"Can you imagine it?" Shira was crying with laughter. "One poor butch."

"On that whole big planet," Nelax shrieked. "All the Sisters."

Laugh, laugh, laugh. "And one butch. What a thought!"

I sort of laughed with them. But I didn't really get the joke.

Sounded like heaven to me.

"Darling..." Shira smiled at me and patted my hand. She might as well have patted my head. She looked at the others. "It's just how they said it would be. They completely overestimate themselves."

Who were the they who said this? I thought they had a d.a.m.n cheek.

"The Crones, darling butch," Shira told me.

"Joe." Carmilla reminded her I had a name.

"Darling Joe." Shira corrected herself. "The Crones sent us, they said we'd find hutches here."

"And we need you to help us," Carmilla explained.

"Well, I'll do what I can." I was thinking there was a limit to what I could do. I could round up a few, I suppose. I started going through all the butches I knew. What about the ones who didn't identify as butch but obviously were? Did they count? I looked a little doubtful. Well, I could advertise on the Internet, I supposed.

"And maybe some of you will come back with us," Robaki suggested.

"To Femedom?'' I managed to say without smirking. But the image got into my head anyway. "Sounds like home to me, baby!" came out of my mouth before I could stop it.

There was a polite silence. I carried on regardless. "I suppose you need some butches"-I was going with the thought-''to sort things out."

They looked at me. I couldn't imagine a planet completely of femmes. Their houses must be falling down, man. Crying out for DIY.

And cars, boats, planes, all waiting for some butch mechanic. I pictured femmes in huge traffic jams waiting for someone to open the car door for them.

I felt a wall of annoyance building up around me, and came out of my reverie. The femmes were stony faced.

"Ladies, I didn't mean any offense. It's just on my world these are usually butch things." I turned to Nelax. ''Of course, not always. There are plenty of femmes who do these things, after all we had a huge women's movement once, and that kind of changed things." I could see I was losing them again, but they seemed more relaxed. Carmilla was smiling at me anyway. "After all, what did you think butches do? You didn't just think we were good at s.e.x, did you?"

From their embarra.s.sed smiles I realized they did.

"Tell me, aren't there femmes on your world who like each other, you know, femme on femme? It's quite popular here." I thought about that. "Well, at least it is in the personal ads."

"She means Sisters doing it to ourselves," Shira explained, her telepathy obviously giving her the edge on intergalactic translation.

"Of course!" they chorused.

"It's the norm on our world." Shira revealed.

"Really?" I said, a little disappointed.

"Oh yes." Nelax was obviously amused at my reaction. "We, the ones who want to meet a butch, are thought to be quite peculiar by some of the Sisters. A little queer, in fact."

Well that was a turn-up for the books. "Have you never had any butches?" I couldn't imagine a world without us.

"The Crones' legends tell of a group of butches who existed long, long ago, but they disappeared." Robaki told me. "Some legends say they disappeared up the Great Femme v.u.l.v.a."

''That's a possibility," I admitted.

"The other theory is they came to Earth." Carmilla said.

"Really?" I said.

"Yes. There's another planet near us, CloneZone, and they have a similar legend about their Drag Queens. They say a group of them disappeared to Earth about the same time," Carmilla explained.

My mind boggled. Butches and Drag Queens were really aliens.

Well, that put a different slant on the gay gene theory.

"Joe, you look a little worn out. Perhaps you want to go back down to Earth?" PW suggested.

Earth. My life. What time was it, anyway? Was I late for work?

I got up and Carmilla rode with me to the entrance doors.

"I hope you've enjoyed your visit," she said playfully as we pa.s.sed along the corridors.

"I would have liked more time with you," I told her, shyly.

She smiled. A lot. "We'll be in touch," she promised.

In the big foyer, I kissed her, hoping I'd get the chance to do it again. Then I felt a pull to be gone. The doors opened, cool air rushed in and I was spinning through misty light until the ground rushed toward me.

I shook my head, blinking like I'd just woken up. As my head cleared I heard birdsong. The sky was streaked with pink; dawn was coming up. London was before me: sleepy, vibrant, alive. A few hours ago I'd been just an ordinary Joe standing on a hillside. Now I was a butch with a mission. I turned and strode purposefully back to my car.

TOY WITH ME.

VK POWELL.

ight air swept under my silk skirt and cooled the hot center at the apex of my thighs. The swirling fabric tormented flesh N too sensitive for a thong. As I walked toward the bar, the fall breeze licked my body, leaving chill b.u.mps that I prayed would chase away the heat.

Another case solved in another lonely town where I didn't know a soul. Sometimes being the top private investigator in the state was more of a burden than a blessing. Thank G.o.d for the Gay and Lesbian Hotline, my lifeline to civilization, sanity, and physical sustenance.

