Suzie and the Alien

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Suzie and the Alien Page 6

by Lili Zander


  The girl on the screen flailed and cursed and screamed. Her hips lurched upwards, begging movement from the dildo within her. “Please,” I whimpered. “Take me. Use me. Own me.”

  The cattle prod swung towards my pussy. The destination was clearly my clitoris, and at this moment, the lust in my brain had completely swamped any common sense. “Will it hurt?” I could hear myself ask. My body just arched towards the cattle prod.

  “It will be intense,” Bob’s voice advised. “But if you take the pain, the dildo and the butt plug will start moving inside you.”

  “I want it,” I replied. My voice was a whisper. My eyes never left the cattle prod. It came closer, closer towards me. I could feel myself part my legs wider in invitation. Whimper with fear. Pant with arousal.

  The stinging pain hit my clitoris, and my body arched into an explosive climax. I screamed, and everything went dark.

  When I came to, both dildos were pumping in and out of my sweat covered body. It felt intense and good. My pussy and ass were stretched around two massive dildos, and I watched the screen as they battered my body. There was something so obscene about the way my holes were gaping as the dildos left me. About the way they almost sucked in the dildos as they pumped into my body. The smell of my arousal was in the air, and I could hear the slick squelching of my juices.

  “Almost done, Suzie,” Bob’s voice was warm. “But before we are done, one more orgasm.”

  A cup swung towards me. A cup like the ones on my breasts, which were gently licking my nipples as I recovered from that earth-shattering moment. It headed for my clitoris and I honestly almost came at that moment, as anticipation ratcheted through me.

  You know how you really wait for something, and then it isn’t as good as you think it’s going to be? Like the new Star Wars or Harry Potter movies? Where all the excitement just kind of gurgles away?

  Yup. Not the case with the cup resting on my pussy. It was even more amazing than I thought it would be. It swiped a tongue on my clitoris. It sucked me firmly. Nerve endings tingled. I moaned and writhed as that cup ate me out, and though I had no frame of reference to compare it to, I would have sworn that there wasn’t a human tongue out there that could have done it better.

  The dildos kept their steady rhythm in and out of me. The cup exerted gentle suction on my engorged clitoris, and I groaned, my muscles clenched, and I shuddered my way to another climax that went on and on and on until I slumped, limp, with absolutely no energy left to even breathe.

  When awareness returned, the ropes holding my wrists together were gone, as were the ropes keeping my legs spread open. The cups on my breasts and clitoris had sadly disappeared. I watched the dildos slide out of my body, and both my pussy and my ass were slow to close back up. On the screen, I could see the holes. They were gaping, wet and open and inviting.

  I moaned in response to that image. I couldn’t wait for tomorrow’s training session. And I wondered what Bob had planned for me later tonight.

  12

  After that marathon, I was completely wrung out. Since I had nothing else to do, I took a nap. When I woke up, I found my way back to the galley where I had eaten breakfast and wished myself a burger with fries. I felt like I’d burned up a million calories on that machine, and I was starving. Then, I wandered into the shower.

  Bob had given me a tour when he’d shown me my quarters. The ship wasn’t large. Aside from my quarters, Bob’s quarters and a third set of quarters, where Larry was currently being held, there was the kitchen (could I even call it a kitchen?), the engine room, my evil medical torture device examination room and a communal shower area.

  Oh, the shower. If I were a poet, I would have been writing odes to that shower. The water pressure was fucking amazing. I’d lived in a bunch of low-rent apartments since I’d moved to Albuquerque, and uniformly, they all had shitty water pressure. This shower? I’d never had such a shower in my life.

  I stripped my robe off and stepped in, sighing with pleasure. There were no knobs and no levers. The water was at the perfect temperature for me – scalding hot. I moaned in ecstasy.

  My mind wandered to the way that warming gel had felt in my ass. The slight initial burn, followed by a blazing heat. My hand reached absently for the showerhead, wondering if the water would feel as good.

  “Ahem.” Bob cleared his throat. I jumped guiltily, caught. The showerhead in my hands, the angle of the water flow, it was obvious I was going to direct that water on my clitoris and shudder my way to an orgasm.

