My Second Life
Chapter 7

Copyright© 2011 by Veritas

Science Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 7 - Another back to the stone ages story. Watch John Milton, formerly a tired old man, try to take advantage of a second chance at youth and vitality. Only he has to do it on a wild and violent pre-historic world. Future chapters will have violence and possibly off scene sexual violence and rape.

Caution: This Science Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fa/Fa   Consensual   BiSexual   Heterosexual   Science Fiction   Time Travel   First   Oral Sex   Petting   Slow   Violence  

Jena and I came across a little surprise around late afternoon.

Seeing as we had an ample morning meal, we hadn't considered it necessary to stop for lunch, so we had simply snacked on some of my megalo jerky and fresh fruit, washed down with cool, clear water as we walked upstream.

I admit that I was a bit distracted occasionally watching Jena as she walked by my side, admiring her rolling curves under her furs and her taut muscles playing under her smooth, tanned skin. I couldn't help but keep imagining what our wedding night and following honeymoon would be like. It had been quite a while since I'd been with a woman after all, and thanks to my new young and exceptionally healthy body, I was more than ready.

So, knowing that, it's completely understandable why she was the one who first spotted the danger ahead.

Jena froze abruptly and raised a restraining hand to my arm. Confused, I followed her intent gaze and found myself staring at something completely out of the ordinary off in the distance, nestled in the tree line.

Out of the ordinary, but still very familiar.

Around two to three dozen yards from the riverside, nestled in the midst of a stand of trees, was a large, box-like structure. It looked very similar to my own storage box back at my camp, minus the cammo netting covering it.

It could only be another human from Earth. From the maps Center had given me, I'd noticed that one had been dropped in the nearby area, but I hadn't really planned on crossing paths with him at this point in time. In fact, before I had left home, I had made sure to double check that this side of the river only lightly skirted the probable drop area.

Why shouldn't I be neighborly, you may ask? We're both originally from the same world, now facing the same challenges and dangers, it should make sense to meet and maybe even join forces.

Well, as I saw the situation, I had no idea what criteria the pan-dimensional beings used to choose their volunteers. Sure, he might be a damn friendly and helpful person, but for all I knew he was a first grade asshole, or maybe a paranoid recluse with serious trust issues, more than willing to shoot first and ask questions later. I had planned on delaying "first contact" until I had a better handle on my living and security situation. I also would have preferred the home-field advantage.

I took another step in order to get a closer look, but Jena's hand gripped my arm harder. Looking back at her, I was surprised to see her body tense, and deep fear etched all over her face.

"No." She whispered, not taking her eyes off what had to be a strange sight to her.

Before I could even start to assure her that there was nothing to be afraid of about the alien looking structure, some movement caught my attention. Staring back more carefully toward the unknown earthling's camp, I actually spotted several figures slowly moving about. And they certainly didn't look like men.

I pulled out my binoculars from my cart and slowly scanned the area. I really didn't expect to see a group of cave lions, simply lounging around the seemingly abandoned camp. There were five of them, big and lean, golden tan colored with a slightly darker striped pattern, very similar to that of a tiger. One had a slight tuff of fur around its neck, so I assumed it was the male of the pride.

They were all pretty damned impressive and intimidating.

"Holy shit!" I said out loud in English, awed and amazed.

An insistent tugging at my arm soon shook me out of my trance. Jena was there, fearfully urging me to back away and leave.

I was fully prepared to follow her; this wasn't a safe and secure outing at the city zoo after all. Even back on Earth, lions were deadly animals, but here on Midgard, these were most likely used to seeing men as just another type of quarry.

But then I remembered something which stopped me in my steps – my late-night encounter with the bear some weeks ago. Being that close to a wild animal, that was more than capable of killing me; being trapped and not able to do much about it ... it had scared the shit out of me, far more than I had even admitted to myself. And now maybe there was someone over there, trapped inside or maybe even outside his shelter, scared and at the mercy of those dangerous animals. Who knew if he was armed, or maybe injured? And here I was, just passing by with several weapons and a fair amount of ammo.

Plus, cave lions were extremely dangerous - the sooner I got rid of them, the safer my mate and I would be living in this area. Hell, killing them would probably help out Modon and his camp also, removing a deadly threat to his people and competition for food.

I knew that I could help and in that instant, I felt that I should. I just hoped that it wouldn't get me killed.

"Jena, do you remember how I killed Sodon?" I asked as I slid my rifle out from its scabbard on the side of my cart.

Of course she did – even if she hadn't been there at the time, I'm sure that she had heard the gunshot, and others had filled her in. The slightly worried and wide-eyed look she cast my holstered Glock just confirmed it.

"Powerful magic." She whispered.

"No. No magic." I said, shaking my head insistently.

