Thursday, June 30, 2016

VII – Playing Games

The sweet sound of her begging moans and weak grunts had faded into less than pleading whimpers as the hours went by. She was so tired and spent that she hardly had it in her anymore to do anything but keep breathing. Her athletic body was coated in a thin sheen of perspiration, her face streaked with tears and drool, and her hair was an awful mess after being frequently employed as reins. Kyrah was rather tired as well. Panting, her own hair in tangles and her body wet with her sweaty efforts, she lay on top of little Tara, weathering the latest orgasm by biting her lower lip and keeping her eyes closed. The vibrating dildo she had used – a curved, knobby thing that she inserted deep inside herself and kept in place simply by clamping her vaginal walls around it – to fuck her newest female slave had ravaged them both to several powerful climaxes, but it was no doubt that Kyrah was the only one who truly enjoyed herself.

The human female – Tara – had spent several hours licking Kyrah to a handful of mellow orgasms under threat of choking, as Kyrah preferred to smother the little human to coax her to lick and suck more vigorously. She had started off rather reluctant and inexperienced in cunnilingus, but with the proper “incitement”, Tara had learned to eat Kyrah out in the way that made her toes curl and her loins burn.

She had made Tara lick and suck so much that her tongue had gotten sore and red, and while the human’s improved regeneration would see to the little wound in no time, Kyrah had decided that the tongue-handicap was the perfect excuse to move on to the next part.

Hands cuffed behind Tara’s back, Kyrah had attached a collar around the mare’s slender neck – the very same one she had instructed Ak’vel to put on the boy – and teleported them both to Kyrah’s personal bedchamber – a feat the girl couldn’t help but seem impressed about, which made Kyrah wonder what good human technology could be at all if simple teleportation was something to gawk at.

Once in her large, soft gravity-bed covered in pristine white sheets, Kyrah had engaged the bed’s engines to let it float, soundlessly, inside the dimly lit room of purple floors and walls. Disengaging the wall in front of the bed, the purple steel alloy turned transparent, showing the image through the mechanical eye of a hull-mounted camera, effectively turning the entire wall into a huge viewport. Through it, the human world spun slowly, Thelluloid ships in high anchor all around, many engaged in orbital bombardment or pouring more Imperial fighters to the fight.

With this gorgeous vista spread out before the floating bed, Kyrah had donned her favourite dildo – one end slipping into her cunt, the other ready to penetrate another – and taken the mare for a proper ride. She had decided not to gag her in order to hear her wails and pleads all the better, the room filling with the sweet sounds of her thighs slapping the girl’s ass as she screamed “please stop” over and over.

So far, Kyrah was extremely pleased with the new acquisitions to her slave-harem. The boy’s cum soothed her itch oh so well, and the frightened girl was a delight to fuck, hearing her beg for mercy and plead for Kyrah to stop like the sweetest music, both of them orgasming frequently though Tara’s climaxes were only a by-product of Kyrah’s rough fucking to get herself off.

Kyrah had to stop for a moment and remind herself to relish this part of her new slaves, when they were still trying to resist, when they hadn’t yet been broken and therefore thought there was anything they could do to earn their new owner’s pardon should they just try hard enough to please her.

Trouble was, as the humans would realize soon enough, the only thing Kyrah wanted from them was submission and helplessness. For the girl, this meant eating Kyrah’s cunt or receive a brutal fucking. For the boy, this meant a continuous supply of fresh seed for Kyrah to devour whenever she wanted to. She was not one for moderation, and she had already developed a taste for the human’s cum.

Vials of the human’s thick, viscous seed were sent straight to Kyrah through the ship’s teletransportation matrix whenever Ak’vel forced him to orgasm. But after gluttonously consuming more than thirteen vials, she decided to reprogram the vials to go straight to nullentropic storage, where time would not wear on the substances kept within its nestling stasis fields, keeping the cum fresh forever as though it had just been squeezed out of the balls.

Planting her knees on the mattress, she rose above her little mare, the wet dildo sliding out of the slave’s ravaged pussy as she did. She loved seeing Tara just lie there, too fucked-out to even protest anymore. Kyrah reached down and grabbed handfuls of the humans delicious ass, being rewarded with a mournful whimper when she squeezed.

“Do you think we are done already?” she mocked. “I am afraid my libido is far from satisfied yet, little one.”

Tara could only sob. She was too weak to do anything. Not that resisting helped. If the difference in size was the only obstacle between the two, she believed that, with her combat training, she could offer at least a passable fight. But her captor was stronger than she looked, too, easily pinning Tara down if she ever got too unruly before resuming the rape.

“Please… no more…” she panted, her tongue feeling like it had scraped sand paper repeatedly after being forced to lick Kyrah’s cunt for so long, her pussy throbbing and aching from the continuous fucking.

Her shoulders were tired from having her hands bound behind her back, and whilst the material of the cuffs themselves were like soft leather, they were clamping onto her uncomfortably tight.

Kyrah let out a soft, if ominous laugh, feeling a bead of sweat trickle down her cleavage. Spreading the human’s ass cheeks, she revealed the puckered pink asshole, and brushing her thumb against it produced a deliciously frightened whimper from the girl.

“Only one hole left in your body that I have yet to sample,” she mocked with a big grin. Gently pushing her thumb against the hole, not enough to push it in but enough to make Tara think that she would. The little human’s body tensed from tip to toe.

“Please don’t!” she pleaded.

“I have already told you, Tara, if you wish to beseech my mercy or my general kindness, what must you call me?”

“Mistress! Please, mistress, don’t!”

Smiling, Kyrah landed a hard smack on Tara’s right buttock, making her squeal.

“Now now, slave, as your mistress, your body is mine to do with as I please.” She planted one hand next to Tara’s upper arm and, leaning over her, put her head next to hers, the other hand grabbing a fistful of the mare’s brown tresses, yanking her head up so that they were cheek to cheek.

Kyrah’s hard nipples scraping against the human’s silken back was enough to make her have to bite her lip before she spoke sultrily, quietly. “And right now, it would please me greatly to fuck you in the ass.”

Tara sobbed anew, despair overcoming her once more.

“But oh no,” the Ar’a said with exaggerated theatricality, eying the floating basin of lube, hovering next to the bed barely out of arm’s reach. “The lube is all the way over there. I don’t think your pussy juices on my dildo is going to be quite enough to make the anal penetration any less painful for you.”

Hearing the girl’s continued wails was more than enough to make Kyrah’s pussy throb expectantly around the vibrator, her g-spot rubbing against the toy’s smooth surface.

“Oh, I just got an idea,” she tittered cheekily, making shivers jolt through Tara’s body.

Sliding over Tara – towards the side of the bed furthest away from the floating basin of lube – Kyrah, by a simple verbal command, made the levitating bed lower enough towards the floor so that she could step down onto it. Grabbing Tara by her hair, she unceremoniously pulled the human towards the edge of the bed, making her scream in pain, turning her around in the same motion so that she was on her back and her head hung off the side of the bed.

Now holding her mare by the throat, Kyrah murmured, “After all,” she grabbed the dildo with one hand and lined it up with Tara’s mouth. “You have a veritable lube-factory right in here.”

Tara tried protesting, tried squirming away, but any significant struggling would cause herself to choke on Kyrah’s blue hand around her neck over the collar, and as soon as she opened her mouth to plead – knowing it would get her nowhere – Kyrah pushed the dildo inside, the bulbous head parting her teeth with ease as it slid inside.

“Ooh fuck,” Kyrah murmured, feeling the tightness of Tara’s mouth simulated in the way her advanced dildo throbbed and vibrated her insides.

Initially she sank the long toy halfway into Tara’s mouth, which was enough to make the poor thing gag, a shower of spittle spraying from her mouth to splash on Kyrah’s thighs and Tara’s face.

Mouth half open in a pleasured sigh, Kyrah moved her hands to grab Tara’s breasts, which were big for the human’s lithe frame. Pulling the dildo out until just the tip remained inside her mouth, she slowly sank it back in again, once more hearing and feeling the human struggle when it got halfway in.

“Theeeere we go, now we’re gonna get it nice and slick, ready to penetrate that sweet asshole.”

Keeping her hold on Tara’s tits, kneading and squeezing the wondrous flesh, Kyrah bucked her hips, forcing the dildo deeper into her throat. From this position, Tara’s neck stretching from the head hanging off the side of the mattress, Kyrah could see Tara’s throat start to bulge when the dildo got far enough inside her mouth.

Already Tara’s feet were flailing on the bed, kicking the air and flopping from side to side. With another pleasured sigh, Kyrah withdrew the dildo until it was about a third of the way inside Tara’s mouth. Then, taking a step forward, she pitilessly sank it into her mouth all the way to the hilt with a slow but forceful thrust.

Tara was kicking, gagging, feeling her head spin. Tears were pushing forth from the corners of her eyes, and the violent intrusion into her mouth made spittle and drool run out of her lips down her face, getting into her eyes and nostrils.