  “Don’t I get any privacy?” I asked, indignantly. Fine, so I wanted to masturbate in the shower. I couldn’t be the only one. I refused to get embarrassed by it.

  “If you want privacy, Suzie, wear your bracelet,” Bob replied. “It’s extremely distracting how horny you are all the time.” His lips twitched as he said it, and I could tell he was teasing me. Or maybe not. His eyes were hot with lust.

  “I’m going to leave you some things,” he said, gesturing to the bundle in his hands. “There’s a picture showing how it all goes together. And use the lotion all over your body. I’ll see you in my quarters when you are ready.” He winked at me and left.

  Well. That was cryptic. I tried to ignore my curiosity and just continue my interrupted masturbation plans with the showerhead, but he’d made it impossible. The bundle was on the counter, and I couldn’t wait to see what was in it.

  The shower turned off, and air jets came on, drying my body instantly. Damn you, Bob, I cursed in my head. I had been looking forward to that jet of water on my clitoris.

  You know that scene in Return of the Jedi? Where Princess Leia is in the golden bikini, chained to Jabba the Hutt? What was in the package was the equivalent of that golden bikini.

  I rubbed the lotion all over my body as I contemplated the outfit Bob had set out for me. It smelled divine, like spring flowers with a hint of musk and incense. It felt like sweetness, with a carnal need underneath. My lips twitched, as I wondered if that was how Bob saw me. Little innocent virgin defiled by the alien. Truth be told, the virginity had been more a matter of circumstance than intent. I’d spent most of my time the last five years since my escape from Aunt Mary’s nuthouse commune trying desperately to keep my head above water. When I needed relief, it was porn and my fingers. I think that had been why Larry had seemed so glamorous. I had never been on a date in my life. Being wined and dined by a handsome doctor had seemed so much a part of someone else’s life that I’d been blinded to what an asshole Larry really was.

  The lotion started to tingle and warm on my skin, and I giggled. It felt really nice. My fingers reached down to my pussy, and I rubbed some lotion into it, and groaned as the warming tingles began to heat my sex. And then, daringly, I scooped some lotion, and rubbed it into my asshole. Hey. Bob had two dicks. Like the Scouts, I was being prepared.

  When I was done with the lotion, I pulled the outfit out and examined the picture.

  There were two bangles that were designed to go on my wrists, with chains connecting them to rings that slid over my fingers. I put on the bangles, and then pushed the rings on my fingers. The chains made a melodious chiming noise as I slid them on. Then, anklets, with a similar chain connecting them to toe-rings, which I placed on my feet.

  With each piece of jewelry I put on, I felt more and more like the harem slave of some sheik, and my insides clenched as I contemplated what Bob had in store for me. Not hard sex. Something more involved, given the complicated jewelry.

  I pinched my nipples, rolling them between my fingers, before sliding on the nipple shields. These were made of some kind of golden metal that was hot to the touch, and I groaned as that heat transferred itself to my breasts. Finally, I looked at the last piece in the package.

  It was golden in color. I touched it, and automatically, I drew my fingers back as if they’d been scalded. They hadn’t, but the fabric wasn’t fabric. It was metal. A fluid metal, hot to the touch. I pulled it out carefully, shook it out and slid into it. Two
rectangles of the metal, with two chains connecting the two ends. The design wasn’t rocket science then. This was a glorified loin cloth. More and more, I felt like Princess Leia.

  I took a deep breath. It was almost 1800. I was due in Bob’s quarters.

  13

  The door swung open as I walked up, and I entered, clearing my throat as a warning. Bob was standing in the doorway.

  “Very nice, Suzie,” he said, his gaze sliding all over me. His eyes glinted, and I swallowed. I couldn’t really understand this state of near-constant lust I was in when he was around. I fingered my bracelet, glad that that thought was hidden, though from the knowing look in his eyes, I probably wasn’t subtle at all about my arousal.

  I took a step inside and stopped, awestruck. The inside of Bob’s quarters was like some kind of Bedouin fantasy. Rugs on the floor, a massive four-poster bed in the middle, piled high with cushions. Fabric draped in soft folds from the walls, puddled on the floor. A smell of jasmine and incense in the air. I could hardly believe I was on a spaceship.