I needed to nip this thing in the butt before it snowballed into a big problem – the last thing that I wanted was to be seen, or even feared, as some sort of being with supernatural powers or influence. Especially not by my own mate.

"My people's wise-men and craftsmen are very gifted. These are simply some tools which I have brought from my former home. I have neither the skill nor knowledge to make more though." I said, indicating not just my Glock, but also the rifle in my hands. "With this I can kill all of those lions safely from a great distance."

She was skeptical of that, to say the least.

"Trust me my mate." She smiled slightly then and gradually nodded in agreement, even if she was just reluctantly humoring me. "Good. Now stay here and be prepared for some very loud noises."

After giving her an encouraging kiss – which I admit, seriously distracted me from what I was about to do – I jogged off to kill a pride of wild cave lions.

All of my firearms, accessories and ammunition had been slightly modified by Center for top performance, efficiency and durability. A regular scoped Remington 700, using .308 Winchester cartridges, can have a maximum effective range of a little less than one-thousand yards. Center had guaranteed me that my rifle's maximum effective range was closer to one-thousand, three hundred. Of course, that didn't mean that I could actually hit anything at that range – a rifle is only as effective as the man who's wielding it after all. After a couple of weeks of practice, refamiliarizing me with distance shooting, I'd become proficient enough to consistently hit what I was aiming at, at a distance of around four hundred, to four hundred and fifty yards.

To be completely safe, I'd slowly approached to around five hundred yards of the pride. Setting up on a slight rise, I laid down prone, with the rifle's bipod extended. Luck was definitely with me – the lions were upwind of my position and examining them through the scope, I could see that they were all mostly asleep or simply lounging around, basking in the warm afternoon sun.

I did my best to calm myself, slow my breathing and steady my hands, before centering the closest lion in my scope. I steadily squeezed the trigger, aiming for its chest ... and hit nothing but dirt. Swallowing a curse, I calmly worked the rifle's bolt and tried again, this time aiming slightly higher. I was rewarded by the sight of a lion staggering under the blow and crumpling in a heap to the ground.

Despite keeping relatively calm and steady, it took me nine rounds to kill the five lions, forcing me to hurriedly reload the six round internal magazine. I missed only three times, but not all of my hits were outright kill shots. I'd got the job done, but not very well - the fear at the situation and the added distance certainly hadn't helped.

Ahh hell ... I'd get better in time and with practice.

Despite my nervousness, my mind filled with images of me getting mauled by a large rampaging feline, the lions clearly never even knew that I was there. They hadn't associated the noise of the rifle to their dying friends either. They simply looked around curiously, searching for the source of the strange and loud sounds and sniffed curiously around their dead or injured family.

I knew that the animals on this world would eventually learn to run away as quickly as possible at the sound of gunshots and even at the sight of humans. For now though, their ignorance could be a double edged sword. On one hand, as with the lions, animals would simply stand around and let themselves be killed. On the other, most of the predators on this world, as well as some of the larger prey, were not particularly afraid of men, and would attack without reservations.

I scanned the area through my rifle scope one final time, making sure there was no remaining sign of movement. There was none, so I got up, making sure to police my spent brass, and walked back to my nervously awaiting mate.

I would have laughed out loud at how she was hopping from one foot to the other, if it wasn't for the look of extreme anguish on her face. As soon as I was but a few yards away, she ran straight for me, jumping up just before impact and wrapping her arms and legs tightly around me. Her added weight and momentum sent me to the ground, landing hard on my ass, but I didn't mind. I just held on to her, stroking her back soothingly as she rained kisses all over my neck and face, babbling too rapidly for me to follow.

She eventually calmed down enough for me to make out what she was saying. "I was so worried that the lions would take you! But then the sounds were so loud ... greater than thunder! I was so scared for you!"

Wow. Through this tense and frightening ordeal, her major concern was for my safety. Did I luck out or what! To show my appreciation, I pulled her deeper into my arms and gave her a long passionate kiss, which had the added benefit of calming and quieting her down.

Unfortunately, we had to disengage ourselves eventually. We then slowly made our way to the camp, with me carrying my shotgun, and Jena pulling the cart a dozen paces behind me.

She was noticeably on edge until we reached the first dead cave lion and were able to clearly see that it was dead. And thank God that it was ... that thing was a big beast, at least four feet tall and eight feet long, not counting its tail. This was no idle zoo animal, that much was clear - all of its massive size was lean muscle with little to no fat.

Once it was plainly clear that there was no danger, Jena's nervousness was quickly replaced by surprise and curiosity.

The container was very similar to my own, but there were definitely enough differences to prove that it had been designed by someone else. The biggest ones that I could see were its basic shape – instead of a simple long box, it seemed to be laid out in a cross – and a series of what looked like crenellations on top of the container. With a removable access ladder, it would make a pretty decent lookout platform. It actually looked like a small fort.

