by Ruby Dixon
It's…not the best feeling at first. I'm only a little wet, and it feels far, far too tight even with the plas-film and my added slickness. I wasn't expecting paradise, though, so I just take a deep, shuddering breath and wait for it to feel better.
He pushes into me. Or he tries, anyhow. "You're too tight," he hisses after a moment, and I don't know if it's a good hiss or a bad hiss.
I wiggle my ass, trying to flex in a way that will somehow stretch something that hasn't been prepped. At least back at the cantina, they'd give us lube. I should have asked about that here, but I've been far too rattled. "Hang on," I tell him. "I'm not very…wet." I slide my hand underneath us and begin to rub my clit, trying to encourage my body to make some moisture.
Having him deep inside me while I touch myself is magic, though. My throbbing pussy responds, and it's not very long before I give a hard clench around him. I moan, surprised at how quickly I'm slick all over again. Was it the dancing? The fact that he's the object of my fantasies? His piercings and ridges? Whatever it is, I'll take it, because it feels really good.
Above me, he groans. His hands tighten on my hips, holding me in place. "Kef. Do that again."
I just whimper, rubbing my clit harder. Much as I would love to orgasm on command, the more I chase it, the more it's going to elude me. I need to relax, to lose myself in the moment again—
Zakoar growls impatiently and pushes my hand aside. In the next moment, his fingers move over my pussy, searching for the spot I was rubbing. "Where—?" he asks.
With another whimper, I guide his fingers to my clit. He finds it, makes a sound like a grunt of satisfaction, and then begins to rub me himself.
And, okay—he's far too rough with my poor clit. He doesn't know how to pleasure it, or me, his movements frantic with friction. He wants me to clench around his cock again, desperately, but this isn't going to do it. "Soft," I whine. "Soft, soft."
Not that I expect him to listen. But to my surprise, he does. His fingers slow, and he begins a pattern of gentle petting and stroking on my clit, and I clench around his cock, hard. I moan, my fingers digging into the blankets as he thrusts deep, grunting with satisfaction at the slick sound my body makes. "You're wet."
I just moan. He doesn't want an answer, anyhow.
Zakoar pushes deeper, tugging at my hip with one tight hand, and his spur presses against the pucker of my bottom, edging just inside. I make an unholy noise, my toes curling as he begins to slowly fuck me. He presses deep, making sure that his spur pushes into my backside, only to pull almost all the way out again, then surges to the hilt once more. It's like now that he can fit himself fully into me, he's determined to do it over and over again.
And good god, it feels amazing. The way he glides into my now-sloppy-wet body, the way he pushes so deep it's like he's rearranging my organs, the way he holds my hip like he's going to come unglued if he lets go of me, it all does something to me. Add in the fact that he's constantly petting my clit? It doesn't take long before an orgasm starts to build deep inside my belly. I gasp, whimpering under him, my body clenching tight. He responds by thrusting again, pushing deeper, claiming me harder.
When the explosive orgasm hits, it takes my breath away. Every muscle seizes up, my legs tight, my cunt squeezing. I can hear him suck in a breath, and then he's driving into me harder, both his hands locked on my hips now as he pounds into me. I'm so wet that I can hear every thrust as well as feel it, and my entire body feels as if it's being conquered by his driving thrusts. He pounds deep into me, then goes still, and I feel his body tremble against mine.
He lets out a choked sound that's not quite a groan, and I realize he's come. It's hard to tell with the plas-film catching everything; I can't feel his release, but I can tell by the way he shudders and rocks his hips slowly against mine that he's absolutely lost in the moment. I close my eyes and sigh, trying not to wiggle too much against the press of the spur in my backside, because everything feels too sensitive at the moment.
I didn't expect that.
Or, okay…I knew we were going to have sex. I expected THAT part. I just didn't expect to come. I haven't orgasmed with a partner…since I left Earth. Sex hasn't been fun. It hasn't been a joining of two people. It's been me giving and others taking. But what just happened? That was some good dick. Totally unexpected, but good dick.