"Looking for anything special?" the blond attendant asked, shifting her eyes over my erect nipples and returning the change from a five-dollar admission.

"Just came to dance," I replied, meeting her inquisitive gaze. But the words tasted bitter in my mouth. I could probably come from dancing at this point. It seemed like years since another human being had touched my body with the sole purpose of providing mind-numbing s.e.x.

''That's too bad."

I decided not to launch into just how bad. She probably couldn't care less that my life was a series of domestic a.s.signments in which observations of people having s.e.x far outweighed any opportunities to actually have it. Tonight, my body took offense and insisted on more active partic.i.p.ation.

Alternating dark and brilliantly white light temporarily blinded me as I stood by the entrance and allowed my vision to adjust. Music bellowed from huge speakers mounted above the doorway and pulsed my insides with rhythm. I enjoyed the animalistic urges created by the deep, insistent pounding. My b.r.e.a.s.t.s grazed against someone's arm at the crowded bar and I purposely lingered before squeezing into a spot.

"Help you, honey?'" the redheaded bartender yelled as she placed a c.o.c.ktail napkin in front of me.

"Vodka tonic with a twist, please."

I watched couples on the small dance floor cling and gyrate against each other in increasingly provocative stages of vertical lovemaking.

Their b.r.e.a.s.t.s lightly grazed each other, then blended together. Their hips swung from side to side and ground against one another in time with the feverish music. My pulse quickened and I took a gulp of the c.o.c.ktail, hoping the alcohol would calm my quivering insides. Instead it gathered at that burning place between my legs.

My job required a certain amount of voyeurism and it never affected me-that was work. But tonight, seeing women's bodies in such intimate contact filled me with yearning. I wondered how many of them were with their partners and how many were here for the same reason I was-a hard f.u.c.k from an equally hard-up stranger.

Flashing light from the dance floor played an appearing/ disappearing act on a dark-haired butch draped over the opposite end of the bar. Her full lips parted slightly and eyes sparkled as she surveyed each new arrival. We locked stares, and a sharp intake of breath caught in my throat. My mouth dried as all moisture rushed to my engorged privates. I recited opposites in time to the pulsing black light-night and day, black and white, good and bad, you and me. Retrieving my drink, I shuffled weak-kneed to the nearest stool.

I reviewed all the times anonymous s.e.x had proven dangerous, superficial, and ultimately unsatisfying. But in spite of any good or pure intentions, my offending eyes wandered back to the butch. Raw pa.s.sion twisted its way through my body as I looked at what I wanted but knew I would never be bold enough to ask for.

Her dark, close-cropped hair spiked about an inch on top. Her stocky frame appeared to be solid muscle under black jeans and a starched cotton shirt. I detected the bulges and curves of a real woman's body-full and vibrant. She carried herself with an air of total control and reckless abandon as she strolled across the floor. There was something taboo in her gait, almost haunting in its challenge. With each step she took, my c.l.i.t jerked painfully as if her legs were rubbing against it.

As I returned to awareness, the stranger walked across the floor toward my table. When she strolled past, relief mingled with a sharp stab of disappointment. Momentarily, relief faded and panic seized my body as two hands rested lightly on my shoulders from behind.

"Don't look up." A firm command. Hot breath touched my ear and shot waves of current down my spine. "Just listen."

How could she possibly know that more than anything, I wanted to be relieved of all responsibility? How could she know that the mere thought of relinquishing control melted my insides faster than physical touch? She couldn't know any of that, yet here she was.

Her fingers kneaded the tense flesh of my shoulders. I would've done anything she said.

"Imagine my hands all over your body, stroking your b.r.e.a.s.t.s, teasing your nipples into erection. I'm going to slide my fingers up the inside of your thighs into the wetness I can smell there already. Nod if you want me to continue."

The only part of my body that moved was my head. I nodded eagerly. Common sense screamed for me to run, but my legs refused.

A soft chuckle sounded from the woman behind me as she pressed her body against my back. Her pelvis found my spine and came to rest in a position of maximum contact.

"I knew you wanted it the second our eyes met." She whispered, "I'm going to make you beg for things you never knew you wanted."

This was not my first stranger s.e.x, but it was the first time I'd given myself over completely, without question. I'd often m.a.s.t.u.r.b.a.t.ed to such a scenario without a prayer that it would ever come true. My body responded to this woman in a way that could only be described as immediate and frightening. The power she wielded magnified the forbidden side of my fantasies and held me paralyzed in their clutches.

She knew this from one look. My nipples hardened and pushed against the fabric of my blouse as cold chills consumed me.