Eyes rolling into the back of her head, her breath failing her and her vision impaired by enveloping blackness and her own saliva, she was blissfully able to fill her lungs with a desperate inhale when Kyrah drew the fake cock about two thirds out, but only so that she could push it all the way back in again.

Earlier, Tara had considered it was fitting that Kyrah had horns, for so far she had never encountered anyone this demonic.

Kyrah loved watching her slave struggle. Watch her fight to stay conscious, seeing her legs flap and flail, hearing her gargled grunts and feeling more and more spit cover her thighs as they slapped against the human’s cheeks.

Most of all she loved how her tight throat made her feel through the dildo, buzzing and throbbing in her dripping cunt as she manhandled the slave’s tits.

Most brands of pseudo-manhoods for the females of the Thelluloid Empire to purchase were very advanced, their built-in software able to distinguish what was being penetrated – mouth, ass or pussy – and relay the relevant physical feedback to the wearer, so that no two holes felt the same. This was also true for different holes of the same kind, like the pussies of two different slaves, and moreover, the toys were also able to make the wearer “feel” when it was being licked or sucked.

Losing herself in the throat fuck, the chamber resonating with the wonderful sounds of slapping thighs and gagging moans, Kyrah rolled her head back and closed her eyes, her hands still helping themselves to the mare’s soft womanflesh as she fucked her way to yet another orgasm.

Weathering the climax with a long and low moan, Kyrah didn’t realize she was standing all the way against Tara with her head between her thighs, the dildo firmly embedded as far down her throat as it could go. With a smile, hooking some wild strands of white hair behind her pointy ear where they had come undone during the thrusting, she stepped back and, slowly, withdrew the dildo.

Several long strands of thick saliva harvested from the back of Tara’s throat bridged the growing gap between the dildo and Tara’s lips, only reluctantly breaking when the distance became too great. The dildo was absolutely coated in the human’s spittle, and so was Tara’s face.

It took a moment before there was any reaction from Tara, who just lay there like a gutted fish for a few seconds after Kyrah’s toy had vacated her mouth. Then, with a coughing fit and violent convulsions, the human regained her senses, heaving for air.

“Pleah… ple… please… mis…” she offered feebly between gulps of air.

Smiling, Kyrah grabbed Tara’s nipples with her thumbs and forefingers and gave them a squeeze, tug and twist, producing a very weak, painful groan from her.

“There we are, all lubed up and good to go.”

Tara tried sobbing, tried pleading, but she was having a tough enough time to breathe. Her throat felt violated because that was just what it was, and the burning sensation in her chest made it difficult to summon the necessary breath to form words.

She dreaded what she knew was coming. The only un-raped hole she had left was about to change its status.

With ease, Kyrah repositioned Tara on the floating bed so that she was on her belly with her legs hanging off the side of it. The slave’s brown hair was a mess, all over the place, and her flushed, spit and tear covered face was crowned with her helpless, confused expression.

Spurred on by the latest orgasm – as Ar’a were prone to, even their bodies having no sense to know when it was okay to call it a day – Kyrah grabbed the human’s hips and stepped close enough for the spit-covered tip of her dildo to push against the mare’s asshole, but not enough to make it enter.

“Has anybody ever fucked you in the ass?”

“No…” she whined. “Please… don’t…”

Licking her teeth inside her mouth, delighted that she’d be the first to enter the human’s tightest opening, she asked “Do you think Kayven pleaded and begged before Ak’vel took his virginity?”

She’d been so busy with her own predicament, that Tara had forgotten all about how Kayven had been dragged away by that huge purple slave-trainer. She had been scared for the both of them long before she had entered the room, but most of all, she remembered the way she had asked Kayven that question.

Have you been fucked in the ass before?

Now Kyrah had asked her a very similar question, but whilst Kyrah’s words “only” made her even more fearful and pleading, the way Ak’vel had asked Kayven had sent shards of ice ravaging through her body. She shuddered to imagine that hulking beast raping Kayven, but even more, as it applied to her, she dreaded that dildo currently pressed against her opening actually coming inside.

Grinning, holding Tara down by her hips, Kyrah pushed her own hips forwards, forcing the tip of her dildo inside, relishing in the way the slave tensed up, her mouth screwed open in a silent scream.

“Mmm, that feels so nice and tight, slave.” She continued moving it inside at a steady pace, not stopping until it was all the way inside.

Once all the way inside, Kyrah immediately set to work, pumping her asshole at a medium pace, letting out a soft hum of pleasure.

Delighting in the wondrous tightness of Tara’s virgin asshole, seeing her butt cheeks ripple when she slapped her thighs against them, Kyrah spared a thought to her other human slave, her new milking stud, wondering how his trainer was currently keeping his cock busy. And, indeed, if he had made a loud show of himself as Ak’vel raped away his asshole’s virginity.


At some point during the brutal milking and fucking, ravaged by hypersensitivity in his constantly milked cock, having his ass repeatedly and forcefully penetrated by the huffing, hulking woman behind him, the sensory overstimulation and intensity had caused Kayven to pass out.

He had no idea how many times he had been made to cum, shooting his ever diminishing, yet inhumanly large load into the milking machine. It should have been impossible for any man to cum as often as he did, not to mention as much as he did. It was safe to say the alterations the aliens had done to him were to blame, and it was scary to contemplate just what they had done to him whilst he had been unconscious, after they had taken him from the battlefield.

Not to mention that despite the refractory period – the period after an orgasm where it should be impossible for a man to orgasm again – and despite the indescribable hypersensitivity he remained able to cum.

Just before he passed out, the cumulative sensations of post-orgasmic torture stacked with consecutive climaxes and joined with the ruthless pegging visited upon him by Ak’vel, Kayven’s cock, balls and asshole felt like they had caught fire and were wreaking havoc with his senses. In a way, it was a relief to have lost consciousness, but he doubted very much it was good for him.

He recalled all of this upon waking, but, curiously, he felt completely fine. His nether regions no longer felt like they were burning, his ass – though sore – felt blissfully freed from the huge dildo, and strangest of all, he felt completely rested, like he had slept a full night. But he knew he hadn’t been out for quite that long.

As reality reasserted itself in his mind, he felt a warm, wet spot on his belly, moving side to side and slowly up towards his chest. Carefully opening his eyes, letting them adjust to the glow coming from above him, he saw Rhai on his left.

The gorgeous pink girl, still completely naked, her massive breasts pushed together from her upper arms pushing against their outer slopes, was gently scrubbing his belly with a piece of fluffy cloth, warm water cleaning away the sweat he had worked up during his first session with Ak’vel.

Rhai was seriously attractive. Alien or no, she was all woman. Her form was exquisite, her golden eyes like amicable stars in her sweet face, and her long ginger hear pulled in a tight ponytail suited her perfectly. The pointy ears added an additional exotic flare to her, as if the rest of her failed to.

She was simply beautiful, the only things not at home on her the collar around her neck, and the worried look on her face.

Seeing that concerned expression made Kayven want to reach out to comfort her– Which was when he realized he was restrained, and trying to yelp his alarm made him aware of the sphere secured in his mouth.

He was on his back, legs spread, arms spread down his sides, straps holding him down above the elbows, over the wrists, over the thighs, below the knees and around the ankles. He could move his head, but that was it. He was still in the chamber where he had passed out, but the things that had restrained him earlier where nowhere to be seen, replaced instead by this metallic slab he was on that was clearly meant to hold somebody of his size immobile.

When he stirred and tried to form words, Rhai’s eyes darted to his. Realizing he was awake, her expression first changed to surprise, then to caution, before finally giving him a sympathetic smile, one meant to be reassuring but one that also said there was nothing she could do for him. So instead she kept washing him, using one hand to move the scrub further up whilst she tenderly placed her other hand on his cheek, stroking it with her thumb.

She ached so much for him, but she knew she was powerless to help him at all. Instead she would try to convey a sense of security when she was with him. At least that should make him feel more at ease with her, give him a respite between the sessions.

It had been painful to be forced to watch Ak’vel break him in. It was always a lot worse to see things like that happen to fresh slaves, for it was all new to them; the brutality, the pitiless proceedings, seeing their despairing faces. Kneeling in front of him then, at times having her breasts lashed for Ak’vel’s amusement as she violated the poor boy, she knew she had not been able to give him any sort of comfort. She just prayed he wouldn’t hold it against her when she was ordered by Ak’vel to do anything to him.

Like now, when she was cleaning him. It seemed innocent enough so far, but that wouldn’t last.

Ak’vel had made sure to plan it that way.

Cleansing his skin with the auto-rinsing cloth that drew water from the air and heated it to just under body temperature, Rhai efficiently but slowly – sensually – washed the boy down, leaving no inch untouched except for his resting cock. At times when she leaned over him, her heavy breasts pushed and pooled against him, her hard nipples dragging along his skin, and at infrequent intervals she stopped to place kisses on his body.

