What if Mr. Darcy was a warlord?
Once upon a time, in the deep southern world, there was a kingdom called Austenland. War was raging, and men were scarce there.
After all of the servants had been recruited, the militia was asked to search every house for men, young or old, gentlemen or not, to serve the country. It was rumoured that the army would descend upon Meryton the next day, by dawn.
Mrs. Bennet heard the news and went into hysterics.
“Mr. Bennet! Mr. Bennet! What can we do? We have no son but five daughters. What if the red coats take you away? You might be killed, as you are old and weak. Then we will certainly be thrown out of Longbourn by that hateful Mr. Collins. Oh, my nerves!”
“Ah, but my dear, Mr. Collins will have been taken away by the militia already, being the last man in Rosings and Hunsford,” Mr. Bennet replied calmly.
“In times of great turmoil, we should all join our hands and strive for the greater glory of Austenland. Papa, I urge you to volunteer your service,” Mary declared.
“Papa, perhaps you can talk some sense into the enemy when you meet them. Surely there is no need for fighting. and not every one can be that bad,” Jane murmured.
Coughing, Kitty added timidly, “I would not mind meeting some red coats.”
“La, I love red coats!” Lydia, the youngest daughter, jumped into the conversation. “I would love being handled by a camp full of soldiers.”
“Lizzy, you are very quiet. What silly idea do you have, in addition to those of your sisters?” Mr. Bennet asked.
“I think all of them seem to make sense.” Elizabeth said.
“What? Are you out of your mind?” Mr. Bennet could not believe that his clever, favourite child could entertain such an idea.
“I say that we should hide you when the militia comes, and that I shall disguise myself as a man and go in your place,” she announced with a determined glint in her eye.
“I thought of the idea first,” Lydia exclaimed. “Let me go!”
“No, Lydia. Let Lizzy go.” Mrs. Bennet took a protesting Lydia to one side, for Lydia was her favourite, and she did not want her to be sacrificed for her elderly father. She whispered to her, “Did you not hear that the enemy tortures and kills the members of our army? Your Aunt Philips said that the River Thames has turned pink from the blood of our men, and that Hoyden Park was covered with the remains of red coats.”
“But she does not live near the River Thames or Hoyden Park. How can she be certain?” Lydia argued. “I want to be in a camp full of soldiers!”
“I shall make you some red coats with old muslin and ribbon,” Mrs. Bennet said. “I am sure that, in no time, the war will end and men will return to court you. You are the tallest and have the liveliest disposition.”
The compliments seemed to do the trick, soothing Lydia’s ego. With a pout, she agreed and walked away.
When the sun rose the next day, several officers came to Longbourn. Before they could search the house, Elizabeth, dressed in gentleman’s clothes, volunteered to go with them. The officers were happy to be met with such co-operation, and they did not bother to search for other men at Longbourn.
Elizabeth thought she would be assigned to do some manual job befitting a fit young “man” from the countryside. Instead, she was given several tests, upon arriving at the camp near Londonland, and was ranked as a Colonel and sent to work as General Darcy’s assistant.
Before she entered the great man’s office, she heard a deep voice saying, “This Bennet scored well in the test. But are you sure he is not a fake? I cannot believe that a savage neighbourhood like Meryton can produce a person with such fine qualities and intelligence.”
Elizabeth saw red. She had no interest in serving this arrogant man. She decided that she would taunt him whenever she could, hoping for a transfer soon.
When she entered the room, she was shocked by the sight. General Darcy was alone, except for a tiny grey kangaroo with a smiling face. Who had he been talking to?
Most militia wore a red coat, buttoned up from head to toe, like she herself. But General Darcy wore something altogether different. Indeed, he did not wear anything at all except a short leather kilt and a pair of long leather boots. He was exceptionally tall, perhaps six foot five. His shoulders were broad and his chest muscles looked hard.
Elizabeth had a great urge to put her pale hands against his browned chest, just to see the contrast.
“Welcome, Bennet.” A friendly sound woke her from her revel. The kangaroo had spoken!
“Bingley at your service.” He bounced towards her and extended his paw. “I am General Darcy’s advisor.”
Darcy snorted. “He is my sister’s pet. Now stop staring at my body and sit down. I want to test you myself.”
