have done about that. I showered her brow, cheeks, nose, eyelids, and lips with kisses, then spoke warm breath over her wet pout, “And his father I shall proudly be.” She shivered and clung even more to me, crying a great deal now, tears streaming down and all but soaking her face and my chest.
“I will come to you in your Outlands realm often, Alison. I can already tell.” I didn’t know if there was anything to be said about how quickly she was sure our child would be a boy. “You are that beautiful and arousing and loveable to me.” I felt her lips smile and her jaw muscles flex as she nuzzled her cheek more into my flesh, having heard me tell her this. “You are one of those rarest of all ladies,” I continued to squeeze, caress, and kiss her all around, slowly moving my lips from one sensitive acu-pressure spot to another, “whom I would not only make a new life with, but whom I would happily make many more…” Her whole body froze when I said that, barely believing it was hearing such words from one of a species and culture such as my own. Alison raised her tear-wetted cheek up off my chest to look into my eyes to see if I was serious. I returned her gaze to give her every confirmation she might need, letting her see how steady and sincere my ‘windows into the soul’ were. I knew then that she would be back for more. Strangely, somehow, I was not only fine with that… but looking forward to it.
The hours passed and at last it came time to address the most difficult matter; “We should probably get you back home now. It has been two months… and your command may very well think you dead in the frozen wastes that border this city.” Shortly thereafter, I was chivalrously escorting her out across the Welcoming Square to the gate of the city…
“Whatever you wish for our-“ I stopped myself from saying ‘child’, remembering that she had somehow sensed it would be a boy, “-son,” and I could tell in the way she looked up at me that she knew I had made that sentence correction for that reason, “Inisfree can 3D-print for you; a crib, clothing, a car when he turns of age…” She stood up on her tiptoes and pecked my cheek and then my lips in sweet, tender thanks. “All you need is ask.” My face was starting to microscopically tremble in certain places; the incredible emotions I seldom felt with her kind (the Outlanders) were really stimulating me –arguably even more so, at least in a different way, than they usually did when I lovingly interacted with my fellow Inisfreeans.
“You are his father, and I won’t lie to him about that, but I will live in accordance with the wise OPSEC you and I were both taught; I will only tell him more about you when he asks, and when the time is right.” She was trembling and crying again, too. That effort she kept making to walk away from me; up into the yawning cavern of that dark first chamber of exit, was quite heart-wrenching for us both, though our lifetimes of military training were clearly mitigating that.
She turned back to look at me, asking as I’d expected she would, “You will clone me, won’t you… and my personality.” I dipped my head once in a calm bow and nod; “Except for your desire to become pregnant or have children. It is our way.” She looked down at the ground between us, thinking about this and imagining what her clone variants might be like and do here in my city she was now leaving. Like all Inisfreeans, I could feel and see and otherwise sense and interpret her thoughts as easily as a human understands colors and temperature.
“Show them to me sometime, Auzdein,” she reverted back to the name she knew I preferred in this stage of my life. I stepped closer to her and rested my hand on her temple; the side of her head where the mediums between it and her brain were thinnest and simplest. My touch completed the H.A.N. circuit, and the city’s Grid Mind relayed via the I.N.N. and through my mind and body contact with her… a vision, clear as real-life/in-person, of several moments in time; perfect variants of what she looked like, fading into existence above their bioluminescent rose ivy entwined, smoothly vertically grooved, Greco-Roman, Corinthian-capped, cloning pedestals beneath Inisfree’s surface, high up on the slope of our central mountain. After she saw this full batch of 50 of her clone variants be mesmerizingly sung into existence in that womblike chamber, the next view was of them attending the high school shaped like a skyscraper-tall version of the Statue of Liberty; they sat nude in their classroom desk-chairs there, alternating between reading and looking up to their Inisfreean teachers and me at the front of the class, sometimes reaching out to hold hands with and caress each other –like well-acquainted cats passing each other in graceful silence. The final view transmitted to her was of them graduating; leaping off the crown-spikes of their high school to skydive down to its lushly landscaped base, and at this point she was sobbing again. She threw her arms around me and wailed out how overwhelmed she was at the beauty and impressiveness of it all. I hugged her more tightly than ever before, petting and caressing the back of her head and shoulders until I could restore her energy and stability with another long wave of firm kisses on her lips. “These are also our children, Alison,” I said warmly to her, realizing it for myself as I spoke it. “This is how Inisfreeans mate and have children. As you have chosen me,” (to have children with) “I have chosen you.”
“There’s so much love and art and perfection here-“ she choked on her own tears and the lump in her throat, “and I’m going to miss it all.” I knew she meant ‘miss it’ in both senses. I shook my head a bit, telling her I disagreed; “You can come here in an instant, Alison; you can teleport here the moment I sense you wish to; the moment I will it to be approved. You can visit as often as you like, and watch our daughters grow up here. They will love you –in every way, and I really cannot wait to see them make love to you.” I smiled to her, happy she had spent those 40 days on the tour really acclimating to our completely love-and-sex centric culture. “Nothing could be more beautiful,” I told her from my heart, and she gulped down her tears, nodding to me as her eyes closed, still needing a little bit more time to get used to that idea, though I could tell it pleased and amazed her already.