She cupped my elbows in her hands and guided me from the stool toward the front door. Nerve endings long dormant flared to life as the abduction played out. She walked a step behind and directed me to a van parked at the darkest end of the lot. The back door of the vehicle swung open as we approached and she pointed.

"Sit here, facing the front of the van." A small mattress on the floor was the only thing visible in the darkness. A heavy material covered the inside walls of the van, creating a barrier against prying eyes. I touched it as I climbed inside-neoprene, soft and slick.

"It helps m.u.f.fle the screams," she offered.

She positioned herself at my back with her legs around mine.

"Tonight you're mine. Do nothing except what you're told."

The authority in her voice left no room for question. Not that I would've-I wanted to give in, to be taken by someone with no expectations or standing to judge. I responded as she commanded.

My crotch throbbed and dripped from wanting her, more from antic.i.p.ation than anything she'd done. I wanted her mouth all over me and her fingers inside me, and I wanted it now!

Sensing my eagerness, she undressed me with slow deliberation.

The tight blouse seemed fiery against my overly sensitive skin. It bound and restricted circulation in a body that screamed to be free. When she released the bondage, my nipples stood erect and ready for her.

She lightly blew her hot breath on my b.r.e.a.s.t.s, refusing to allow the instant gratification of touch. I writhed against the fabric of my skirt to ease the pressure building in my middle. My hand automatically reached for the fiery mound of flesh.

She grabbed my hand and repeated, "Do nothing except what you're told. You wouldn't deny me the pleasure of the first touch, would you? I won't make you wait much longer."

My desire to give in to her wishes intensified because I couldn't touch her.

With one hand she unb.u.t.toned my skirt and tossed it aside. When my naked skin contacted the mattress I realized the sheets were satin- cool, sensual satin. A light musky fragrance from the sheets mingled with the scent of my s.e.x, releasing the urge to devour this woman. I clawed my fingernails into the material to contain my craving.

She reached for my clenched fists and released their grip, kissing each of my fingers as she uncurled it. With the speed that foretold l.u.s.t, she undressed herself and straddled my b.u.t.tocks. I squirmed feverishly against the silky covers, desperate for contact. She brought my hands back, placed them firmly on her strong thighs, and urged me to hold on tightly.

I knew if she didn't touch me soon that I would come where I sat.

Finally the delicate softness of skin against skin rippled my body with waves of pleasure. She gyrated back and forth on my b.u.t.tocks- first slowly, then faster-until the warmth of her juices trickled down my backside and between the trembling cheeks of my a.s.s.

This was the only indication that my captor experienced any sensation at all. I wanted to gloat, to challenge her to f.u.c.k me without feeling anything. Just as I started to speak, her hand slid between us. She stroked herself and transferred the ample lubrication across my b.u.t.t.

Shifting to a kneeling position, she guided me to all fours in front of her and slid her hand between my legs. When she grabbed a fistful of bush and lips and squeezed, my surprised yell was suffocated by moans of joy. She pulled and ma.s.saged the sore lips, capturing my pulsing c.l.i.toris between them.

"Tell me you love this," she commanded and gave another yank. I tried to speak, but my mouth opened and closed in soundless, spasmodic gapes.

She finally plunged a finger inside my soaking c.u.n.t. Her roughened fingers stroked in and out of my receptive body. I pumped backward against her hand to increase the tempo, but she wrapped her other arm around my waist and controlled the pace.

She slowly inserted another finger into my eager orifice and dug deep inside me. I bucked and b.u.mped to meet her thrusts. She pumped harder and the tension inside my body neared explosion. Just as I felt myself preparing to let go, she withdrew, leaving me a frustrated heap of raw emotion.

"Please," I begged, "I want more, please don't stop!"

"Would it be all right if I use my toy on you?" she asked sheepishly.

"Anything, just don't leave me like this!" I pleaded again.

"You have to promise you won't look until I say it's okay.

Promise."

Further speech was interrupted by the rustling of a paper bag. I was tempted to satisfy my curiosity by stealing a quick peek but was instructed to roll over on my back.

"You can look now."

My throat tightened as I opened my eyes. "Don't be afraid. It won't hurt-much."

Two narrow strips of leather around her hips secured a wide piece of black leather between her legs. A large, flesh-colored d.i.l.d.o jutted from a hole in the front panel directly over her pubic mound. She knelt before me, legs parted, beckoning me to touch it. I'd never seen a woman wearing a strap-on so proudly.

I tentatively extended a hand to examine it. The soft, pliable texture was a contrast to the hard rubber rod I expected. It closely resembled a real p.e.n.i.s in appearance and touch. Seeing it extended from a body so obviously female was a major turn-on.