Kayven was confused by what was happening, still terrified and a little angry, considering what he had just been through. The fear and anger were readily justified, but the way the little Hynger cleaned him with such care and, it seemed, devotion, was an element to his predicament that he had trouble understanding.

All about his captivity so far had left nothing to be desired, but the Hynger – sweet little Rhai – seemed to him like she genuinely cared, thought he could recognize compassion and love in her golden eyes.

It was difficult to concentrate on his thoughts, the way she moved the wet, warm piece of cloth – which inexplicably never dried out – on him, and the way she brushed her skin, breasts and lips on him did far too good a job of bringing his male hormones into action.

It started with a stir between his legs, and before long, his erection was complete. Finishing up cleaning him by his feet, her delicate touch not as much as tickling his soles, she threw the cloth aside, but immediately produced a new one. She gingerly stepped between his spread legs and, locking her gaze with his, started cleaning his cock. Cupping his shaft gently with one hand as the other brought the fresh cleaning rag to bear on him, she quickly made his head roll back and a sigh escape his lips.

He looked so sweet, so peaceful for the first time since they had met, which was why she so very much hated what she was doing to him, for it was not to bring him pleasure.

Running the cloth over him – his shaft, cockhead, balls, perineum and anus – she kept him fully hard and throbbing in her hand. She knew all too well that if not for the adjustments that had been done to his physiology he would not had the will to gain an erection again so soon, but that was part of being Kyrah’s milking slave. It meant you were always ready, willing or no, to be harvested.

Tossing the second rag aside as well, she bent down, gently placing her free hand on his belly, right at the navel, and used the other hand to point his straining manhood up, bringing her soft lips to bear on it.

Letting a low groan carry with his exhale, Kayven hurriedly found himself surrendering to Rhai’s mouth. She kept only the head inside it for now, playfully sucking on it as she rubbed her tongue against his frenulum.

After a little while the hand on his belly slid down, her fingers gliding sensually over his skin, until they found his balls and started gently rubbing them as her lips slid down to admit half of his length into her wet mouth.

Ak’vel had claimed Rhai had no equals in the fleet when it came to skills in oral sex, and he was only too happy to believe her. Everything she did, the way she used her tongue, the suction she applied, where she placed her hands and what she did with them, all worked in perfect tandem to heighten the experience, making him crave more, making him shudder with delight.

Taking him all the way down, her lips pressing against his base, she planted her hands on his inner thighs and slid her tongue out of her mouth, worming it between his shaft and her bottom lip to lick and rub over his tightened ballsack, coaxing another moan from him.

Drawing her lips back up so that only the tip remained inside, she got into a very slow, very steady rhythm of deep throating him, up and down, using her tongue to playfully lash against the underside of his shaft inside her mouth as she did.

The boy tried keeping his head up to look at her, his brown eyes describing the joy his gagged mouth could not, until the muscles in his neck felt too strained, forcing him to put his head back down to rest them.

Rhai wrapped one hand around the base of his cock, using it to stroke his saliva-coated hardness in tune with her mouth, up and down and up and down, while her other hand cupped and gently massaged his testicles.

The Hynger expelled so much saliva it was running down his perineum and down over his asshole, and it spoke volumes to how enthralled Rhai had him that Kayven didn’t lock up immediately at feeling something touch him down there again after how Ak’vel had treated it.

Kayven was torn between his mortal fear of his captivity and the heavenly delight emanating throughout his body from his dick, lovingly and orally lavished by Rhai and her talented blue lips. Despite wanting nothing more than to escape – to get as far away from Kyrah and Ak’vel as humanly possible – right then and there, bound on his back with Rhai between his legs, he wanted nothing as much as to just blow his load right into her capable mouth.

As he approached the edge, he surmised the proper thing to do for the one creature aboard this vessel that hadn’t manhandled him in any way was to warn her of his impending orgasm, though he was only able to make sounds through the sphere gagging him.

Knowing he was about to pop – she could always feel how close he was to orgasm just by keeping his tongue on his cock, feeling his pulse – she drew her mouth and hands off him with a parting suck and stroke, leaving the poor, spit-covered cock bouncing and begging for her to finish the job.

With regret, Rhai reached for something under the device Kayven was bound to. Retrieving the purple cock ring, she deftly secured it around his cock and balls, then used the final bit of it to divide his testicles.

“He’s ready, master,” she kneeled obediently between his legs, talking to the shadows behind Kayven’s head.

Kayven froze with dread when he heard the response.

“Good,” Ak’vel smiled evilly. “Then let us continue.”

The huge purple woman with her huge exposed purple tits stood to Kayven’s left, towering over him with her fists on her wide hips, grinning wickedly down at him, making him whimper in fright and his skin crawl just from her presence. The only thing covering her bulging musculature, that Kayven could see from his restrained position, were the skin-tight elbow-gloves.

Looking him up and down, licking her lips and then setting her dark, terrifying eyes on his, AK’vel pressed a button on the side of Kayven’s restraint bed, making a red column of that same strange red material that was frequently used throughout the ship to rise from the floor. It had a screen in the middle of it emanating blue light and twelve circles – arranged in three rows of four – dominating the screen’s space.

“Did you like Rhai’s mouth on your cock, slave?” she asked, one hand on his shoulder, the other grabbing and rubbing his thigh.

“Answer me,” she added when he didn’t respond, with just enough malice in her tone to make him jump in fear and then nod.

“Thank you,” she grinned ominously, making her tusks appear even more prominent. “Since I was the one who trained Rhai to use her mouth correctly, I will take that as a compliment.”

She turned to look at Rhai kneeling between his spread legs, giving her a haughty, almost disinterested look. “Did you enjoy sucking on his hard cock, my slave?”

“Yes master, very much,” she replied without needing to consider the question.

“Of course you did, little slut. Would you have liked it if he shot his sticky, thick cum in your mouth, too?”

“Yes master, I would.”

“I should have imagined, my little whore. You are a greedy girl. Remember, his cum is Kyrah’s property, and you may not feast on it like the slut you are without permission. Understand?”

“Yes, master, perfectly.”

“Good, slave. But you still would have preferred it if I’d let him cum in your mouth?”

Rhai’s eyes flickered to Kayven’s throbbing cock, reddened now by the cock ring, then back to her owner. “Yes, master.”

This produced a throaty, lustful laugh from Ak’vel, who fixed her eyes on the human again. “She makes me so fucking horny when she talks like the whore she is. When I am done with you I’ll take her back to my bed and violate her properly.”

Kayven yelped when the hand that had kneaded his thigh suddenly wrapped around his cock, his entire manhood disappearing from view, tip to base, in her massive hand.

“We are going to play a little game, the three of us,” the Shix trainer longingly growled. She started stroking his cock, very slowly, and yet again Kayven couldn’t quite believe that her bicep was nearly as large as his head. He groaned, looking up at the massive woman, fearing that gleeful expression on her terrifying face. She leaned in, resting her massive breasts on his torso. The soft boobs felt on the one hand awesome and warm, on the other they were very heavy.

“The game is, you have to hold back from cumming while I stroke you for a full hour.”

He let out a pleading sound. There was just no way he would be able to keep himself from cumming for that long.

“If you win, you win,” she said matter of factly, hand still stroking him slowly, her gloved hand sliding on Rhai’s saliva.

“But if you cum while I stroke you, you lose. But you don’t just lose when you cum, for I will keep stroking you for the full hour, and for every time you cum, it will mean one hour with Kyrah’s special pet in Sub-Level 6.”

Kayven had to wonder just what “pet” she was referring to, but figured she was not telling him just what it was to keep him wondering and afraid, as the unknown was a potent fuel for the fire of his terror. In addition, having been sucked so close to orgasm did not help him now in trying to hold back as his entire cock was being massaged in Ak’vel’s big, gloved hand.

He had to try to hold back, to keep himself from whatever fate awaited him at Sub-Level 6, but after but a dozen slow strokes he was already nearing the precipice.

“If you cum, there is another rule,” Ak’vel said softly, almost contentedly, combing the fingers of her free hand through the human’s hair. “If you cum, that is one hour with the pet. But if you cum and you get any of your sticky seed on me, that’s an additional hour.”

So, if he came, that meant two hours with the pet. There was no way he could keep himself from not getting it on Ak’vel, especially since her hand covered his entire manhood from base to head.

Ak’vel loved the conflicting emotions in the boy’s eyes, his pitiful whimpers and how he was visibly tensing, trying to hold the orgasm back. The way he tossed his head from side to side and clenched his eyes was more than enough indication that he was failing miserably.

Of course he wouldn’t be able to hold back. He’d be spending a good long time with Kyrah’s monster in the bowels of the Goddess’ Hand no matter how hard he tried. The objective of the game was not really that he hold back, for that was just a pretence. The real objective was to make the boy understand that, being a slave, he had no say in what happened to him, no control over what they did to him. It was not about him trying to control himself from cumming; it was about him feeling utterly helpless and powerless. A secondary objective of the game was to empty his balls to further adjust his body to its new functions, but that was insignificant when weighed against the primary goal.