Turning again, now finally barely able to leave this heavenly place unlike anything the Outlands would likely ever have, she choked out one more sentence: “I’m so sorry I spied on you. I had no idea you were… this was… all this…” she couldn’t make her sentences form anymore, having become so positively overwhelmed by some things and sorrowfully overwhelmed by others. I took my place at her side, standing just on the lip of the opened drawbridge-like door of the innermost chamber of the Pearly Gate chambers sequence. All of Inisfree and its gentle breeze spread out behind us. My arm rested around the small of her back, my hand on her arousing waist flesh and curve. My head was turned to face hers, and our eyes remained locked on and into one another’s. “You have absolutely nothing to apologize for, my lovely lady and mother-to-be. It is how our stars aligned, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Just promise me you will come back to me sometime. And, until then, promise me you won’t ever worry for yourself or our coming son; Inisfree will be watching over you both. I will be.”
The faintest of caresses could then be felt all over her body and mine; the teleportation had begun. The massive, rectangular prism hangar of a room that was that first Pearly Gate chamber faded into darker and darker grays until it was fully replaced by the increasing clarity of our sensory perception (not just our eyesight) of the Outlands realm now around us. Inisfree had placed us standing just outside Alison’s home’s backdoor. We were now in the backyard of her private residence in the land some still called the United States. Her tears and the lump in her throat were under control now, but the stream trails down her cheeks were shining in the sunlight as she stood there, so much smaller in height and life-force before me. Both of my hands simultaneously tended to the free strands of her hair hanging along the sides of her perfect, tan cheeks. I continued to pepper her with parting kisses as my thumb-pads glided over her cheekbones and earlobes. She returned my kisses, finally opening her eyes again to see me one last time. I could tell she was still amazed even with how gracefully and arousingly my people teleported, but that certainly wasn’t the focus of the forefront of her mind anymore.
I told her what she was pleading in her mind for me to keep saying. “Alison Hart-Burnett, my words here and now as we stand in your home are more important and meaningful and lasting than any wedding vows could ever be. I give you my word that I will be here for you when you call, I will spend days and nights here with you if you wish me to,” she mouthed out ‘I DO! (wish you to)’ as she looked at my lips through her tear-blurred vision, “I will make sweet love to you here, and take you back to my house and home, Inisfree, to make sweet love to you there –as my Inisfreeans stand guard here over our child.” She blurted out a quick giggle of the word ‘babysitters’, making me suddenly smile and softly chuckle with her at that realization. “Babysitters,” I softly rumbled down to her. “And though Inisfree is not a being that will ever have a wife or queen within it, you are now one of my dear queens within my heart and spirit, and I will treat and ever uplift you as such.” I brought the backs of her hands to my lips, kissing them one at a time as my eyes remained fixed down into hers. “I love you, Alison Hart-Burnett, and that is the most powerful love in all of Creation; the love of the Inisfreean king.” She threw her arms around me and squeezed me so hard it would have nearly suffocated me, had I not now become an Inisfreean.
“You are my king!” her voice trembled, and she looked up to me as my arms settled all around her; her arms now under my own. I beamed an Inara smile down to her, albeit with far, far more love than that wonderful Companion ever showed. “Now go make our baby, my sweet, perfect love,” I told her, and her eyes lit up and her amazing smile returned full strength. “You both have my love.”
I knew it was high-time to go. I had much to do, and to stay any moment longer invited only more tears and endless hugging, kissing, and further fucking –all of which were good and great things, but all of which needed to be fasted from for a little while. Giving her one last, long, lingering, sweetest-of-all kisses on her lips, I slowly let myself fade back away; caressed back out of her realm’s existence, reappearing in that of my own…
I could still see in my mind’s eye, almost like a Heads-Up Display or an image overlay superimposed across my natural field of view, Alison standing there in her backyard; her hands still in midair at her waist’s level; she was still standing as if hugging me, as I had literally slipped right out from within her embrace. Realizing I was no longer there with her, her eyes blinked open, catching the rays of the day’s sunlight. Her lips shut and she gulped once again, wetting her sealed lips with her tongue; tasting off the last particles of our union there. Her hands found themselves, coming together in front of her groin, and then instinctively rested their palms upon the bottom of her flat belly. She knew in a few months it would be swelling, just as I’d foretold. Having been around Inisfree and its people, her senses were now sharpened –as was her intellect and other aspects.
The worry of the Outlands quickly settled back into her mind, and she mouthed out the words she was thinking: “What will I tell my command?” It was more of a whimper, and was completely directed at me. I knew it was part of how she was trying to reassure herself that I was real, and the last two months had really happened. I answered her in her mind, with my voice as clear as if I was standing beside her ear and speaking soothingly near it, “My love, you will know when you contact and later see them, and I will appear for you before them if they require it to affirm your credibility. I love you.”