It's all because he tried to get me off. No one has cared about my pleasure in ages. I'm not even sure HE cares about my pleasure other than it increased his. Whatever it is, I'll take it. Because that felt…marvelous. A smile curves my lips and I can't stop grinning. I'm exhausted, too. The day has been a long one and my emotions have been all over the place. But I feel really good. Maybe Zakoar is going to end up being the hero of my dreams after all—
Zakoar gets off of me, his cock sliding free from my body. He heads to the lavatory, shuts the door, and a moment later, I hear the shower start up.
My good mood dissipates. Now I just feel dirty. Like he couldn't give me a pleasant word or two before scrubbing me off of his skin? I sit up, mildly hurt, and look for a towel to wipe myself clean.
I really need to stop fantasizing, when the world keeps reminding me that everything is shit.
8
ZAKOAR
I take deep breath after deep breath in the shower, trying to focus my scattered thoughts. I can't think straight. All I can think about is that was the best experience of my entire life. That my mind is blown, my eyes opened, and I don't think I will ever be able to stop thinking about it. That she clearly knows I'm not experienced. She had to show me how to touch her, how to make it good for her so my cock would fit inside her snug channel.
Even now, just thinking about how her body felt as she took my length makes me hard as a rock. How my spur dipped into her backside, penetrating her twice. How she writhed underneath me, and how her cunt got slippery with pleasure when I touched that button of hers.
I wonder if it'd be greedy of me to go out and take her again. Just grab her by the hips and pound into her again until my release took over once more. To see if I can get her to make those little squealing noises that made my balls tighten. Of course it feels better when she's enjoying it. Her cunt got slippery and I glided into her instead of forcing my way dry. It felt even better when she squeezed around me, and after that moment, it became my mission to get her wetter, to make her squeeze me like that again.
I made her come, too. For a moment, I thought she'd been faking it. After all, she did joke about crying out my name. But the way her cunt tightened around me so hard and for so long, the noises she made—and the rush of fluid in her already slick cunt—told me the truth.
I definitely want to take her again. She's my slave. I bought her. It should be expected. But…I don't want to be greedy with her. I don't want to hurt her, either. As I pounded into her, I was very aware of just how small and fragile her human body was underneath mine. I glance down and my cock is already hard again. Of course it is. That's the first time it's been inside a female and it wants another go.
I wonder what she'd feel like without the plas-film separating us. Hotter? Wetter? Tighter?
Groaning, I take my cock in hand and begin to stroke it, ignoring the fact that my shower is deliberately cold. The water isn't doing anything to cool my ardor. I want to turn around and rut on the female again. Just grab her from behind so she can't see my ugly face tighten when I come, and plow into her like my keffing life depends on it.
She's a slave. It's my right.
But…I don't want to abuse her. I want her to want me to touch her, as keffing stupid as that sounds. I don't know what to do with her when she's uncertain and scared. When she looked at me with confidence, though, it was like she'd unlocked something inside me.
I think about how she knelt in front of me and put the plas-film on my cock with expert fingers. I think about her comment earlier about taking me in her mouth. I groan again, pumping myself wildly, because now my imagination is going wild.
> Kef me, I'm going to be in this shower for days if I don't stop thinking about sex.
It's just that…I've wanted that female for so long. I felt like a fool buying her, worried I made a mistake. But then she danced and gave me that look and…for a moment, I forgot about all the metal covering me up one side and down the other.
This metal monster made a female come. My hand clenches on the tile and I spurt my release all over the wall, gritting my teeth at the strain of it. That didn't feel nearly as good as coming inside her. I'm probably keffing ruined for masturbating. Great. Another thing ruined, all because I needed a pretty little slave.
Keffing fool that I am.
I rinse my seed off of the tile and then step under the water again, trying to clear my mind. I promised her I'd take her to the Risda system when I got her out of mine. Something tells me that's not going to happen right away. I hope she's prepared to wait, because I thought my need would be slaked after taking her once or twice. Well, I've claimed her once, and now it just feels as if the fires have been stoked.