That did not mean Ak’vel would not enjoy the pretence of the game as she stroked him, though. Despite dwarfing the human in sheer stature, having his human cock enveloped in her hand made her feel fucking powerful, made her grip it just a little tighter.

“But I said all three of us would play, didn’t I?” Ak’vel asked, not waiting for a response. She looked at her pink property. “Slave, suck his balls. Make them feel loved.”

“Yes, master,” Rhai complied, leaning in so that she could suck on each of the spread balls in turn.

Kayven groaned long and loud. He was so utterly powerless to stop what was happening that he couldn’t keep back a pitiful sob. He tried, though, tried thinking about anything else, tried mentally blocking off the sensations of his cock to stall the inevitable, but it was to no avail.

The orgasm was closing in.

Knowing this, Ak’vel reached her other hand around Kayven’s head and lifted it up, nestling it against her left boob, her hardened nipple poking his cheek. Her other breast still weighed down his belly.

“Let’s see what will happen,” she murmured maliciously. “Watch me stroke you, but don’t cum.”

Kayven begged her, his limbs involuntarily tugging on his bonds, trying to get away. He was so close to the first orgasm already, and the trainer had barely been jerking him off for two minutes, Rhai’s wet tongue and warm mouth on his balls not helping matters at all.

It was all so conflicting. He was being tossed off by someone who clearly knew how to do it, but in his predicament he begged her to take his hand off him and deny him that orgasm he was headed for. Warm flesh of boobs were pillowing against him all the way from his face to his pelvis, and little Rhai was treating his balls to the best oral service they had ever experienced.

They were going to do this to him for a full hour. It was no longer about him trying not to cum; it was about limiting how many times he was forced to.

His eyes watched his cock. He was unable to look away. Watched that huge hand stroking him, jerking him off, making his balls tighten against the cock ring, making his brain scream for release.

“Don’t cum,” Ak’vel said, still stroking him just as slowly, the very tip of his cockhead sometimes poking out from between her index finger curled around it. She gently pressed his head against her tit.

Kayven’s teeth clamped down on the gag. He was so close. He had to… hold it…

“Don’t cum.”

The monotonous, slow strokes never changed, and that’s what made them impossible to ignore.

Trying to shake his way free, whimpering and pleading, his helpless manhood seconds away from erupting, Kayven soon had to give in to the inevitable.

“Don’t cum.”

He came.

Moaning loudly, the orgasm he had tried to deny himself washing over him with double the vigour it would have had he accepted it. He shuddered in tune with his pulse as Ak’vel stroked him through his orgasm, tightening her grip to work every drop out whilst she giggled deep in her gruff throat.

His seed spattered all over the place, landing on his belly, splashing on Ak’vel’s tits and chin, falling on Rhai’s face and chest.

The trainer jerked him all through his orgasm, not stopping for a second, keeping his head against her tit as her dark eyes regarded him with malevolent glee and lust.

“That’s two hours,” she laughed softly, and just then two of the circles on the screen in the red pillar filled with pink, marking the first two hours Kayven would spend with Kyrah’s cum-starved pet in Sub-Level 6.

And there were ten circles on the screen yet to fill.

Monday, June 20, 2016

VI – The Last of the Deimos

He had woken in a daze. For several minutes he struggled to remember who he was, where he was, why everything seemed so faded and distant. Cognition reasserted itself after a while, and then Cody remembered everything; the frantic fighting aboard the Deimos, his and Raquel’s ill-fated escape into the alien capital ship, the gravity trap that had separated them. But between getting snatched and waking he remembered nothing. He assumed he’d been hit with some kind of substance that had knocked him out, as there appeared to be no other explanation.
He had been given a proper scare when the fog had cleared and he noticed that he couldn’t move. He had some kind of grey-blue shackles around his ankles and wrists that seemed to emanate slender tendrils of a perfectly quiet lightning storm, and it was fascinating and terrifying in equal measure that he appeared to be suspended in mid-air, reclined and spread eagle.
He was naked, too. His pilot body glove was gone, as was his weapon, displaying his chiselled muscles, his half dozen scars, and the drooping manhood hanging between his thighs.
He’d be concerned if he wasn’t so damned interested in figuring out what the fuck was going on.
He had no idea why the enemy, bent on destruction as it seemed they were, would even bother taking prisoners. Their attack on Earth had come right out of the blue, unprovoked, no prior contact or communication whatsoever. For Earth’s part, the alien aggressors were a completely anonymous factor in the universe, one whose capabilities, motivations and ultimate intentions were totally unknown.

Cody had been ready to kill, to show the alien bastards a thing or two about terrestrial combat proves and brutality, but his Grinder’s early impairment had kept him out of the fight for the most part.
In the back of his mind, even Cody – trained to be an aggressive, relentless fighter within his mech-suit though he was – knew he’d most likely be dead by now if his suit hadn’t been taken out of commission. He might have taken a few aliens down with him, but there had been far too many of them, and their armour, while not impervious to kinetic weaponry, could take quite a bit of abuse before cracking.

He “hung” by the electrically discharging cuffs – or whatever the hell those things really were – in what seemed a completely empty room. It struck Cody as odd that the chamber was so large when there appeared to be nothing in it. Purplish metal floors and walls formed a square room that was maybe twenty by twenty meters, illuminated by a hovering ball of light – which reminded Cody of floating Chinese lanterns, only far brighter – directly above him. The light from the ball, directed down to brighten the chamber, left the ceiling completely dark, making it impossible to tell how high it was up.

Despite being naked, the temperature inside the room was quite agreeable, but he was starting to get impatient for something to happen. He didn’t know how long it had been since he’d awoken, but it was not unlikely that it was close to two hours ago.
He’d tried to figure out where the entryway to the room was, but despite being able to move his head and look in any direction, he did not see anything on the walls that constituted a doorway. He remembered how the doors had been hidden in the walls when he and Raquel had been herded by the aliens into the ship, and if that was how one entered this room as well, he wasn’t going to be able to find any doors with his naked eye.

Remembering Raquel, he wondered where she had been taken. Was she finding herself in a similar situation like him right now? Was she all right? It spoke volumes of his fighting spirit, his desire to still kick back, that he didn’t linger on the thought about the feisty Latina being naked and spread eagle, her tight little body on display and ripe for the plucking.
Testing his bonds got him nowhere. The shackles around his wrists and ankles let him move as much as though his limbs were submerged in concrete. He could shift his upper body somewhat, but the limbs were stuck with no leeway at all.

A dull, electronic humming noise abruptly reverberated through the chamber, the sound like a deep bass in his ears. The sound heralded a flash of crackling brilliance in front of him, making the hairs on his body stand on end. And, standing suddenly in the room with him, the form discharging a few lingering bursts of the teleportation energy, was an alien in a skin-tight white getup.
Cody barely had time to revel over what he had just seen – actual working teleportation technology, something humans had been unable to make safe enough for use – in the face of the woman before him.

It was a tall alien, easily more than two meters, arching horns growing from her temples coming up in front of the forehead, before they swept back, ending in two wicked points above the back of her head. Silken silver tresses had been gathered into a thick braid which hung over her left shoulder down over the left of her pair of very large breasts, and her shining red eyes regarded Cody with something between interest and calm superiority. Her skin was light blue, but only visible on her face, neck and hands, as the rest of her sublimely female body was covered by the skin-tight white outfit.
The suit was glossy and reminded Cody of latex or silicone, and when he called it “skin-tight” he meant it more than anything else he had seen that fit that description in his life; the outfit was so tight he could make out individual muscles beneath it, like the abdominals, quadriceps and deltoids, and the woman’s nipples bulged from inside the material’s insides. The carnal male side of Cody’s mind just knew her ass had to look spectacular in that getup.
The woman also wore a bit of ornamentation, in the form of jet-black rings on both index fingers, and a delicate gold chain hanging over her forehead that was moored in gold metal bands around the base of her horns. A red gemstone of some sort hung in the middle of the chain, above the middle of her eyes.

When the noise of her incredible manner of appearance faded, the chamber felt deathly silent. Cody could only hear his own breathing as he watched in disbelief at the strange woman that suddenly stood in front of him. The alien watched him with a completely neutral expression for a moment, appearing to size him up, her inquisitive red eyes looking him up and down several times.
Just as Cody was about to say something just to break the awkward silence, feeling himself grow less sure of his combat readiness as he looked at the woman, the way she looked at him unsettling him on a primeval level, the alien lifted her hand to belly-height. Opening her hand, palm pointing up, Cody’s eyes widened as a flash of golden light coalesced into some kind of user interface that hovered a few inches above her hand. With her other hand, she tapped at incomprehensible symbols and graphics, operating the light like a touch screen.