  “How?” I sputtered.

  Bob laughed. “I’ll show you how to do it to your quarters,” he said. “Same principle as the food. Whatever you can imagine.”

  Ah. There was a lot more to this technology than I’d realized.

  “So, what you imagine is a harem?” I asked him. I wore the bracelet, so he couldn’t read my thoughts. But I was fantasizing about him being a cruel slave lord, training me to do his bidding. I would get whipped if I disobeyed and pleasured if I was good. I swallowed the dryness in my throat.

  His lips twitched. “Another rich fantasy of yours, Suzie?” he asked dryly. “But yes, to answer your question, I find the lush depravity in some parts of your planet quite intriguing.”

  He had something in his hands. I hadn’t noticed earlier. “Come here,” he ordered. “Lift your hair out of the way.” He showed me the band in his hands. A golden collar, for my neck, with large diamond stones set all around. Yup. I was having my own Return of the Jedi moment here. He clasped it on, and pointed to a cushion set on the floor, in front of a low table. “Sit,” he ordered. “Have you eaten?”

  “I made myself a burger earlier,” I said. I was too nervous to eat, unsure of what he had planned for me, and uncertain about whether I was allowed to ask. I sank down on the cushion, and he followed suit, sitting opposite me. The table had a bottle on it. “Champagne,” he said, in response to my unasked question. “I’m a trader. There’s a large market all throughout the galaxy for champagne and chocolate.”

  “It can’t be manufactured by the machine you have in the kitchen?” I asked him.

  He shrugged. “You can try,” he said. “But most people find they can’t quite imagine champagne or chocolate correctly. Something about the taste defies description, and their efforts pale before the real thing.”

  He poured the champagne and handed me a glass. “To a satisfactory journey,” he said, his eyes glinting again. I took it, and as his hands grazed mine, a heat filled me. The metal chains on my hand tinkled softly as I took a sip of the champagne. A nervous kind of arousal spiked through me. Bob was unpredictable. He could be kind, or he could strap me to that machine, and I didn’t know which version I preferred.

  “Should I take off my bracelet?” I asked him. I’d worn it as armor, but I was also supposed to serve him for four hours.

  He shook his head. “Keep it on,” he said. “It’s more fun when I don’t know exactly what you are thinking. When the only clues are in the way your body responds.”

  Well fuck. Arousal shimmered through me at those words, spoken in a voice so filled with potential danger. I gazed at him. My nipples had hardened, and with the nipple shields I had on, it wasn’t possible to hide that reaction.

  “Let’s just drink our champagne for a bit,” he instructed me.

  “Am I allowed to talk?” I asked him.

  He looked puzzled. “Of course, Suzie,” he said. “In fact, talking is encouraged, unless you get specific instructions otherwise. I’m on a spaceship by myself a lot. Your company is appreciated.”

  Ah. I could see that. It had to be a lonely life. I mean, I thought I had it bad. No close friends or family, but I at least had casual interaction with the customers of the diner to keep me from complete isolation.

  I said all that and watched him shake his head. “There’s a lot of frequent stops,” he said. “A lot of worlds I visit often. Worlds where I have friends. It isn’t that pitiable an existence.”

  I kept my expression neutral, but I didn’t think he was telling the truth. More than that. I didn’t think he actually realized how lonely he actually was. But hey, what did I know? It was only my second day on the ship. I wasn’t about to contradict him.

  Instead, I touched my collar, still a little awed at the size of the diamonds studding it. “Are you very wealthy?” I asked him. “This is incredibly valuable.”

  “On your world,” he said dryly. “There are worlds in the universe where diamonds are as plentiful as seashells on a beach. Worlds where gold is completely worthless because of how soft it is, and where what is truly prized is iron.”

  “What makes one wealthy then?” I asked.

  He smiled, pleased at the question. “Think it through,” he instructed. “If everything you want is freely obtainable somewhere, what is wealth?”

  I furrowed my brow. “The ability to go everywhere?” I guessed.