I'm definitely going to claim her again, I decide. My cock's already stirring once more, as if it's just as greedy as I am. I'll give her a few minutes to catch her breath, and then I'm going to mount her again. Even now, just thinking about her getting on all fours to take me again makes my sac tighten, seed filling it.
I'm a mess. The only thing I can do is work her—and this need—out of my system, though.
I dry off and wrap a towel around my hips. By the time I emerge from the lavatory, my pulse is pounding with the need to touch her again. I think about that button between her thighs. That's a human feature, I think. Mesakkah females don't have that. They—
I pause, because the bed is empty.
"Female?" I call out, heart tripping. Surely she did not run away?
"Mmm?" On the far side of the bed, I hear a mumble. I walk over there and sure enough, the female is curled up on the floor next to the bed. She looks sleepy, her eyes heavy, but as she sits up, her breasts sway and I want to touch her again.
"Why are you on the floor?" My voice sounds harsher, more dismissive than I want it to.
She shrugs, covering her breasts as if hiding herself. "I wasn't sure where you wanted me. Didn't seem right to presume I could sleep on the bed."
"You can sleep on the bed," I point out. I'm not a monster…at least not in that regard. I pause, then add, "I want to take you again."
The female gets to her feet, rubbing her eyes. "Well, I am your slave, remember?"
That is not the enthusiasm I had hoped for. Did I not just pleasure her? Isn't she thankful for that? I frown in her direction. "You have to want it, too."
Her mouth quirks. She pushes her hair back from her face, and it falls in a tangle around her shoulders. "Are you worried I'll tell you no? We agreed I'd be in your bed in exchange for passage to Risda."
I hesitate. I do not want to think about Risda right now. "I don't want to be…greedy. It felt better when you liked it," I admit. "And I liked the sounds you made."
"You know what's a real turn on?" she asks, sauntering toward me in a way that makes my cock stir eagerly.
"What?"
"Using my name. It makes me feel human."
Her words confuse me. "You are always human. Do you want to feel otherwise?"
The female—Esta? Nara?—pokes me in the stomach. "It's a figure of speech. It makes me feel like I'm a person, not just some vessel for you to fuck." She looks up at me. "I know you don't care about my name, but it's important to me. If you care about how I feel, you'll use it instead of just calling me 'female' like Abuar used to."
Comparing me to Abuar is a low blow, and I narrow my eyes at her. Clever female, she knows exactly what she's doing when she says that to me. "Balta," I guess. "That is your name?" It was something soft and pretty.
"Tessa," she reminds me, a hint of a smile curving her lips as she gazes up at me.
"Tessa, then."
Her fingers move up my abdomen, and she cocks her head, glancing up at me. "How do you want me, then?"
"On the bed, same as before." I swallow hard, fascinated by her. I want to stare at her for hours, to watch her subtle movements—even as I want to cover her and just pound into her tight cunt endlessly. I'm obsessed, and it's getting worse by the minute.
"Plas-film?" she asks, tugging at the towel on my hips. I let it slide away, showing her my already-hard cock. "If you're worried I'm unclean, the slavemaster had us medically cleared before sale. And you can't make a human pregnant. It'd be like breeding cats and dogs and hoping they can somehow make a baby."
She keeps talking. Part of me wants to tell her to be silent, to get on all fours so I can rut into her…but I like the sweet curve of her mouth as she speaks. I like the way her eyes show her emotion as she glances up at me. I like the way her fingers glide over my skin and her voice is soft and musical and not what I expected a human to sound like. I thought they'd be…squeakier. Higher pitched. The female—Testa?—sounds different than a mesakkah female, but it's not irritating. It's nice.
And she's telling me I don't need plas-film.
Slowly, I nod. "On the bed, then."
"We could do it face to face," she offers, a hopeful expression in her gaze. "Look at each other while we have sex?"