Her arms crossed herself, hugging herself as another round of tears streamed down her cheeks; half in great gratitude for my instant and dutiful reply, and half in how much she was now missing me and my unbelievably strong aura; its love-energy and all. “Tend to your life for a little while now, my lovely girl. Try not to think of me until you've gotten caught back up with things where you are. I will always be just a thought away, after all, and even when I am a-slumber, your calls to me will most agreeably sound within my dreaming, stirring me so I can better answer. You will fare well, I promise you –even in the Outlands.”
I could see her nodding –to herself as much as to me, as she knew from her Inisfree tour lessons that I could remotely view her in that way. She now had some measure of self-control and individual purpose again. Looking down at her flat tummy one more time, she centered herself, cleared her mind, remembered all her outstanding special operations training, and strode up her porch to unlock her house’s back door.
I let my view of this scene fade away, turning to look out over the expanse of my own house, Inisfree, which was again before me. The conical central mountain rose up in the middle of my view as I stood there on the edge of the Pearly Gate chamber; its opened ramp down and connecting as a pathway onto the G.A.H.. Liberty High School, our much taller (and, of course, completely nude) Statue of Liberty version, rose up into the babyblue Inisfreean sky just off to its (the central mountain’s) left side, as I was facing it. “That’s where our children will grow,” (up) I smiled to myself, knowing Alison, too, somewhere out there in those Outlands of hers, would eventually be smiling about the same thing.
Alison, like all girls of the Outlands, would, on some level, be a bit upset that her beauty and other charms hadn’t been enough to make me change my Inisfreean ways. But, I certainly knew, she would be highly thrilled –over the moon, even- that they had been enough to make me bend on my Inisfreean guideline to never breed with, and in the way of, an Outlander. She had proven a goddess enough by Inisfreean standards to secure my seed –which required my blessing to activate! No small feat indeed, as many billions had fallen far short of that mark.
I smirked to myself as one of my Inisfreean girls flew into position on one of our Owls (hover-saddles) to give me a lift (I loved feeling them up whilst seated snuggly at their backsides; who wouldn’t?!); I wondered how long it would take Alison to realize that she was now forever-young (not merely immortal, which may experience bouts of aging back and forth), as well as invincible. ‘(Quite) some time,’ I half chuckled, as she would still appear human to herself and others; taking minor, superficial wounds, getting minor headaches from dealing with various pressures, such as those of fools, etc. In time, though, she would realize these things –and that our son would share those powers. Though not an Inisfreean by most measures, they had still been in the proximity of those beings, and that was always enough to spread our strength and healing like positive contagions. Some would not have that reaction, as it is not our Inisfreean will for all to enjoy such things so easily, but Alison surely had earned it.
Every now and then, as I had expected and hoped for, Alison would call out to me in prayer. Sometimes it was in desperation from tension or loneliness or doubt, but, over the months as her pregnancy came into bloom, it was more and more often out of serenity and polite request. Her passion for me still burned as brightly as ever in her, and, she would find, it always would (being part of her newfound eternal youth). I sensed and loved this about her, and we discussed all these things in full detail between lovemaking sessions.
My favorite times were when she ‘summoned’ me, for lack of a better term, to enjoy quickies with her while she was at work, slipping behind a stack of boxes or back into a closet for just a few minutes; just long enough for both of us to get off, and for her to slide her panties back up to keep in all our cum. When she went to the restroom –and when she clocked out and went to sit in her SUV for a moment- she would dive her hands down into those panties of hers, now soaked all the way through with all our cum which had seeped back out over the course of her working day, and collect as much of it as she could to then inhale the scent of deeply before sucking them all into her salivating mouth. The Inisfreean hunger had become part of her, too, as had the Inisfreean love of this hunger, and Alison knew she had to hide it from those Outlanders who would never be ready for such a thing.
Another of my favorite nights was when she prayed to me, summoning me to join her for a nice, long, warm, relaxing bath, and just leaned back against me and rested her hands over mine as they caressed and fondled and massaged her whole front and apex. We ‘spooned’ that night (Inisfreean limbs can’t go numb from such things), nude on clean, cool sheets, and she kept my boner tucked warmly inside her perfectly lubricated pussy until the predawn hours where we made aggressive love one more time before I had to fade back away to Inisfree. “Have a great day at work, my amazing, perfect, beautiful, sexy commando wife,” I had called her, and she knew what that meant and beamed at me as she felt me fade into thin air behind her, still lying curled up in our bed out there. Her fingers went down to retrieve our cum from her slit, and she kept them by her face to usher herself back to sleep for another hour –and keep herself there, with the most erotic and pleasing dreams of all.
Then there were my least favorite nights; when she summoned me to look over our newborn son, and I had to explain to her that I loved them both, but that it was not in an Inisfreean’s essence to wish to look upon beings until a certain developmental point. Even with her increased intellect and understanding due to her frequent exposure to the Inisfreean auras (energy fields), this was sometimes difficult for her to choke down. “Hate me if you must, Alison, but I only speak the truth. You still have my love. Please just remember that it is the love of an entirely different humanoid species.” I knew words wouldn’t be enough, so sometimes we just sat there in silence, half wishing the other wasn’t wired as they were, and half still loving that we had somehow been able to bridge the gap between our two species with love (and lovemaking).
This was our struggle for acceptance; not from society, as the interracial couples once had sought, but from and for the last facets of one another.