When he turned to walk to his desk, Elizabeth’s gaze followed the swaying of the leather kilt, and the sight of his hairy legs. She gulped for air and followed him immediately. All thought of demanding a transfer seemed to have drained out of her head.
Darcy opened the cabinet behind him and took out a bottle of red wine. He poured one glass for Elizabeth and one for himself.
“Drink up!” he commanded.
Elizabeth held his gaze and drank it.
He gulped down his wine and scowled at her. “Too slow.” He poured another glass for each of them.
She did as she was told and swallowed the second glass more quickly. Not a word was spoken between them; the only communication was their hot stares, as four bottles were consumed.
“See? I told you Bennet was good.” Bingley laughed. “I will leave you two.” He bounced out of the room and closed the door.
“You are …not bad,” Darcy said as he stood up unsteadily to clap Elizabeth on the shoulder. The move overbalanced them both, and they ended up crashing down onto the floor, with her pinned under him. Both immediately fell into a drunken sleep.
In the morning, Darcy began by testing her skill at throwing darts. From there, the tests went on for several days. But Darcy woke up each morning with the strange feeling that he had been caressed and fondled in his dreams. He also seemed to remember breathing in the most alluring lavender scent during the whole night. Every morning, he found his body throbbing with…needs. But Bennet was a man, so Darcy was puzzled to realize that he had repeatedly experienced dreams of being with a woman.
He decided to get to the bottom of the matter; today he would not conduct the test himself. He asked Bingley to drink, toast for toast, with Bennet, and he observed them both while standing aside. He could see that the young soldier seemed very nervous, his gaze darting to Darcy from time to time.
Bennet was drunk by the sixth bottle. Darcy shooed Bingley out of his office, picked Bennet up and walked through the door to his sleeping quarters. When he placed him on the bed, Bennet suddenly spoke in a woman voice.
“Arrogant pig, I hate you,” the sleepy soldier murmured. “But you have the most virile body. Your chest hair tastes delicious, and I love to twirl my finger around your cute navel…”
Darcy’s eyes widened. A woman in disguise? So that was what had been happening every morning before he awoke. He could not believe that the recruitment officers had failed to discover her true identity before sending her to his office.
Telling himself that it was his duty to verify the truth, he unbuttoned Bennet’s uniform jacket.
Ah, such creamy alabaster skin! But her bosom was bound flat. What a pity!
His arousal came on, full force. He was tempted to strip her bare and bury himself deep inside her. But General Darcy did not force himself on any woman, particularly not on one who was largely unconscious. Nevertheless, he could not bring himself to simply walk away.
Rising, he locked the door, then stripped off his clothes and stretched out beside her.
The sun shone inside the bedchamber, and Elizabeth woke to the musky smell of the General. She smiled, remembering her daring actions the past few mornings, when Darcy had yet to awaken. She had kissed nearly every inch of his body, except those forbidden parts hidden beneath his leather kilt. After all, she was a maiden. The man did not have a clue about her fondling him…
She blinked her eyes, remembering the heavy drinking of the previous night. And when she tried to raise her body, she noticed that she was pinned down by a strong body.
She opened her eyes more widely, and saw General Darcy’s bright smile. His angular body was heavy on top of her. She drew in a deep breath, and was alarmed to realize that she was nude, as was he.
“What are you doing?” she said. She could not help but start to pant.
“I am doing whatever you have done to me, the past few mornings, before I woke up.” He lowered his head to nip her earlobe. His wet tongue traced the inside of her ear, and then the back of it, sending shivers down her body.
She wrapped her hands around his back and ran her fingers along his spine. He trembled in sharp reaction and bit her neck, while his hands kneaded her gorgeous breasts with a force that had built within him as he had eyed the alluring twin peaks over the past half hour.
When he plucked her nipples hard, she moaned loudly against his ear. He found that he loved her uncontrollable sexy voice. Lowering himself, he suckled the creamy mounds, using his tongue to flick and tease the sensitive nipples. Such a sweet taste!
She tore at his hair. Her body felt as if it were on fire, and her blood was rioting as it flowed down to her apex. When he wanted to move lower to worship her sex, she was eager for him. She parted her legs more widely and rubbed her legs against his hard shaft with frantic enthusiasm.
He let out a groan and gave in, pulling one of her knees to his waist. When he positioned himself and thrust into her decisively, she was tight. Very tight. He had never felt such intense pleasure before, from the friction and heat of her wet core.