With a start, Cody felt himself drift towards the woman, the floating manacles moving him closer, slanting him forwards, until he hung straight up and down – but still with his arms and legs spread – his head less than an arm’s length from her face. Still betraying no emotions, the woman’s partially luminescent eyes shifted from him down to the display above her palm, and, keying another sequence of symbols, made a small green square appear from nowhere, hovering in the air above the light-display. She took the floating, gently rotating square between her index finger and thumb, holding it up between their faces, inspecting it. Seemingly satisfied, eyes on her light-display, she reached around Cody’s neck and, with a sudden push and a painful sting that made him yelp, shoved the square into the base of his neck.

“There,” the woman said. “Now we will be able to converse; your inferior mind will tell you that I am speaking your tongue and that you are still speaking yours. However, it is you who now speaks my language, though your feeble brain will not be able to discern this. To you, you appear to still speak your tongue, and that I do likewise.”

“The hell are you talking about?” Cody said, shaking his anxiety to let his anger, his fighting spirit, return, fuelled by the incredibly sharp pain in his neck.
“Concern yourself not with the technicalities of this; you will not comprehend it were I to explain it to you. Just know that the implant in your neck has embedded itself to your central nervous system and has created a link between your body and this ship.”

“Terrific,” Cody spat. “To what end? Who the fuck are you and why am I here?”
The woman set her red eyes on him, and he felt his confidence wither under their scrutiny.
“You are here because you and a female ran into this ship, or has your memory failed you? If the environment of this vessel is having an effect on your remembrance I would have you tell me.”
“I remember that,” he managed, trying– and failing – not to be discouraged by her gaze. “I mean why am I here, fucking naked, and with you?”

Now, there was a ghost of a smile on the woman’s pouting blue lips, and somehow that was even more disturbing than when she kept her expression neutral.
“The Mistress of this ship, the High Executrix of the strike force currently bringing your feeble world to heel, has gifted you to me as my first human guinea pig. Well, the first human that is unequivocally mine to do with as I please. I have already studied and altered the physiology of a dozen of your kin already, including the female with which you penetrated this ship. As she is now the personal slave of the High Executrix, you are now the property of me, Supreme Technocrat Eyre of the Everlasting Fury.”

 It didn’t sit well with Cody to think about Raquel being the “property” of the head of the alien vessel, but knowing Raquel, she would give this “High Executrix” quite the headache. He hoped she was all right, and presented with a chance to kill her captor soon.
“Introductions are now over, Subject One,” Eyre commented, keying in another sequence on the light-screen floating above her hand.

“Did you just call me ‘Subject One’?” he asked, sounding braver than he felt.
“Indeed, that is what I will be referring to you as,” she murmured as a round cylinder appeared from nowhere above her screen. It looked like soft leather, or of an equivalent material.
“Well that’s not my name, bitch. My name’s–“
Eyre shoved the cylinder into Cody’s mouth, wedging it behind his teeth until the corners of his mouth kept it from going further in. Slim straps appeared from the ends of the cylinder, which rapidly snaked around his head to attach into each other. Tightening, the straps held the gag in place, and would not release until Eyre wished it.

“I do not care what your name is. You are now merely Subject One. Unaltered and pure, perfect for my experiments.” The word “experiments” sent an icy shiver race down Cody’s spine, and then he yelped in surprise when his cuffs repositioned him again. It reclined until he was flat on his back, parallel to the floor, changing his elevation so he was about as high up as the Lead Technocrat’s hips.
Eyre was overjoyed – inside, as she was barely capable of showing such emotions outwardly – to have gotten an unspoilt subject so soon with which to start her research. The Thelluloid Empire was one who thrived on slaves, and most owners preferred their slaves tailored in specific ways to suit their needs. This could be, but not limited to, changing a slave to become bigger and stronger in order to last longer doing hard labour. It could be injecting a slave with regenerator genes to turn the slave into an organ farm, or – and most popular with the ruling classes – alter a slave’s physiology to be able to harvest the slave for his or her gender-specific secretions.

As such, the Axxchin Strike Force was carrying with them millions of commissions for human slaves from wealthy individuals all over the Empire. As far as Eyre knew, nobody wanted a pure, unaltered human, which is why she felt lucky to have been able to snatch one so soon before it, too, had been lumped with the general population of slave stock and altered for their future owner or owners.
To achieve all the demands, the Axxchin Strike Force carried with them an army of Technocrats, masters in bioengineering and xenobiology, the foremost scientific minds of the Thelluloid Empire and individuals whose pursuit for knowledge and perfection was insatiable. And Eyre was their commander.

In fact, the very first human Eyre had personally worked at had been the intended new male for Kyrah, the eccentric mistress of the Goddess’ Hand. Knowing Kyrah’s addiction and how she would want her sole male in her harem of slaves to perform, finding human physiology as easy as anything to alter, she had ensured the male would become a veritable semen-factory once his body adjusted to all the alterations. Kyrah had been overjoyed when she had read the changes Eyre had done to her new milking-stallion. But this one, she thought with another half-smile, looking Subject One up and down once again, was not tampered with. He was 100% human, and since nobody else seemed interested so far to catalogue what an unaltered human’s limits and operations were, it fell to her as a good advocate of xenobiology to do the necessary research.

Naturally, at one point she would need a human female as well, but the male would keep her occupied for a good while. The problem was what to start with. Did she focus on any specific organ to chart their function and tolerances in certain conditions? Did she start by checking how much strain any particular group of muscles could be subjected to before irreparable damage were done to them? Did she start by delving into his mind to discover the human brain’s capacities?
No, actually, taking a page from Kyrah’s book – something she felt like more respectable Thelluloids should, despite Kyrah having issues of her own – Eyre would start by logging what an unaltered human male would go through when having his seed continuously harvested in a reasonably long session.

Six hours, for instance, that seemed like a good place to start.


Tired and battered, the Independent Scandian Assault Regiment had finally received help. They were now supported by the 33rd Baltikum Mechanized and the 1st Combined Avalon Battle Brigade, and were now counterattacking the alien lines in the snow. A hellstorm of rocket batteries and kinetic artillery softened up the technologically superior adversary, their heaviest mechs and armour targeted by the awesome guns of the Avalon’s seaborne vessels far off the shore.
Taking the initiative, ISAR spearheaded the daring counterattack deep into enemy lines, shredding through the foe who did the tactically sound decision to fall back. Casualties on both sides continued to mount, but with the help from the Baltikums’ flanking manoeuvre on ISAR’s south side, as well as the Avalon ships and landing parties hammering into the aliens from the north, the CTDD forces slowly slugged their way through the alien lines, stopping only when it was deemed irresponsible to push on lest they overextend themselves.
Content to have proven to the enemy that the Combined Terran Defence Directorate was nowhere near done defending their home turf, all CTDD forces engaged on the northern flank of the planet consolidated and regrouped, more seaborne reinforcements entering the theatre from other sea sectors.
It was not a victory to have sent the aliens running for the first time since the invasion, but it was a welcome reprieve to the battered forces fighting in the frozen north. Elsewhere on the planet the fighting was not necessarily progressing as well, and the enemy – unchallenged in orbit around the planet – kept pouring more forces into the fight.
Although, the aliens no longer dared to insert their fresh forces right at the front lines, as Terran anti-orbit batteries were now in play, getting quite adept at smiting the descending aliens from their pods as they streaked through the skies.
The first day of the war was winding down, but not by a lot.

Huffing, puffing, eyes rolled back into her skull, unable to tell up from down, Raquel was struggling to recover after the Shix warriors had had their way with her. After all the Shix warriors had had their way with her. It had taken hours, and despite being very generous with lube and spit, all the lubrication in the galaxy couldn’t have kept all of Raquel’s holes from begin sore to the point of actually catching fire.

She was sweating all over, at times losing the connection between her mind and her body, but after a good while after the brutish women had left her alone, awareness was starting to reassert itself in her.
God she felt terrible, like she had been literally torn apart by the large dildos that had repeatedly and pitilessly penetrated her mouth, ass and pussy over and over, the hoots and gleeful shouts of the huge girls accompanying the brutal gang rape reverberating through her mind.
It was hard to move, and not all of that had anything to do with the cuffs still keeping her hands bound behind her back. The shock collar the Shix had loved to use on her still clamped uncomfortably around her neck, but she had gotten used to its presence now. At least it was not shocking her body by directing more currents through her spine anymore.

They had left her on the floor, a figurative pool of herself, sweating and exhausted, spent and violated. As she managed to gain control of her body again and her vision cleared, her breathing through her open mouth calming somewhat, she tried focusing on banishing the pounding she felt in her head, her chest, her loins and her jugulars. Relaxing, breathing, closing her eyes, she slowly felt better, but she felt far from good. She felt like what she was; a discarded fuck-toy for giants.
Somehow, her stinging, still freshly pierced nipples didn’t feel so bad anymore. In fact, she much preferred that sharp ache to the pain currently having dominion over her body. Even her skin felt painful to the touch against the cold floor.

