Fire and Ice

(Note from Darlantan: This is sort of a pilot for a sequel to Fire and Ice, so let me know if I should keep going on it. As for all the amazing feedback, thanks, guys, and please, the more the merrier, so I know you like what I'm doing! :-) Happy reading, and I hope it's as popular as the first.)

Fire and Ice 2: Equivalency

The table held twelve, but only the eight surviving were present. There was little light in the room, which suited the nature of the meeting, not to mention the characters of the men and women present. All were dressed in suits and business attire, save for the single man facing the seated eight.

He was dressed in a black knee length coat, emblazoned with arcane runes and twisting symbols. Although his features were calm, the room was thick with the tension of fear. Fear not coming from him, but because of him. This was Marrack, an expert of the occult, and supposed raiser of daemons and sprites. The Centre used him on occasion for consultations, and as a threat.

Marrack straightened his shoulders, and the others in the room shifted in turn. Marrack smiled at the obvious terror he instilled. One of the eight shifted forwards, and Marrack felt his loins stir. The woman was cold, and hard featured. An ice he would like to break. "Tell me, Marrack, what do you know of the Glacier operations status?"

Marrack eyed the woman before him for a moment, imagining her cries as he raped her. He imparted the visions to her mind and straigtened in his seat as she blushed and flinched back towards her seat. She wanted it, wanted it badly. Marrack had known few women that actively wished for rape, although many wished for a mild control. The chaotic lure of the violence of the act was something he exhulted in.

A stuffy scientist leant forwards and waved his hand vaguely in Marrack's direction. "Well, sorcerer? Speak!" Marrack's eyes locked onto the puny man with open hatred, and he stood up with a grunt.

"Eight only you are, little man, but my army is legion, and my reach is far. The Glacier situation is completely fucked. Fubar, if you wish. My pathetic sibling is gone, and his hatred for you grows, I am sure. I heard tell he beds the renegade, now. Strange, is it not? Fire and Ice, as it were. Sounds like some kind of faerie tale. What of it?"

The scientist eased back into his seat, his wrath vanished in the blink of an eye, as though it were never there. Marrack found he hated the little man already. Another leant forwards, and this one was female as well. Not as cold, but Oriental, not normally Marrack's taste. Although, seeing her almond eyes and clean, silk skin, the sorcerer found his cock growing harder still against his thigh.

"Marrack, this is what you know? Then let us tell you more of your brother. Mythril has become fully operational. His power is quite significant, and he has achieved something which none before him have thought to do. On assignment to recapture the Pyrogenetic, he found something of her abilities that perfectly counteracted his own." Marrack scoffed.

"This is nothing to me. My contact with my brother ceased when he became your prided ice daemon, and shook of my overtures of peace and power. You have yet to tell me something to arouse my interest." His eyes flitted between the two women on the board, who in turn exchanged a quick glance. He imparted more images to them, of intense pleasure and need. The two began to fidget in their seats, and the scientist on the end looked at them with a flustered expression, then turned back to Marrack.

"Whereas his mental state may become unbalanced without the adrenaline-enhanced trioxyfluoride, he has achieved a level of co-operative symbiosis with the renegade. They seem able to withstand each other's obvious differences and have garnered full and controlled releases of their abilities. They've left a trail of tightly controlled burns and cryostated rooms across the northern breadth of the country. They're headed this way."

The Asian woman was openly staring at the thick length pressing against his inner thigh, and the other one's glazed expression was all Marrack needed to see. He eyed the scientist dispassionately. "So? What do you want of me?"

Another of the men leant forwards, this one with only half a face, the other nothing but a scarred mess. Freezer burn, from the look. Marrack smiled as the man slammed his fist on the table. "Resolve the differences with your brother with finality. Mythril and Kendra have become more a liability and a danger than ever before. Their value is nothing compared to the risk. Kill them, and you will be paid most generously, with sacrifices or goats, or gold, whatever you wish."

Marrack stood. "Done. I shall leave tonight." There was a sudden stench of sulphur and ozone, and a small creature suddenly burst from the shadows behind the seated eight. It clawed through the air ungracefully, it's tiny jaw split into three parts spitting hatefully as it flew. It landed on Marrack's shoulder, and rubbed its cheek against his, lovingly. Marrack eyed the two women eyeing his lustily and raised an eyebrow.