Pushing deeper and deeper, he broke through her virginal barrier and joined with her, as one body. She gasped from the sharp pain, but soon her aroused breathing urged him on. When she wrapped both her legs around his waist, he started the maddening dance, drawing in and out. He savoured her sweet scent, her smooth, tight muscles and her rhythmic cries. As he thrust and pounded, his head was spinning with pleasure, and they both reached ecstasy at the same moment.
When they had caught their breath, he apologised for his initial remark. In turn, she told him her story, explaining the desire to save her elderly father that had prompted her to volunteer in his place.
Darcy laughed out loud when he heard about the rumours of the war.
“But, my love, the River Thames was pink because my bloody cousin, Richard The Blue Wizard, who is warring against me, overturned a ship which contained his pink virility potion.”
“And the remains of the red coats in Hoyden Park?” Elizabeth asked.
“Richard hated me for besting him over a game of darts and in drinking. In a fit of pique, he tore up any uniforms of our army that he could find, and then directed his man to trample on them in Hoyden Park.”
“But where have all the men in the kingdom gone?” she asked, not understanding.
“All are here in Londonland, drinking and learning how to throw darts. They compete with Blue Witch’s men every day and night. I only play him once a year. So far, I’ve won for the past two years.”
“Men and their vices!” Elizabeth exclaimed.
“Well, the darts and the drinking war will come to an end soon. Richard the Blue Wizard and I have agreed on a best-of-three-over-five-games rule. I only need to win over him this year and then all of the men can return to their homes. You have such a pair of fine eyes, I am sure you can teach my men better dartthrowing skills. And you can certainly drink most men under the table. I am confident that we can win over the Blue.”
True to his words, General Darcy and Colonel Bennet triumphed over the Blue Wizard, in the end. All of the men were discharged and sent back to their homes. When Elizabeth returned home to her family, she arrived with her husband General Darcy and her baby boy. They stayed for a few days and then went back to Pemberley, Darcy’s estate, where they lived happily ever after.
Lydia blamed her mother for forbidding her to go into the army. She was jealous of her sister’s good fortune, as Lydia now preferred a bare chest and leather kilt to a red coat.
What if action of Pride and Prejudice had played out not in England but in Egypt?
1435BC, Merytum, Lower Egypt
Da, I will not forgive you this time, Elibeth swore as the boat left Merytum and sailed downstream. She was once again been married off to an upper-class husband without her consent, this time to a provincial leader no less.
Brokered into marriage by her money-tight parents at the age of fourteen, and again at eighteen, her two previous marriages had been carried out only by proxy. Her first husband died in a shipping accident, and the second died in a military expansion, before either of them could actually meet their bride. After that, she had thought that she was safely done with having to live with strange families for months on end; she had been certain that she would spend the rest of her life contently at home.
But she was not that fortunate. Her mother was in want of money again, and had apparently set her husband to marry Elibeth off again. Therefore, at the age of twenty-one, she was once again on a journey to the home of a strange family, the Darcymose.
Darcymose was the provincial leader at Pemberlium, one of the richest administrative regions of the Egyptian Kingdom. His family had governed the lush region for hundreds of years and reported to the vizier, the Pharaoh’s second in command.
Normally, the great provincial leader would not have considered Elibeth, a poor engineer’s daughter, to be suitable. But her last two marriages to men of great importance had elevated her status.
Still, she did not understand why he chose her. She had heard that many of the wealthy families in the kingdom had been attempting to marry their daughters into the Darcymose’s family since the provincial leader turned fifteen. He was rumoured to be quite tall and handsome. But he had never married…until now. Her mother told her that he was on business in Upper Egypt, that explained why he wanted them to be married by proxy.
Elibeth would have lashed out at her father if he had been brave enough to face her. But no, she had only learned of the wedding from her mother half an hour before the ceremony, and she had then been shipped off immediately.
She thought back on the ceremony with anger. What an irony that she had been married in the Temple of Isis, the goddess of fertility, with Darcymose’s familial priest presiding…and no sign of a bridegroom. Again. While the priest was praying for her to be blessed with many children, she was praying that Darcymose might greet his god of death, Anubis, before meeting her.
When she arrived at Pemberlium, she was stunned to learn that her husband had returned and was awaiting her in their quarters.