Raquel was a strong woman, twisted in a good way. Though she never condoned anything of the sort, she had joked about rape with her fellow military types, often alluding that if anybody was going to do any raping between her and a made-up man, she would be the perpetrator.
Of course, the real world was a far darker place, one where subjects like rape were deplorable and terrible. Now she was a victim of that most lowly of crimes, but what stung her most was how this treatment was completely acceptable among these aliens. In fact, they had told her repeatedly that she was now a mere fuck-toy for the High Executrix’s amusement, and that they hoped they’d get to “borrow” her many times.

Her captor – this haughty alien cunt calling herself the “High Executrix” – had told Raquel that she was to be given to Zheya’s warriors to “discipline” her for being “disrespectful”. She had said that maybe getting gang raped by these women would make her appreciate being by Zheya’s side instead.
In her gut, Raquel knew she would never stop resisting her captors, but right there, right then, she yearned to be back in her captor’s clutches. Whatever she would do to her, it could not possibly be worse than getting manhandled by a dozen brutish women who were all muscle and carnal desires.
Speak of the devil, possibly literally, the door to the chamber where she had been raped opened, admitting her captor.

Zheya walked in, casually, hands behind her back, ever surrounded by an air of quiet dignity and confidence. “My personal guard much enjoyed my reward to them. The question is, did you enjoy the punishment as much?”
Raquel couldn’t answer. It felt like even her vocal cords hurt from having her throat forcefully fucked so much.

“Sore, are we?” Zheya leered down at her slave, her expression completely indifferent.
She much enjoyed seeing her newest acquisition fucked-out as she was, her skin coated in sweat, her face stained with tears and drool, her body a tired mess and her head a torrent of conflicting emotions.
Again, Raquel didn’t have it in her to respond. She could only grunt feebly.
“On your knees, slave,” Zheya said dryly, expecting compliance. When Raquel did no sign to change her position, she added “Shall I go get a new group of warriors to take you on? Did this lesson in obedience fall short of teaching you anything?”

That, got Raquel moving. Struggling with the terrible weight of her own body, groaning with the effort, she slowly pulled her legs under her, planting her knees and lifting her upper body, eventually coming up to sit back on her heels. Her arms, still bound behind her back, felt ready to fall off, and sitting on her knees on the hard floor didn’t feel comfortable at all.
This spectacle produced a tight-lipped smile from Zheya. “Good. But when you kneel before me, I require that you present your chest properly.”
Raquel didn’t really know what she meant, but did the only thing she could think to do. She straightened her back and pushed out her chest, lifting her head to make sure the alien got a good look of her.

 Zheya smiled wider. “Very good, my slave. Whenever I tell you to ‘assume the position’, this is how I want you. Remember that, for I will not explain it again.”
Raquel did her best to commit that to memory. She was too tired to fight her captor in any way right now.

Zheya took in the vision of her new human slavegirl, her toned, fit body and her large breasts, the new barbells through her nipples sure to still cause her discomfort.
Looking what a mess her personal guard had made of Raquel, it was no wonder she was being so submissive. She doubted it would last, however. Raquel was the sort of slave who would keep giving trouble when she had the strength to do so. Zheya didn’t mind that one bit. In fact, she enjoyed that about certain slaves. To be given excuses to punish and discipline was just great fun, and she would need all the fun she could get between the fighting.

“Come, slave, on your feet. We shall retire to my quarters.”
Only half listening, still trying to calm her breathing, Raquel wobbled to her feet and, at her gesture, fell in behind her captor, following her on shaky legs.

They left the room and headed down a long corridor. Raquel wasn’t paying attention. Her vision was swimming, and the swaying motion of her head as she walked had rekindled her headache with a vengeance. Blurry eyed, fighting the urge to hurl, she simply kept the general form of Zheya in her field of view as she followed like an obedient dog, stumbling like a drunk.
The longer they walked, the better Raquel felt. She was still hurting all over, but standing erect and being in motion cleared her head in short order; just in time to see a door on the wall next to them open.

“In here for a moment,” Zheya said, grabbing Raquel by the collar and pushing her ahead in front of her. Inside the little chamber, Zheya removed the shock collar with but the push of a button, the metal ring collapsing to the purple floor.

“Mistress…” a low drone of a voice spoke, the gruffness of it making Raquel shudder all over.
Looking up, her brown eyes widened at the sight of a male Shix, impossibly even more muscled and bulkier than the women, who were huge themselves. He wore only a loincloth of sorts, displaying the rest of his gargantuan purple body, and despite herself Raquel’s eyes were drawn straight to the bulge in his loincloth that was bigger than her head by a good margin.
The room was this particular male Shix’s chamber, only furnished with a simple bed and a rack for his armour and weapon.

“What is your name, warrior?” the High Executrix demanded. She was by no means a small woman herself, dwarfing Raquel with ease, but she appeared positively tiny before the male Shix. Still she carried herself like she could end this hulking brute’s existence with but a snap of her fingers.
“I am Raon Six Six Nine Eight Two Five,” he said flatly.
Zheya looked down on Raquel who stood next to her, relishing the fear in those eyes that had held nothing but hate when first they met.

“Male Shix are good for only a few things. The chief thing is fighting. Therefore they have no real names. They are simply given the name of their unit and a number to distinguish them from the flock." Raon said nothing, did nothing, didn’t even seem upset that the High Executrix had so brazenly called him close to useless.

“But they have another feature that I find useful.” Her golden eyes found Raon’s grey. With a nod, she had the behemoth remove his loincloth to stand completely naked before them.
Again Raquel’s eyes widened in shock, her mouth falling open now as well. Raon Six Six Nine Eight Two Five’s cock was about as large as a horse’s, and she shuddered to think of how it would feel forcing its way into her. The balls looked like the size of small melons, and the apparent weigh to them seemed more than enough to drag the entire beast down with them.
“I see you are impressed,” Zheya said, half-joking. “As you should be.”
She turned to Raon. “What would you say if I told you to fuck this girl all night? Would you do it? Happily?” Raquel’s heart nearly stopped when she asked that question, and again when the Shix’s dark eyes fixed on her.

“Yessssss…” he hissed, his member already pulsing with anticipation.
“Would you pump her full of your cum repeatedly? Would you fuck her and give her no rest for as long as I’d give her to you?”


Zheya seized Raquel’s chin and turned her towards her. Leaning her face in close, she said, “Before you think to disobey me next time, you should know that whenever I feel like giving you your next punishment, I am going to leave you with Raon for a full night. If you don’t pass out from the brutal fucking, you might very well come close to drowning if he ever decides to shoot his load into your mouth. Which he will. Do you understand me?”

For a moment Raquel was frozen in fear. Eventually, she nodded, her eyes darting between her captor’s gold orbs and Raon’s immense tool.
“Good.” Zheya let go of her chin. “Then let us continue to my chambers. It is high time we spend some time alone in my bed.”

Wednesday, January 13, 2016

V – Obedience

Raquel’s head felt like it was literally spinning, like her brain had entered a centrifuge and was being whirled around without stop. It made her want to throw up, it made her whole body shiver with dizzying discomfort.

As her mind reasserted itself in the waking world, the spinning receded, barely quick enough to keep her from hurling. Coughing and heaving for air, feeling like her soul had been ripped from its moorings and tossed to the wind, her eyes started to flutter open – only to shut again when the clinical, sharp light threatened to spear her eyes right out of their sockets.

Groaning, trying to wrap her head around where she was, discovering she didn’t remember a thing, the plucky mechanic meant to raise her hands up to rub her brow and shield her eyes from the light–

Only to discover she wasn’t able to move her arms.

Confused, Raquel could think of nothing else to do than force her eyes to adjust to the light in order to discover what was going on. Opening them only enough to let a small sliver of light in, she winced as she steadily parted her lids, struggling not to moan against the sharp pain from the light.

When her eyes finally adjusted and she was able to process what she was seeing, she discovered she was looking up at a purplish, metal ceiling with a cluster of spotlights above shining straight down at her.

And she was naked, she realized when she lifted her head to look at herself. Her tan body lay on a smooth, black surface that was solid like metal that felt, strangely, softer than what metal ought to feel like.

Her immobility was explained by the straps binding her in several locations; above and beneath the elbows, over the wrists, over her pelvis – partially covering her Mechanize & Defend tattoo – across her thighs, under her knees and over her ankles. The shiny, latex-like material was pressing down hard on her skin, keeping her from shifting.

Reality reasserted itself with a pang of stressful panic.

She and Cody had, stupidly one might argue, fled into the enemy ship that had boarded the Deimos and somehow become trapped in a gravity-field that had carried them away. Raquel did not recall what had happened after she and Cody had drifted away from each other, but she believed she could draw some reasonable conclusions.