The Oriental woman rose from her seat. "I believe a plan must be formulated, sorcerer. Although I detest it, perhaps Dr. Gillette and I should accompany you to discuss it?" The other woman rose, and the other six members of the board filed out wordlessly. The daemon sitting on Marrack's shoulder hissed at the two women, but Marrack patted its head reassuringly and smiled.

"Is there something I can do for you ladies?" The two women looked at one another uncertainly, and the ostentatiously names Lotus shook her long silky hair from side to side. Gillette knelt down in front of her counterpart, and pushed aside the sorcerer's robes gently, to caress him through his pants. Lotus began to unbutton her blouse, and the daemon's eyes locked onto the small blue tattoo of a dragon draped across her left breast.

The daemon hopped onto her shoulder, and began to suckle at her nipples, and Lotus stifled a scream. Marrack grunted as he felt Gillette ease his cock out of his pants. He was eight inches, and thick. Gillette tried to push his cock down her throat, but gagged about three quarters of the way down. She leant back to suck on the head, and her cheeks bent in as she sucked.

Lotus began to rub the deamon's crotch as the tiny creature continued to suckle at her nipples. The creature looked back down at her hand, and then at the hard nubbin in front of it. With a shriek of joy, the daemon bit hard, and blood began to flow. Lotus screamed, then collapsed as the daemon's venom pumped into her system.

Gillette took no notice, but instead concentrated on the head of the cock in front of her. Her tongue danced around the sensitive skin behind the head, and her teeth grazed the pulsating redness of his seam. Marrack watched as Lotus' expression turned blank, then orgasmic, and she lay still as the daemon moved down to her pants, ripping the expensive fabric with malice. Marrack waved his hand, and the daemon imploded with a shriek, returning to its own plane.

Lotus pouted and sat up, then her eyes locked onto Gillette's bobbing head. She moved forwards and began to push in towards Marrack's heavy cock, trying to get her lips to it. The two women fought over his cock, running their hands and mouths up and down his shaft to try to please him the most. Marrack sighed as his hips began to slide forwards towards the two girls' faces.

The sorcerer began to sneer at the pathetic mortals beneath him, fighting to pleasure him. Lotus turned and bent over, spreading her cheeks wide. "Fuck me, master, please…" Her whining moans turned to squeals as Gillette stood in front of her and thrust her hips towards the Asian woman's wide mouth. Marrack's sneer slid into an evil smile as he spread apart the little Oriental's arse cheeks with one thick hand.

The corporate sexpot looked back from driving her tongue into her associate in time to scream in pain as the sorcerer drove himself balls deep into her tight ass. Her eyes bulged and her mouth worked like a dying fish, but no sound came out.

Marrack began to move his length in and out of the pained woman, her features in a mass of pure pain as he violated her. Lotus bit her lip, and Marrack leant forwards, sliding his veiny cock deeper into the woman beneath him as he pushed her silken hair away from her face. He gestured to Gillette, who was running her fingers in and out of herself wantonly. "Please her while I rape you."

Lotus moaned as he began to rub her underneath his thrusting cock, and her knees grew weak. Her tongue came out as she began to suck at her associate's swollen lips, and every so often, she gave another squeal as Marrack thrust himself into her. He looked down and watched his cock push into her hole, and listened to her cries of pain. He grew thicker, and began to increase his speed.

Gillette quivered at the desk's rim, her legs going to jelly as she blasted Lotus in the face with a sudden climax. The Oriental woman shied away from it for a moment, then cried out when Marrack slapped her right ass cheek hard, hard enough to leave in imprint.

The sorcerer sped up his pace, driving himself faster and harder into Lotus' bowels, until she cried in the sheer pain. Gillette sunk to her knees in front of the impaled, weeping woman, and began to softly kiss at her face. Their tongues suddenly danced, and Marrack was blind with the lust pouring through his body.

His cock pulsed, and he began to cum, his pistoning cock made suddenly hypersensitive by the slickness of his own cream. He pulled out of Lotus, who collapsed with a sigh, his cock still streaming cum. Gillette lurched forwards to catch it on her body and face, and began to mouth his slick, shining head as though it were an ice cream.