“You!” Elibeth hissed, reeling with shock upon seeing her new husband, for this was a man she had first met nearly three years earlier, at her second husband’s home. At that time, he had been introduced to her as a friend of the family.
Darcymose stood and tried to wrap his arms around her waist in greeting, but she pushed him away. “Why did you use the name of ‘Wenamun’ and not Darcymose when we first met?” she demanded.
“Wenamun was my mother’s surname.” Darcymose said. “My father had just passed away, at that time. I did not want women fawning over me.”
She thought back at the grim countenance he had often shown at that time, and felt a tinge of sympathy. “I did not know,” she said. “I am sorry.”
He pulled her with him, urging her to sit on the edge of the bed, and she allowed him to do so.
“But why did you marry me?” she asked in bewilderment. “Did you not say, back then, that my maidenhead might not be breakable because I was cursed? That, since my first husband had died before he could have a taste of my lips, the same would probably come true for my second husband, as well?”
He held her hands and rubbed them gently. Gazing down at her, he said, “I fell in love with you then. Of course I wished your second husband dead.”
A shiver ran through Elibeth’s body. “How could you fall in love with me? We only dined and talked together a few times.”
“We danced once, as well.”
His fingers left her palms and smoothed their way up her arms. She felt a warm current flowing through her body. “But that was three years ago.”
“I had to allow a respectable amount of time to pass before I claimed you. I did not want your previous family to think we had formed an attachment back then. They would complain to the vizier and complicate the matter. But I have been keeping a close eye on your family. Had your mother wanted to marry you off sooner, I would have initiated my plan immediately.” His hands reached her shoulders, and he used his thumbs to make circular motions at the base of her neck.
“I did not wish to marry again.” She trembled, feeling the coarse texture of his thumbs and breathing in his musky scent. “What if I fight you?”
He remembered their last encounter. She had just heard about the death of her husband, and had seemed extremely relieved to know that she would soon be leaving that family. He recalled that, after drinking a few glasses of wine at dinner, her face had turned a lovely shade of pink.
He had rejoiced in the news for he known her husband was a violent man and that she would soon be freed, and so he himself had consumed a bit more than he should, as well. When he met her in the garden later that night, he could not suppress his ardent feelings, and kissed her passionately.
Taken by surprised, she had tried to struggle at first, but his lips soon persuaded her. By the time he parted her tunic and suckled her nipples, she was lost in the moment. She enjoyed his magical tongue and lips, feeling a pulse pounding between her thighs.
Only when he pushed his hands under her clothes and cupped her womanhood did sanity returned to her. She would not cheat on her husband on the day of his death, no matter how strongly she was attracted to this handsome man. And so she pushed him away.
He stood back at once, but extended his hand to touch her creamy mounds one last time. She, however, would have none of it, and slapped his face before running out of the garden.
Thinking back now on her temper and the fiery glint in her eyes, he was eager to provoke her passions once again. “You are welcome to fight me,” he teased. Putting a hand on her shoulder, he grasped the front of her dress and tugged one side of it open. “But in bed only.”
She gasped and raised her hand to strike him.
Anticipating her response, he caught her hand and lowered his head to kiss her wrist. Then he traced his lips down her arm and then across her breast until he reached her exposed nipple.
When he used his lips to pull her nipple taut, then wet the tight-gathered tip with his tongue, all strength left her body, and she subsided onto the bed.
He followed her lush body down and pushed the other side of the dress off her shoulder, baring her white alabaster breasts to his burning gaze. With three years of longing and ardency to fuel him, he devoured her creamy mounds, licking, suckling and squeezing them.
As his mad ministrations continued, the temperature in her body grew. She had never known such passion before. She tore at his hair, pressing him to her chest, then thrashed her head from side to side in sensual torment. She loved his torturing kisses but she wanted more, so much more...
She felt his hands leave her body as he struggled to strip off his clothes, and she whimpered in protest. He caught her nipple in his teeth in response. She screamed in ecstasy and reached her peak in that instant, trembling violently and feeling a wave of honey-sweet sensation at her apex. Then she went limp, as if floating on a cloud.
He quickly stripped off his clothes and returned to her. When he pressed his naked flesh against her hot skin, he felt that he had come home. He rubbed rhythmically against her, calling her urgently back from her bliss.