Damn good idea ... I wish I'd thought of it.

I also spotted a few cameras at different corners, set up to watch the entire perimeter. Smarter than I had been – I had only brought two of them, and one was being kept as a backup in case the other broke down.

"Hello the camp!" I called out, keeping my shotgun at the ready and warily examining my surroundings. There was no answer.

I repeated the call as I approached, passing close to another dead lion, but with the same effect.

"John, what is this?" Jena asked me in a soft, low voice as she studied the unfamiliar object before her.

"It is ... a special kind of tent. I have one like it back at my camp."

"It must be very hard to carry when you travel," she said as she tentatively felt the cool and hard metal container.

"You don't. It is meant to stay in one place." I answered her, and then knocked on the container's double doors. Even after several moments, there was no answer.

"If you do not follow the herds and avoid the harsh winter, how can you feed yourself and survive?" She asked, obviously confused by the concept of a permanent residence.

"It is strong and warm enough to keep people safe from animals and the weather, all year round. Now wait here a moment and call out if something or someone shows up."

I left her speculating on how different it might be living in one place, while I circled around the container. She didn't bother responding; she was probably just too amazed at the sight of five dead lions and wondering what living in one place permanently might entail.

The perimeter seemed safe, with all the lions dead and accounted for and nothing else alive in sight. I did manage to find the container's owner though. On the ground, surrounded by a few large patches of blood-stained grass and soil, was a strewn out pile of bones, with bits and pieces of flesh, and shredded clothing – jeans and a flannel shirt, it looked like.

It looked like I was much too late to help anybody. Fuck.

I had no way to determine exactly how he (or she, there was no way to be sure) had died, or even when. All I knew was that he ended up as cat food. I guessed that he had been heading behind his container in order to water a tree when he had been surprised by the pride of lions. Though he clearly had more security cameras than me, I guess he didn't have any motion sensors, or else he would have known that there were animals prowling around before leaving his container.

Poor bastard.

I'm not ashamed to say that I turned away and threw up from the sight and the smell of the remains.

I'm kind of lucky that I did though. Bent over and heaving, with one hand extended, propping me up against the container, I spotted a bloody gun nestled in a patch of tall grass. Picking it up and wiping it down, I could see that it was a Colt 1911, with three .45 caliber rounds missing from its magazine. It was a beautiful gun – nickel plated with custom black grips with a golden sunburst on them.

"At least he went down fighting," I murmured to myself.

Steeling my resolve and calming my stomach, I examined the remains much more closely. I even went as far as to search what was left of his pockets. My determination was fortunately rewarded! I found a leather holster, which was way too chewed up to salvage, but there was an extra intact magazine in an attached pouch.

I stuffed the weapon into a back pocket and the full mag into another, and then I returned to the front of the container and my mate. To my immense surprise, I found Jena buck naked, starting to skin one of the dead lions. I paused to take her in, the blood and guts only slightly retracting from her beauty and sexiness.

Weird, I know, but it somehow worked for me.

She paused in her work as I approached and looked up at me with immense pride and a definite twinkle of lust in her eye.

"My mate, the great hunter." If the sight of her naked body hadn't made me erect, the look on her face and her sultry voice certainly would had.

"Anything for my beautiful mate." I said theatrically, with a bow.

She didn't answer, instead she simply smiled and went straight back to work. I then noticed that she was having a bit of trouble cutting into and skinning the lion. That made sense seeing as she was doing so with a set of sharpened stone cutting and scrapping tools.

'Stupid, inconsiderate... ' I silently berated myself.

"Wait Jena," I called out as I rushed over to my cart.

After a minute of rummaging and searching, I returned to her with my hands behind my back and a smile on my face. It only widened when I saw with the curious look on hers.

"A gift," I said as I handed her, her own knife and belt.

She just stared at it for a few moments in surprise. When she did respond, it was with a squeal of pure joy as she flung her arms tight around me. I didn't really care that she was staining my clothes with animal blood. Before I could respond, or even hug her back, she was gone, back to skinning the lion with her new and razor sharp steel knife. She seemed to be working much faster now, with a big smile on her face the entire time.

I love women who are easy to please. I can't wait to see how she'll react to all the other tools and toys I have.

Of course, I offered to help, but she assured me that she had things well in hand. After watching her for a while, I had to agree – thanks to her obvious experience and not inconsiderable strength, Jena was already on her way to finishing the first lion. In an hour, or two at most, we'd have a full set of beautiful lion skins, ready for tanning. Pretty damn impressive and much better than what I would have been able to do. I had no problem whatsoever in letting her take care of all our skinning needs from now on.

 
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