If she wasn’t busy panicking, trying to fight her restraints without as much as an iota of success. Huffing and whimpering, fear overtaking her, it took a few minutes before the Latina earthling calmed sufficiently to try to think rationally.

Her options presented themselves quickly enough; she had none. She was bound tightly, and there was absolutely nothing she could do about it.

Momentarily defeated by her bonds, Raquel took a moment to survey her surroundings. It was a mid-sized chamber with smooth metal walls and floor, the same kind of purple as the ceiling. The walls had markings on them that suggested some kind of drawers that could be extracted when the right command was activated. Behind her, there was a door in the wall, a large sheet of grey metal, quite different from the strange doors she had seen elsewhere aboard the alien ship.

With a shock of dread, Raquel considered the fate of the Deimos and her comrades aboard. She had no idea how long she had been passed out, but considering the state of the ship when she and Cody had fled from it, it stood to reason that the entire ship was overrun by the alien aggressors by now, if not just a scattering of debris drifting through the endless void.

Head flopping back on the surface to which she was bound, Raquel closed her eyes in a moment of silent despair. She hoped as many as possible had managed to get to the escape-pods, or better yet beat back the aliens, but in her gut she knew nothing good had befallen the crew of the Deimos and its complement of fighters.

Sparing a thought to Cody as well, she wondered where he had been taken. The guy was an asshole to be sure, but he was at least a competent fighter. She doubted it, but she hoped he would be able to break free and cause some mayhem on the alien ship.

Her thoughts were interrupted at the pneumatic hissing sound of the door behind her sliding into the wall, spilling more cold light into the room as a figure appeared.

That it was a woman was immediately clear, and that she was far bigger than a human was also instantly evident. She was dressed in a suit of red armour so thin and tight it more resembled latex than any sort of protection; the material was so slight, so form fitting that one could actually make out the jewellery piercing her nipples and her navel, as well as make out the shape of her very large chest, as well as making it simple for anybody to count each individual abdominal muscle through it.

The skin-tight armour, all seemingly one piece, ended in long, slender high-heels that clacked on the metallic floor as she approached, her long locks of purple hair spilling over her shoulders and the upper slopes of her armoured chest.

She had fair, blue skin and intimidating gold eyes with catlike slits for pupils that regarded Raquel with clinical objectivity. From her head sprouted two black horns upon which gold spirals were painted. Slim chains of fine silver hung from three gold rings in either pointy ear, and she was further adorned with an azure circlet with black bands holding a gem between her eyebrows. Apart from her thumbs, her slender fingers, not clad in the suit of armour, were all dressed up in precious rings set with even more precious gems.

In all, the woman made an imposing figure, and coupled with her stern face, it was clear this was an individual to whom command came naturally.

“Glad to see you are up,” the woman muttered as she came to a stop to Raquel’s left. The surface to which Raquel was bound was slightly raised, reaching up to the alien’s shapely hips, and while she was far bigger than any human she had seen, Raquel was mostly surprised that she could understand the alien.

“You speak my language?” was the first thing she thought to say.

The alien snorted. “I think not. You are not aware of it, but you now have an implant in your head that makes you speak my language. We do not go to the trouble of learning adolescent, crude forms of communication.”

“I have an… implant?”

The woman held her hands behind her back as she circled the naked, restrained earthling, looking her up and down with something akin to remote interest. “While you were out we took the liberty of making many changes to your body. You see, since you were audacious enough to enter my ship, I decided to take you for my own slave.”

Raquel didn’t understand, and the fear was returning. “What do you–“

“You heard correct, girl. You are now my slave. That means you are my property. And as my property, I decided to alter your body to my liking. In addition to the cerebral implant that lets you unwittingly speak and understand our noble tongue, I have rid your body for all hair below the neck permanently. I have also made your sensitive areas even more sensitive, and your tolerance for intense stimulation has been increased by more than three-hundred percent.

“In short, you have been altered to better serve as my personal toy.”

Hearing about the things done to her body first fuelled her fear, but Raquel soon turned that fear into rage. Fighting her bonds with renewed strength, still getting nowhere, she started cursing the woman with profanities that would make a drunken Irishman proud.

“If you think I will ever submit to you, you have another thing coming!” she concluded, huffing and panting with effort and anger.

The alien seemed to stifle a smile as she came to a stop by Raquel’s feet. “My, but it has been a long time since anybody spoke like that to me. I suppose it makes little difference to you if I tell you I am the mistress of this ship? Not only this ship, but the commander of the force that is currently bringing your pathetic world to heel?”

“Of fucking course not!” Raquel sneered.

“Such a mouth on you,” the woman muttered, walking around to stand next to Raquel’s head. “I wonder if you will drive me to anger before I have that mouth properly domesticated.”

“Count on it, bitch!”

The alien pursed her lips. “Trust me when I say I have enough patience for the both of us. And believe me when I say I have both all the time and all the resources I need to break you.”

Raquel spat more curses at the woman, sending spittle flying at her smooth armour.

“What is your name, slave?”

“Fuck you!”

The woman arched an eyebrow. “Surely we can be civil enough to trade names? My name is Zheya. What is yours?”

Where Raquel had grown up, giving your rival your name was the absolute minimum curtesy expected between even mortal enemies. While she had no desire to give this woman her name, she decided to at least adhere to the codex she had grown up with.

“Raquel,” she growled.

Zheya did not find the name particularly attractive, but that was of little concern. The earthling did have a wondrously nubile and fit body, and her small stature was an additional turn-on to the Ar’a commander. Her bodily markings – the strange letters on her right shoulder and across her belly, as well as the twirling patterns on her lower back – were features that complemented her body, and her feisty nature was the perfect conclusion to the full package that was Zheya’s first human slave.

“Good, that is a start,” Zheya moved over to the closest wall. “But your name from now on will be ‘slave’ for the most part, I imagine.”

“Call me whatever the fuck you want, cunt, it doesn’t make a difference!”

Zheya looked over her shoulder at the obstinate girl, inwardly delighting in her resistance. Headstrong individuals were far more interesting to break, and the mistress of the Everlasting Fury was by no means afraid to be cruel when punishments were in order.

“We shall see about that, slave.” She reached a hand out to one of the squares in the wall. Touching it, it glowed white for half a second, then the drawer extracted from the wall, presenting a collection of needles, clamps and other small tools for her intended task. Selecting a needle that was suited for someone of Raquel’s size, she walked back to the fit brunette.

“For now, I shall make another alteration to your body that will please me.”

“What are you–“ Raquel started to protest, but her voice failed her when one of Zheya’s large hands grabbed her right tit, giving it an unashamed squeeze.

“I like a girl’s nipples to be pierced. It gives me so many options for whatever I might wish to do.” She grabbed the nipple between her thumb and the second knuckle of her forefinger, pulling it up and exposing the right spot.

Wincing from the woman’s admittedly hard pinch, Raquel’s eyes shrank as she watched the sharp needle, glinting in the light from above, coming closer.

“No! No, what are… No!”

Raquel screamed hard when Zheya set about her business.

Huffing and panting, blinking through the tears of pain, Raquel tried to focus on her rage instead of the pulsing, stinging agony of her freshly pierced nipples, but found that her emotional turmoil came up short when pitted against the bad hurt.

“There we are,” Zheya said with some satisfaction when the black barbells were in place through her first human slave’s nice nipples. “This is just one of many ways in which you will be branded by me.”

“Fuck you!” Raquel cried, redoubling her efforts to break her bonds even though she was quite aware there was nothing she could do to get out of them.

“Behave, slave,” the High Executrix sighed, fetching a purple sphere with two attached bands from the nearby storage units. Pushing the semi-soft orb into the loud slave’s snapping mouth, the bands automatically rushed around the back of her head to meet, securing the gag in place. This did not keep her from trying to spew her inventive phrases. “If you cannot speak in a civilized manner, I desire you not to speak at all.”

Again the little human thrashed in her bonds, swearing at her alien captor despite the fat ball forcing her mouth open.

“My but you are an unruly one,” she commented with mock exasperation just before her mouth contorted into a disturbing grin. “Such slaves are far more amusing to break. They tend to resist more.”

Seeing her nubile little human struggle to get loose from her bonds, hearing her frustrated, angry grunts made the high commander of the Axxcin Strike Force rather wet betwixt her thighs, inside her form-fitting armour that looked far too thin to protect from anything more than a leaf upon a breeze.

Yet the slave’s continued outbursts and lack of respect was something Zheya decided might be well to deal with immediately. While she liked it when slaves resisted, they needed to be reminded of their new role in life, and as such, creative and memorable punishments were in order.

She stood at the head of her new slave, reaching down to let her armour-gloved fingers caress and cup the large – for a human – breasts, flicking her thumbs against the aching nipples to coax the slave to moan more.

While Zheya had a sadistic streak, she never punished without reason. Therefore it was important to let the slaves know when they were being punished, and what for, so that they would not mistake it for just another day as the High Executrix’s plaything.