His hands kneaded her, dispensing with her gown, awakening every inch of her gorgeous body. Her breathing quickened again, and she parted her thighs instinctively to welcome his body.
He needed no additional encouragement. Guiding her legs to wrap around his waist, he pushed into her hot core with a forceful thrust, claiming her.
She moaned aloud as his hard shaft tore through her maidenhead and continued inward to press against her inner muscles. Panting hard, she felt him drive deeper and deeper, until he had reached her very hilt. Then he pulled out quickly, almost to the entrance, creating a burning sensation on her skin, before pounding into her with vigor once again.
She screamed in ecstasy as her inner muscles were stretched and rubbed by the passage of his throbbing manhood, in and out, on and on. Her hands dug into the muscles of his back, squeezing them hard when he was deep inside her and caressing them softly when he retreated to her entrance.
His muscular torso pressed and tantalised her twin peaks as his body drove up and down against her own. His lips kissed her earlobe as her teeth bit into his shoulder. Sweat against sweat, moan against moan, kiss against kiss, they strove.
He plunged into her for what seemed like ages, continuing long after she reached her peak of delight. Only when her fingernails traced his bottom and then teased at the juncture of his laboring thighs did he surrender and explode, crying out in utter satisfaction as he filled her with his seed. Completed, they trembled and convulsed together as one soul.
Was Elibeth’s prayer in the Temple of Isis answered? Fortunately not.
Her third husband, Darcymose, lived to an old age and blessed her with many children. He could be rough and wild at some times, yet gentle and deeply tender at others. Although she did not love him in the beginning, she soon learned of his good character and became happy in her love of her husband soon thereafter.
As time went on, there could be seen in the gallery hall of Pemberlium many touching portraits and statues of their family, including children and grandchildren, revealing their marital delight and the warmth within their entire family, a happy history on display for the delight and inspiration of future generations.
What if Mr. Darcy was cursed?
Colonel Elizabeth Bennet surveyed the number of offerings with keen interest. Although her job was well remunerated, she still loved a bargain. She wanted to buy a robotic pet, this time. Since her sister Jane had married and moved out, she felt that her space station was a bit too quiet.
“Eliza!” The high pitch voice of Lt. Colonel Bingley gave her a shudder. “Did you have a good Christmas break?”
“Yes, great. And you, Lieutenant Colonel Bingley?” Elizabeth inquired politely, making a mental note of the fact that Caroline didn’t address her as ‘Colonel,’ as she should. On the other hand, Elizabeth’s sister Jane was now married to Caroline’s brother Charles, making them sisters-in-law.
“Looking for a Christmas bargain? How about this miniature laser gun? It’s cheap enough to be within your budget,” Caroline said with a smirk.
Elizabeth’s lips thinned. The lower-ranking officer came from a wealthy family, and she never let Elizabeth forget that her brother had ‘lowered’ himself to marry Jane.
“I don’t need a gun, off duty.” Elizabeth said, and moved on as a robotic green dragon some ten feet in height caught her fancy.
“What can this dragon do?” Colonel Bennet asked the captain in the sales ring.
“This is Dragon Wickham, made of titanium alloy. It can fly, and it can also arrange laundry or papers, due to its colour differentiation IQ.”
Elizabeth pressed the muzzle of the dragon and it spoke. “Good day, Sir.”
“It’s not very intelligent. It can’t distinguish my gender,” Elizabeth remarked to the captain.
“Maybe because you don’t look like a woman,” Caroline said, intruding upon the conversation. Elizabeth had to admit that her sister-in-law dressed more femininely and provocatively, in leather vest and matching skirt, laced together. The flesh of Caroline’s medically perfected breasts and hips was on display.
Elizabeth was traditional. She had never gone through plastic surgery, and so her body was not in symmetry.
Caroline pressed the muzzle of Dragon Wickham, and it greeted her by saying, “Lovely day, my dear.” She snickered at Elizabeth with a triumphant smile.
“What is your intelligence makeup?” Elizabeth asked the dragon robot, sincerely interested. She wouldn’t allow the annoying Caroline to distract her.
“Sir, I have an IQ of 138. I aim to serve, please and deliver for my master. Would you like a lick job on your tired legs?” Dragon Wickham inquired, and flapped its gigantic green wings as it circled around the two women.