The sorcerer gathered his energy for a moment, watching as the woman beneath him cleaned his cock head and shaft of semen. Her eyes narrowed in distaste at the juices, the combination of Lotus' ass and his semen apparently unpleasant. Marrack reached down and pushed her head away, and tucked himself back into his pants. He had preparations to make.

***

Kendra leant back against the motel window, staring out over the street. There was very little to see, in actual fact, merely an empty car lot and several motorbike gang members around the front entrance to the bar across the road. Other than that, there was nothing else to see. The town was small and unnamable, and could have been any one of a thousand of them scattered across the county. The only difference to tell was the colour of the skin of the barflies, and the names of the motels they stayed in.

The Pyrogenetic scoffed quietly. They had stayed in eight "Motel Paradise" rooms, all separate, all different, yet all the same, in their trek across the northeast. The figure in the bed gave a quiet sigh and sat up. Kendra turned to appraise her companion and a wicked smile came to her face as she noticed his skin, a patchwork of dark tanned flesh and glistening silver, all marked by her fingernails across his back. Her lover was a large man, a fighter. He stood at just over six feet and eight inches, with a military style hair cut. His eyes, her favourite feature, where a glacial blue.

His muscles could have been sculpted by God himself, so defined were they. His waist was thick, as was the rest of him, a fighting warrior, through and through. And the strangest lover she had ever had. Aside from the fact that his skin was the colour of the ring around her finger, he was another Generation 6.1.

Their parents had partaken in a Government funded program run by an enigmatic foundation known melodramatically as the Centre. Through genetic enhancement and experimentation, they had developed incredibly enhanced psychic abilities. Unfortunately, there was little that could be done for their psyche. Irrevocably drawn to insanity, unable to cope with their immense powers, the Generation 6 patients were written off as genetic failures and placed in state care.

Years later, it came to be that several had children in the real world, and that these children bore the same powers, if not stronger abilites, than their parents. Kendra's own father had been killed by smoke inhalation in trying to stop a fire he himself had created. A beam had fallen across him, pinning him to the floor as the fire raged around him.

Kendra, then a mere child of six, had been able to finally stop the fires, but by then it was too late. Her father had died. Dubbed a Gen 6.1 by the Centre, she and the others like her were classified as immediate retrieval priorities, and Kendra had been on the run ever since. She had eluded capture, through sheer luck, mainly, until two years ago, when Mythril had caught up with her.

The Yin to her Yang, Scott Graham was Cryogenetic, with the ability to freeze or create objects by freezing water molecules in the air through mental ability alone. He had spent the majority of his life in the confines of the Centre, and as such had never needed to learn to control his abilities, to contain himself. His core psyche was constantly permeating into the air, cooling the temperatures in an attempt to release some of the pressure that would build up inside him.

In an attempt to make his abilities far more utilizable, Scott was subjected to a process which transmuted his skin but allowed him to have a far greater focus for his cryo-telekinesis. With the codename of Mythril, ostensibly to reflect his value to the Centre, but in reality little more than a cruel joke, his was then subjected to a horrid addiction to a virulent addiction. To maintain the silver skin, and thus his focus, Scott had to regularly inject himself with a dose of adrenaline-enhanced trioxyfluoride.

Once his addiction was fully developed, the Centre released him to find the primary renegade, being Kendra. Sure that his addiction would be sufficient cause to bring him back, with the renegade in tow, the Centre's board of directors provided him with several weapons and sets of clothing. With enough money and clothing to support himself for a month at best, given that his monthly injections were never to be allowed off premises.

Scott had caught up with Kendra in Phoenix, and had captured her easily. Through the course of several hours, the two had met in a passionate embrace of icy fire, and had found one another in a totally different way. For the first time in her entire life, Kendra had found release, the final barrier and loss of control that allowed her to fully experience herself, and her lover.

Scott, who she then only knew as Mythril, had also fully experienced himself for the first time, and experienced the touch of a woman for the first time. His hands had been cool against her heated skin, as her touch had brought warmth to his inner coldness. Their released passion and powers had combined to move them both, and the two of them had never been more than a few metres apart since.