My jaw clenches and I shake my head. That's the last thing I want. My face is unpleasant enough without the release of sex contorting my expression. I don't want her staring at my mouth, or the large, shining portion of my cranium. I don't want to see her shudder with distaste while I claim her. "Hands and knees."
"You're the boss," she says with a sassy little shrug, and moves to the bed.
I'm on her before she's in position, and her little squeak of surprise just makes me harder. I run my hands over her hips as she raises them in the bed, and touch her between her thighs, looking for that hot spot. She whimpers when I find it, her fingers digging into the blankets, and she lowers her shoulders so her face presses into the blankets. She closes her eyes and her face looks so strained that I pause. "Am I hurting you?"
She shakes her head, almost frantic. "You just…go right for the meal ticket. That's all."
I have no idea what she means. "Should I stop touching you? Does it feel bad?" Experimentally, I slide my fingers up and down her cunt. She's still damp from before, but not like she was. I stroke a finger into her cunt and she moans, fisting the blankets and pulling them to her face. She says something, but it's muffled by the bedding. "What was that?"
The female—Dess?—lifts her head. "I said you're far too good at that," she pants, looking disgruntled.
For some reason, her response makes me want to preen like a strutting idiot. "Am I not supposed to be?" I caress the nub between her thighs and am rewarded with a flex of her cunt around my finger, as if she seeks to latch onto my cock.
"I just…" she pants. "Wasn't…expecting…this." She pushes her hips up, a silent request for more touching, and makes another delicious little sound when I circle her pleasure spot. "Thought we'd just…fuck…you know?" Her face scrunches up again and she lets out an explosive breath of air. "Fuck…you're…fuuuuck." Her hips gyrate against my fingers as I stroke her nub.
I deliberately slow my movements, petting her with even slower touches. "It feels better when you enjoy it. Why would I not want this?"
"Because…you don't even…want my name…"
"Tell me what this little thing is called," I say, caressing the small bead of flesh. "Is it your spur? My spur is not nearly so sensitive." I thought I'd just come out here and sink into her, use her, and find a place for her to sleep tonight, but I'm finding that I like watching her responses. She seems almost…mad…that I am pleasuring her, and that fascinates me. Doesn't she want pleasure out of this? It seems far more sensible to enjoy bedding me if she's going to be doing it for several weeks—perhaps even months.
Even now, that doesn't seem like enough time. I find myself oddly greedy when it comes to this
female.
She whimpers, her eyes squeezed tightly shut. "Zakoar…"
I rub it slower, even though her cunt is sopping with juices. I can feel the effect my touch is having on her, how she trembles with every glide of my fingers around that small button. "Yes?"
"I'll…tell you what it's called…if you say my name…"
"Desta?" I offer.
She kicks at me, pushing my hands away from her cunt.
The movement is so surprising—so bold considering how terrified she was earlier tonight—that I laugh. The human female scowls at me, trying to wriggle away, but I grab her by the hips and pull her back toward me. "Tell me your name again. I will try and remember it if it will please you and make your cunt nice and wet for me." I am having a good time, which is surprising to me given how tense I've been all night. But I'm enjoying her presence. I'm certainly enjoying her body and learning it. I'm also enjoying the bits of sass she's giving me, and it makes me want to encourage it even more. "I thought you wanted me to learn your name."
"I think right now I'd prefer your silence," the female grumbles.
I laugh again. The sound feels rusty from misuse, and it's not something I'm used to. Laughter. Pleasure. I run a hand appreciatively over her backside and she stills underneath me. "Say it for me, one more time," I prompt.
"Tessa. It's Tessa."
A soft, pretty sound. I need to remember that. "Tessa." I taste it on my lips. So much for not bothering to learn her name. I suppose I should, given that she's going to be with me longer than I anticipated. I thought I'd keep her a week or two originally, but now that I have her in bed with me, her luscious backside in the air, her cunt slippery against my fingers as I touch her…two months might not be enough. I'll figure something out. I glide my thumb over the juicy little nub she loves to have rubbed. "Tell me what this is, Tessa."