Elizabeth laughed. It had a wicked sense of humour that she found quite charming. After a few more questions, she decided that it’s not very smart but was great fun. She wrote her price down on her iComp, as she intended to bid for it.
Caroline leaned forward and stole a glance at the figure Elizabeth had written, determined to bid for this robotic pet, too.
She was furious that her brother had married Elizabeth’s sister, causing them to be related. Caroline was richer, prettier and taller. The fact that Elizabeth had been made a Colonel at the young age of 20 didn’t necessarily mean that she was smarter than Caroline.
Ever since Colonel Bennet had overtaken Caroline’s rank earlier in the year, the latter had vowed to annoy her, whenever she had a chance. Now, Caroline was determined to buy up everything Elizabeth wanted.
As her rival walked on, Caroline was distracted by some shimmering feathers. The rainbow-coloured headpiece would complement her black leather gear quite well...
Elizabeth was happy she had managed to lose the annoying Caroline. She moved on and was looking at an e-Fan, a computerassisted cooling device, when someone addressed her.
“Colonel, I’m a far better pet dragon than Wickham.” Elizabeth turned to see a small oriental dragon, gold in colour, sitting alone by the corner of the Intelligent Machine section.
“How do you know my rank? You’re not considered a pet dragon anyway,” Elizabeth murmured.
“With an IQ of 300, I’m classified as an Intelligent Machine. But I can be your pet robot.”
This dragon was only about a foot long. Elizabeth thought it look too sad and serious for her liking, but she did like talking with a more intelligent pet, so she didn’t rule it out. At least, not yet. And she liked its deep, smooth voice, as well.
“I knew your ranking because I’m equipped with a scanning device that enabled me to see your uniform and compare it to the information in my database.”
Elizabeth nodded with approval.
“What can you do, then?” she asked.
“Everything Dragon Wickham can do and more.”
Elizabeth was amused by the little dragon’s reply and teased it. “Do you have a personal vendetta against the giant dragon?”
“We were made by the same manufacturer, at around the same time, but he’s always too charming for my tastes.”
“It can serve, please and deliver,” Elizabeth stated, challenging the tiny dragon with its rival’s abilities.
“He’s best able to please his masters with his bright green colour, gigantic size and silver tongue, for those who are into outward appearance,” the little dragon said dismissively.
“And you’re not into that?”
“I’m deeper than that. I promise loyalty, honesty and responsibility to my masters.”
Elizabeth nodded at this further sign of the tiny dragon’s intelligence.
“You look rather lonely,” it observed. “I’m good with heart-to-heart chat, should you feel so inclined.”
She raised her eyebrows. Perhaps it was too smart for her.
“I compared your facial expression to my database, and deduced that you’re smart, decisive, lonely, pretty…”
Her mouth curled up. Definitely too smart.
“Can you fly?” she asked. “You don’t have wings like Dragon Wickham.”
“I’m an oriental dragon. I use the strength of my long tail to fly.”
She looked at it sceptically. It’s so tiny that she’s unsure how it defined a ‘long’ tail.
But the dragon lifted off suddenly and landed on her shoulder. “Pick me, Colonel Bennet. You won’t regret it,” it whispered in her ear, blowing warm air against her earlobe, making her shiver pleasantly.
“What’s your name?” she asked, a bit unsettled by its action.
“Dragon Darcy. And I’m a male dragon.”
She nodded. It – he – was strangely arrogant, but interesting enough, and so she wrote down a figure, half of what she was prepared to pay for Dragon Wickham.
Dragon Darcy then flew back to his stand and gave her a serious gaze.
At the end of the day, Caroline bought the huge Dragon Wickham and brought him back to her space station with a smug grin. Elizabeth shrugged her shoulders, untroubled at being outbid by Caroline.
On reflection, Elizabeth had decided that Dragon Darcy was quite special, and had purchased him. She seldom saw any oriental dragons. Most pet robots were western dragons.
“Welcome to Longbourn.” Elizabeth talked to Darcy.
“It’s comfortable, despite its size.”
She arched her eyebrows, not sure that she should accept such a condescending tone from her pet.
“Let me pack up your sister’s things. You can redecorate the station to your taste,” Darcy said, and flew off to attend to the chore.
“You’re too smart for your own good!” Elizabeth called after him. But she smiled. She and Jane did indeed have different tastes, so the decoration in the station was a compromise. Since Jane had moved out, she had intended for some time to revamp the decorating scheme to one that was more to her taste. It seemed that Darcy’s database was extremely discerning. He could read her emotions, or perhaps even her thoughts.