  He nodded. “Exactly. Ships are for the wealthy. Fuel to power the ships is expensive. And there’s one other item that is rare in the galaxy.”

  “What other item?” I heard something in his tone that made me ask.

  “Well,” Bob said, and I could hear an edge in his voice. “Emotions are valuable.”

  There was something in his tone. Something he wasn’t telling me. “Elaborate,” I told him, giving him my best stare, the one I reserved for drunk men who frequented the all-night diner where I worked.

  He was immune to the look, though his lips twitched. “I was going to tell you soon enough,” he said. He handed me a glass with a golden liquid sparkling in it. It was slightly thinner than honey. I sniffed it suspiciously. It smelled like nothing I had ever smelled before in my life. It smelled like an invitation.

  “Drink,” he instructed me with a smile, and I looked into his eyes and downed the drink. At once, a strange languor possessed me, and my insides heated. Muscles clenched. My nipples hardened, and my pussy dripped. I wanted to tear off my loin cloth and push myself down on Bob’s twin cocks.

  “What the hell?” I swore at him, trying to keep my arousal at bay. “What did I drink?”

  “Your emotions from this morning’s training session.” His voice was level. “This particular drink was from the moment when your clitoris was being licked.”

  I blushed. I remembered how wanton I had felt then. How I had arched my back and parted my legs wider so that the dildos pumped in my pussy and my ass deeper. “So, like Viagra?” I asked.

  He laughed. “A crude way of describing it. There’s more to your emotions than simple arousal. There’s sexual fear. Where you are afraid, but also turned on. There’s sexual pain. Where you welcome each stroke of a whip. There’s sexual curiosity. Lust is a broad umbrella of things.” He sipped his champagne. “You are somewhat rare in that you feel these emotions very strongly, and your emotions can be bottled and sold.”

  “Oh.” I didn’t understand, and it was obvious from my tone.

  “If you are interested, you can sell these emotions,” he said. “Build a nest egg of sorts. Perhaps a college fund, for when you return to your world.”

  I’d never even dreamed of going to college. I couldn’t often find money for food and rent. What was the point of wishing for a better life? But now, Bob was saying that these things were within my reach. If I reached out and grabbed it.

  “Is it like porn? Am I going to become some galaxy-wide porn star?”

  He shook his head, and I could see him try to h
old back the laughter. “Suzie. On many worlds, watching you would be as attractive as watching two chickens have sex. Emotions translate. Images do not.”

  “How can emotions be so rare?”

  “Maybe one in a hundred people in your world let themselves feel this way, so it isn’t all that rare. You aren’t going to become massively wealthy. But you have something that is difficult to find. You balance perfectly at the edge of fear and arousal, pain and pleasure. You can use this to make you some money.”

  Well that stung. I had kind of been hoping I was one in a million, or something. I flushed at my pique, and was thankful, not for the first time that evening that my bracelet was firmly around my wrist, and Bob couldn’t read my thoughts.

  “Is that why you are training me?” I asked him.

  His eyes gleamed. “Oh no. I’m training you because I find it immensely pleasurable. And so do you.”

  I took a sip of my champagne to calm my nerves. My heart was beating in my chest. I didn’t know what he had in store for me, but the potion of arousal I’d drunk had filled me with heat, and I wanted whatever he offered. All the pain. All the pleasure. Every little bit.

  He smiled at me. “Sometimes, Suzie, what you want is so loud and clear, the bracelet is completely unnecessary.” He eyed me. “Get on the bed,” he said. “Spread your legs for me.”

  I obeyed silently. The blood was pounding in my veins, and my pussy was throbbing in need. My loin cloth was useless in hiding my arousal. I was dripping wet, and the stain on the cushion proved it.

  “Wider,” he ordered, as I spread my legs. He nudged my hips up and placed a couple of cushions under them. “Nice. Now, Suzie, I wonder if you’ve discovered all the features of this metal skirt you are wearing.”

  He tugged it off me and rolled it into a tight roll. His eyes gleamed as he moved it toward my pussy, and I bit my lip as I waited, legs parted for the feel of cold metal inside my body.

 

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