“Your disrespect and, though somewhat amusing, foul language is not becoming of you, for one of my personal toys. Having already told you to behave did not seem to resonate with your reason, so it appears I must discipline you to keep such behaviour from resurfacing.”

Her response was another livid string of groans and barely coherent cursing. It made Zheya grin even wider.

“My personal guard did a good job of boarding and taking control of your paltry ship. They have deserved a reward.” She walked around the supine human, trailing a hand over her exposed skin, delighting in her new slave’s appearance from top to bottom.

Raquel attempted to make a rude comment about the alien warriors, but the gag did not keep Zheya from understanding.

“I think I will reward them with you for a few hours. Maybe being in the very capable, very rough hands of a dozen Shix will teach you a thing or two about your obstinate behaviour. Maybe being gang-raped by that lot of ever-rowdy women will make you see that you will prefer to be by my side.”

Cursing, huffing, but inwardly terrified, it seemed there was nothing the human mechanic could do. Except be loud and vulgar. And she did that well.

Struggle she did, but it aided her none, as she was dragged by her upper arm through the naked, plain metallic corridors inside the alien ship. Her wrists were bound behind her back with a pair of very uncomfortable metal cuffs, but try as she might she was not able to shake off the blue woman’s single hand gripping her upper arm, which she used to force Raquel to follow.

Her nipples still hurt like hell, and that all her futile attempts to shake loose only made the woman called Zheya smile wider infuriated Raquel more even as her insides threatened to vacate her body when thinking about that the alien might be serious about the gang-rape.

But she was impotent to resist, and before long – which to Raquel felt like a convicted person walking to their death – a section of wall opened next to them, and Zheya shoved Raquel inside.

Tripping from the sudden force, and having nothing available with which to break her fall, Raquel fell on her face on the metal surface, the cold floor like ice on her skin even though the temperature in the ship’s recycled air was quite agreeable – even to her naked form.

There were a series of heavy thumps inside the room, and after shaking off the worst hurt, Raquel peered up at several huge women – larger still than Zheya – with an array of dark purple and blue skin tones snap to attention as Zheya stepped in.

The women – Raquel could make out at least nine – were all in the process of removing their alien power armour, and they seemed to have no shame in the varying degrees of nakedness on display before the High Executrix.

The women, all bulging muscles with strange bodily markings, still retained feminine curves and tits larger than Zheya’s head, and were silent as the grave in front of Zheya and the human that had flopped into their midst.

“My warriors,” Zheya said with some amount of pride before hoisting Raquel up on her feet with one arm grabbing her above the elbow. “You all did yourselves, me, and this ship proud when you so efficiently, so expediently, crushed the human vessel and captured so many slaves for the Empire.”

The tusked women let out a collective roar of approval for their commander, hands still holding weapons or parts of armour raising high as they cheered. Zheya held out her free hand to silence them.

“One of the humans,” she shook Raquel once to indicate whom she meant, “was silly enough to run into the Everlasting Fury in order to escape our squads.”

The women laughed ominously, and Raquel wasn’t sure if she should feel embarrassed or be angrier.

“I have claimed her as my personal slave. Do you like her?” Zheya repositioned to stand behind Raquel, holding her by both shoulders. The human’s head barely made it up to the underside of Zheya’s armoured boobs.

The whistling and vulgar shouts told the High Executrix that they did indeed approve of the little but shapely figure.

“However, she does have a bit of a problem with her attitude. As such she needs punishment.”

At this, the warriors hooted more.

“Her punishment is to be your reward,” she said, lifting her chin high. “Would you soldiers like to fuck my new slave for a couple of hours?”

The women – eleven in total, Raquel was horrified to notice, doubly so when she realized Zheya was indeed serious about what she had said – bellowed anew with approval and excitement, making rude gestures to Raquel as they laughed, warning the slave that they would not be gentle.

“Only one rule,” Zheya said, and the warrior women silenced to hear what the High Executrix was about to say. “No visual marks on her. I want her body to be pristine. Other than that, you may do with her as you wish.”

The women cheered anew, and when Zheya tossed them Raquel – the proverbial lamb for the proverbial slaughter – with a “have fun”. Raquel was immediately grabbed by the closest five massive hands.

Raquel had often used the saying “blank mind” in her life, like when she couldn’t remember something and was “drawing a blank”, but it wasn’t until she had been handed over to the brutish Shix, after time had ceased to have meaning, when she learned just what it meant to have a “blank” mind. In a haze of confusion, fear, pain and forced orgasms, Raquel was no longer aware of where she was, why she was there, or how much time had passed since she had been grabbed by the large hands of…

She wasn’t sure how many of them there were anymore.

The only constants, what even her “blank” mind could still process, was that all of her holes were filled by dildos that were far too large at any given time, probing her mercilessly and brutally.

The Shix warriors – these enormous bundle of female muscle – hooted and bellowed with glee as they passed around the little human girl, like a toy for everyone’s amusement, sliding their strap-on vibrators into any hole that wasn’t currently filled.

Early on during their gang-rape they had attached a painfully tight collar around Raquel’s neck as they whipped her thighs and breasts with an assortment of belts and leashes. Initially the cold steel had only felt chafing and uncomfortable around her neck, but any time she had dared speak up or swear at her captors the device’s true function had been revealed to her. It was what a human would refer to as a shock collar, but it was more than that. While the pain – which the Shix administered generously whenever they felt like their plaything was being just the slightest bit unruly – was reminiscent of electric pain, the agony was so much more than that. As soon as the collar activated, her entire body, from the tip of her toes all they way, seemingly, to the ends of each individual strand of hair on her head, was ravaged by an intense, incomprehensible pain that shocked her deeper than her bones, shocking her very soul, it seemed, hurting her beyond herself.

It hadn’t taken many of those shocks, which her captors only had active for a few seconds but which still felt like ages, for Raquel to stop fighting them. Apparently most of the Shix was disappointed that the fight had ebbed from her so soon, but that disappeared quickly enough as soon as it was their turn to sink their artificial cocks into her tight holes.

Though she was a headstrong woman who had never before taken shit from anybody, she was at the moment being lectured painfully on when it paid to acquiesce.

At the moment Raquel was on her side, her pussy filled by one of the warrior women’s pseudo manhoods who held one of her legs up with a huge hand, thrusting deeply into the mechanic’s wet hole – attributed only to the excessive amounts of lube the Shix coated their dildos with. Another of the huge, purple-skinned women was shoving her dildo into Raquel’s mouth, stretching it, forcing it down her throat and making the usually vigorous Latina tear up as her eyes rolled back in her head. More Shix stood around them, watching the show with expectant glee, stroking their cocks as they awaited their next turn, and their next turn after that.

The strap-ons were roughly shaped like boomerangs, half of it being inserted into the Shix themselves and the other half being what they used to fuck the human senseless with. It appeared these sophisticated fake cocks only vibrated when they were inside of Raquel, and vibrated harder the faster they stroked, spurring her huge captors to hold nothing back, to go hard and fast not only to see their plaything suffer, but to heighten their own pleasure as well.

Raquel was only dimly aware of all of this now, though. Choking on the cock forcing itself down her throat, feeling her nether region burn around the continued intrusion there, she felt the huge tits of the Shix huffing behind her pressing against her back. She gagged again when the throat-fucking Shix thrust harder into her mouth, close to making herself cum.

“Why is nobody fucking her ass?” one of the tusked women in the background asked.

“Yes, fill that hole too!” another one exclaimed. “There’s more of us here who wants to fuck her again!”

Laughing, the Shix fucking her pussy waited until the other one fucking her face had gotten herself off and stepped away. Sliding her dildo out of the panting, sweating human, she rolled them both over onto her back. With the human on top of her, her little head using her tits as pillows, the Shix held the human under her knees and lifted her legs as she spread them. Pushing her vibrator into the human’s already pummelled ass, feeling the tight canal make her toy pleasure her deep inside, she resumed fucking the High Executrix’s delightful slave as she addressed her sisters in arms.

“There we go, two holes are free!”

Two more Shix immediately stepped forwards. One of them straddled the thighs of the Shix fucking Raquel’s asshole. Grabbing the earthling’s shapely hips, she proceeded to penetrate her pussy, making the blank-eyed human groan long and low before the other Shix grabbed a fistful of brown hair to turn her head to the side, where the dildo soon parted her spit-covered lips to fuck her throat once more.

They never stopped. As soon as one Shix was finished with a hole, another one immediately filled it back up. Her nipples were still aching a lot after Zheya had pierced them, something her captors delighted in as they manhandled her boobs and pinched her nipples hard. Anybody who were not actively raping her still got their rocks off by whipping her, vulgarly describing what they would do to her as soon as it was their turn again, rub her clit to force her to cum, and jack their dildos to keep themselves horny and ready for more.

Gagging, coughing and crying, Raquel felt herself slip farther and farther away from herself the longer the gang-rape lasted.