He turned and brushed his mouth, with its delicate whiskers and beard, against her cheek. “You would be bored to death with me in two days if I weren’t so smart.”
She laughed out loud and pushed him away.
So the majestic tiny Dragon Darcy settled in at Longbourn, welcoming Elizabeth home after her hard day at work. He was handy in domestic chores like cooking, washing, repairing the plumbing and many more. He also became her confidante, offering her views and opinions on topics ranging from climate change, power struggles to the annoyance of her mother.
“What did Mrs. Bennet do this time?” Dragon Darcy greeted the Colonel. He could see that her eyes were flashing with frustration.
“She fixed me up with a blind date.”
“You don’t want to find a husband?”
“Colonel Collins is a toad, and I’ve suffered through two hours of his silly conversation.”
“Too slimy?”
“Stupid, like a lap dog to his commanding officer.”
“I thought obedience was a recommended quality in the army,” he argued.
“Obedience is one thing. Smoothing the senior’s ego is another.”
“Flattery gets people into better places.”
“Unfortunately, yes. And Mother said that if I don’t settle down now, I won’t find any man willing to marry me when I reach the rank of General. What a stupid notion! It’s the 30th century. A woman doesn’t need a man to make her life full anymore. I can use vibrators, or buy a man-whore robot to satisfy myself. And there are clinics, if I want children.”
“True, but the journey of falling in love and finding a soul mate is worth it,” he countered.
“What do you know about love?” she demanded.
“I know more than you might think,” he replied in a wistful tone of longing.
“Ah, your intelligent database again,” she said, and shook her head.
“Let’s forget about this slimy toad. I’ll draw you a bath.”
As Elizabeth lay in the lavender-scented bubbles, she felt the stress of the blind date and the frustration with her mother disappear. She was glad of Darcy’s attention to detail.
“Thanks, Darcy,” she said and closed her eyes.
“Don’t mention it.” He flew in and out of the water, dipping and lifting the bubbles, messing it around the bathroom and all over her hair.
“Stop it!” she protested, and laughed.
He flew near her and used his whiskers and beard to nuzzle her nose.
“Naughty!” She grabbed him by the waist, preventing him from flying off. Suddenly their eyes met, and they gazed at each other intently.
“Thank you, Darcy, for cheering me up. I love you,” she said, then pulled the dragon toward her and kissed his nose.
Blast!
Suddenly, she felt the scales on Darcy’s body vibrate, and she lost her grip on the tiny dragon. Her eyes widened as she saw Dragon Darcy’s skin burst open as the foot-long dragon began to grow larger. His body elongated alarmingly, both in length and in girth.
By the time he had grown to roughly six feet, Elizabeth had scrambled out of the bath tub and plastered herself against the wall, too shocked to utter a word.
Then Darcy’s tail seemed to lose the strength to hold his bigger body aloft, and he dropped into the bubble bath with a big splash.
“Darcy, are you alright?” Elizabeth cried out and hurried to the edge of the tub.
The water stirred and whirled at high speed, and the bubbles became murky. She was preparing to dip her hands into the water in search of her pet robot when his head abruptly emerged from under the bubbles.
He shook off the water and looked at Elizabeth.
She gaped at him, astonished. Dragon Darcy was no longer a dragon.
“Elizabeth,” he said, in his normal deep voice.
“Darcy? Is this…you?”
“Yes.”
“But how could you turn into…a man?”
“I was cursed, nearly two hundred years ago.” He blinked away the water and pushed himself up from the tub. “Rather like the prince and the frog.”
“Cursed? By whom?”
“Witch Catherine de Bourgh.”
Elizabeth gaped. “Truly? Why?”
“I refused to marry her sickly daughter. I was hoping to marry for love.”
“You poor thing!” she exclaimed.
But he was not a poor thing at all. Elizabeth’s mouth still showed a tendency to hang open, for he was an exquisite specimen of a male human being. Around six feet five inches tall, he had broad shoulders, a hard six-pack, a pert butt and masculine legs, not to mention an extremely well-endowed manhood.
He also sported a beard and long hair. As he brushed the scales from his body, she couldn’t drag her gaze away from his naked form.