The tall Australian was rubbing his head gently, massaging his temples. His withdrawal pains from the addictive drug still persisted today, all of two years later. The first three weeks had been the worst, with Mythril in a delirious and insatiable state, his powers running virtually unchecked throughout wherever it was they were staying at the time.

A smile bent the corners of Kendra's mouth as she pictured all the faces of the motel attendants, frantically apologizing for the state of the rooms, and naturally calling the plumber or air conditioner as soon as they left. While Mythril had undergone all this, Kendra was barely from his side, and the two freaks found comfort in each others arms. Eventually Mythril pulled out of it, and realizing that he was more than simply comfortable with his lover, he told her his own story, of his days in the Centre.

Scott stood and stretched, then turned to regard her. Kendra's eyebrow rose at the pinkish caste to his flesh along his face and neck. His silver skin was slowly fading, even as his control over his powers grew. Within a few weeks, his entire body had begun to slowly leech the colour back into his system, although certain parts of him still held their argent hue, Scott was becoming human again. Her eyes drifted lower, and her smile widened.

Scott laughed and blushed, and Kendra's smile widened further than she could so easily draw embarrassment to the huge man in front of her. She pushed off of the window ledge and sidled close to him, pressing herself up against his rock hard body. He frowned as he draped his arms under her arms, and closed his eyes. Kendra pursed her lips, her own brow creasing. "Headaches again?"

Scott nodded and a ghost a smile played around the corner of his mouth. "And with only one cure, too." Kendra suddenly burst into a fit of giggles as Scott bit down onto her ear playfully, and his hands locked like vice onto her hips. His face burst into pure joy as she slapped at him ineffectually, and resigned herself to be accosted and said as much. Scott's joyous expression slowly changed to one of solemn reverence as he reached up to push away a few loose strands of hair away from her eyes.

"You know I love you, right Ken?" Kendra's smile also faded, and she bit her lip. Over the last few months, he'd told her several times, and she shied away each time. People she loved tended to die, or be disappeared. It was the way of things.

"I don't have that much luck with love. I'd rather just have us." Scott snorted and picked her up bodily, pressing a heated kiss to her lips. Kendra returned the kiss slowly at first, then with more and more passion. It never failed to amaze either of them how much their ardour would persist, with either one reaching for the other at several times during the night.

Scott's caressing fingertips still felt like a touch of wonder and discovery, whereas Kendra's passion was as heated as her own flames. Kendra's hands wormed into the waistband of Scott's constricting boxer shorts, the dull grey cotton a stark contrast to the bright white of Kendra's mocha skin. Scott grunted as her fingertips closed around him, and she slowly drew him out of his underwear.

She pushed them in the vague direction of the bed, not really caring if they made it there anyway. Scott's mouth quirked into a smile as she began to massage his thickness, even as they reached the edge of the bed. Kendra pretended to frown at him, then her eyes took on a wicked glint. Her hand moved to the tip of his cock, her palm surrounding the throbbing head. Then her fingers closed in, and she squeezed.

Scott's eyes bulged, and he thrust upwards into her grip. Her hand didn't move, but her grip lessened, and she moved the heel of her hand, rubbing the silk skin of her palm against the seam of his cock. The room began to slowly chill as Scott's control lessened, then grow damp as Kendra's fire melted his ice. Scott curled his hand and a long shaft of pure ice grew from his palm, and he thrust it towards Kendra's pubic hair.

Her dark eyes widened as its icy shaft pressed against her fiery clit, and she gave a shriek as a huge electric shock streamed from her loins, right through her body. Scott moved the ice forwards and slid it inside her, and her mouth worked soundlessly. She froze, unable to move as he began to slide the ice inside her slowly at first, then faster and faster. Small beads of ice grew around her nipples, and Kendra found her voice in a high pitched moan of pure sensation.

Scott moved behind her, and began to rub the seam of his cock along the crease of her ass, and Kendra's head dropped to rest her chin on her chest as she let him totally rule her. The Cryogenetic's fingers were small points of sensation, her heat broken by his fingertips of ice. His cock was as the ice as well, only better. Kendra sighed as be began to push his cock inside her.