He stopped midway through brushing away the scales on his shaft when he caught her looking at him with sparkling eyes.
“You broke the curse when you kissed me and said that you loved me. I’m all yours from now on,” he said with a grin.
“All mine?”
“Yes. Your pet, your servant, your man-whore…and your husband, if you will have me.”
She was speechless but tempted. She licked her lips and gazed at him intensely.
Darcy took over decisively. Picking her up, he carried her to the bedroom. “I haven’t slept with a woman for two hundred years. I have a lot to catch up on, if you’re willing,” Darcy said, and with that he lowered his mouth and kissed her tenderly.
At the young age of twenty, Elizabeth had not yet slept with a man, so she was nervous. But she reminded herself that she had known him for half a year. She genuinely liked him, his arrogance, intelligence, sensitivity and all. Since he said he would be hers from now on, who was she to pass on such a chance to use him for a bit of fun?
She ran her fingers along his neck, then smoothed her palms over his shoulders and back, then down to his tightly muscled bottom. Occasionally, she still encountered a scale or two, tangible reminders to her that he had so recently been a dragon. But as Darcy trailed hot, wet kisses from her ear to her collarbone, and down to her breasts, she shivered with anticipation.
His tongue was magical. He licked and twirled around her aureole, first on one breast, then on the other, making them peak. Then his teeth gently pulled at the hardened nipples. She felt a mixture of pain and pleasure race down to the apex of her thighs.
She moaned aloud as he used his fingers to caress her nub and folds. When he pushed a finger into her core, then two, thrusting in and out, preparing her for what was to come later, she screamed to her climax within minutes.
He didn’t stop there. While her heart was still pumping fast, her inner muscles still pulsing, she felt him move lower to worship her sex with his mouth.
In an instant, she was burning again. She twisted and thrust her sensitised body to avoid his magical mouth but he held her hips to still her. His tongue lapped up her juice and pushed into her core. In between thrusts of his tongue, his lips nipped at her hidden bud, rubbing it to swollen ripeness.
Her moans became louder and louder until he drove her over the edge with his hard, clever tongue. Her body jerked up and down as the ecstasy of orgasm exploded in her body.
Only then did he slide his thick shaft into her, in a single mighty thrust. Her body was swimming in the afterglow of two climaxes, And she felt no pain at all when he broke through her barrier.
Knowing that he had stretched and strained her inner muscles, he held still, allowing her to grow used to the presence of his burning, throbbing rod within her, while his hands and mouth returned to tease and pleasure her lips and breasts.
When she began to pant and squirm hungrily again, he resumed his movements in her. He raised and lowered his body, slowly at first, coaxing until she reciprocated the same actions. He thrust and she squeezed. He withdrew and she raised her hips. Their intimate slow dance turned into quick steps very soon. He pounded into her, impaling her, with the eagerness of a thirsty man who has travelled across the desert without water and finally found the oasis. He drank in her scent, her juice and her essence with every frenetic thrust of his shaft.
But Darcy stopped as she neared the peak, and allowed her to slide back to a calmer plateau. Then he repeated the journey and brought her to the brink again. Her nails dug into his back as he lifted her up and down, raging through the valleys and mountains of sexual exploration again and again.
It felt as if the journey took ages. Elizabeth was at the sixth or seventh near-peak when she took control, tracing her fingertips along his spine and down into the crease of his butt, thus pushing him over the edge. She rode him, pulsing and shivering, and reached her peak at last.
They convulsed and vibrated in unison, crying aloud in ecstasy as he spilled his boiling seed into her, sealing their love.
Once Dragon Darcy was freed of the curse, there was no holding him back. He retained his intelligence and integrated into modern society with Elizabeth’s help. Elizabeth, in her turn, found that she didn’t want him to be her pet or servant. They soon married, and he joined the galaxy army, as well. Within two short years, husband and wife reached the rank of General together.
Lieutenant Colonel Caroline Bingley had tried to discover where Elizabeth met her magnificent husband. But she never uncovered the truth, beyond the simple fact that they had met during the galaxy Christmas bargain sales.
After several failed attempts to seduce Darcy, which resulted in her being humiliated by the silent treatment of the couple, she finally gave up. She lived alone, accompanied only by her pet dragon robot Wickham. She lamented, after all, that she had not really found so fine a bargain as had that annoying Eliza.