by Huss, JA
“I’m pretty sure you’re not going to like that.”
“Like what? What now?”
His little grippy-hand appendage points to the collar and then I think he shakes his head and make a chirp that sounds a little too much like a tsk-ing tongue. If he had a head and a tongue and wasn’t just a floating blob, that is.
I look down, trying to get a glimpse of what I’m not gonna like. But all I see is a faint green glow emanating up from my neck. “What is that? Are those letters? Does this collar say something? What’s it say?”
“It says,” the commanding voice of Serpint booms from the hallway, “‘Serving Serpint.’”
“Serving… you mother-sunning bastard. What the hell is wrong with you? You had him pierce my pussy!”
“Oh.” Serpint laughs.
“That’s not funny! It fucking hurt!”
“Well, it kinda is, princess. Because I really…” He laughs again. “I didn’t tell him to do that.”
“What?” I look at the bot.
It chirps out protests. Something about syllabi, and scenarios, and standard Serpint procedures.
“You little shit! I don’t want to hear your excuses! I told you not to touch me!”
“Well, that’s interesting,” Serpint says. “You can understand that thing?”
I scoff at his insult. “The 700 Series was built to entertain three-year-olds, you arrogant prick. Of course I can understand him!”
Which makes Serpint tilt his head. “Not where I come from.”
Ooops. Ha. I forgot. Most children outside the Cygnian System don’t grow up with a palace filled with nanny bots.
“I’m just saying it’s an easy language.”
“Hmmm,” he says, rubbing the stubble on his chin.
Shit. Change of subject time, Lyra. Before he starts to put two and two together and realize what you’re really up to here. So I say, “I see you decided to put on clothes while I was being tortured. Might I have some as well?”
He stalks forward towards me. Deep violet eyes blazing. He stops just centimeters from my face and looks down at me from his superior height.
I don’t want to look up. I do not want to meet his gaze and get lost in those stupid violet eyes.
But I can’t help myself.
I sigh and get lost. That’s how galactically beautiful these Akeelians are. “Don’t look at me that way.”
He just stares. And growls. God, I’ve heard of those growls. I’ve heard all kinds of stories about Akeelians growing up. But I thought they were mostly myths. Not until I arrived here at Harem Station this morning did I even consider that all the rumors might be true.
But they are.
Akeelians are an all-male race. There is no female in their species. They mate with other races and then the girl babies take on the race of the mother and the boy babies take on the race of the father. Which is Akeelian. Hence, all Akeelians are male. With those crazy-beautiful eyes, and two extra-long, extra-hard, extra-thick cocks. And a deep growl that has been known to send women into a sexually-induced trance state.
They are like something out of an erotic fairy tale.
If I ever get out of here and manage to find a way to save Nyleena and go through with my plan to get us where we’re going, I will be famous. And once they hear about me back home, all my hundreds of princess cousins will die of jealousy over my adventures on Harem Station.
But right now none of that is looking likely because I’m pretty sure this asshole knows I’m lying about something.
“What?” I snap. “Why are you looking at me that way?”
Serpint reaches up, brushing his fingers down my cheek. He looks at his fingertips, rubbing them together. “What the hell is this?”
“What’s what?” I ask, feigning ignorance. Because I just remembered… I was crying.
“Something pink.”
“It’s makeup, you simpleton.” I add in an exaggerated eye roll for good measure, praying to the sun gods he buys my lie.
He growls again.
“Stop doing that!”
But he just continues and for sun’s sake, I think the rumors are true. Because a deep-rooted throbbing begins in my lower belly and pulses out… “Ow. Oh, shit! That hurts!”
Never mind. Erotic excitement over. I double over a little, as far as I can with the bindings, and try to force my upper thighs together because the throbbing is really pain from my newly pierced pussy.
He sighs. “I have something for that.”
“For what?”
“The pain. I really didn’t tell him to do that.”
The bot protests again but I spin my head to look at him and say, “You shut up about the stupid standard procedures! He just said he didn’t, OK? You fucked up. Be a big bot and just own it, for sun’s sake!”
When I look back at Serpint he’s fishing through one of those skinny drawers that produced my newly acquired sexual jewelry and I catch him smirking.
“It’s not funny. I’ve been mutilated.”
“Oh, come on. It’s not that bad. And this’ll help.” He turns around and walks towards me holding up a little metallic tube. “If you don’t mind.”
“If I don’t mind what?”
“Well, you don’t seem to have the use of your hands right now, princess.” He exaggerates that word, like he’s not sure which part of my lie is a lie and he wants me to know that. “So I’ll have to apply it for you.”
And then he grins.
“Or,” I say, thoroughly disgusted at his innuendo, “you could just release me and let me apply it myself.”
“Where’s the fun in that?”
“In my hands,” I say with fake sweetness. “Instead of yours.”
“Exactly.” He squirts a bead of purple goo out onto his fingertip and smiles. “So… do you want the pain relief or not?” I open my mouth to speak but he says, “Shhh. Before you answer, just know that I will be touching you later. So think hard about this before you make a decision. There’ll be consequences.”
“Pervert.”
“Oh, I won’t touch you with my hands, princess. Unless you beg me to.”
“Asshole.”
“Allow me to demonstrate.” And then he pinches the air with his thumb and forefinger and spreads them wide. A display appears, lit up with a control panel. “Which one should I try first? Hmmm?”
“What are you talking about?”
But he must make up his mind because he taps the display and my nipples begin to vibrate. And while I might admit this could be pleasurable had my nipples not just been pierced by a deranged nanny bot, it is not pleasurable now.
“Ow!”
“See,” he says, the vibration fading. “And believe me, that was the low setting. It only gets better from there.”
“Better?” I snap. “You’re insane. You’re an insane, barbaric, two-cocked jerk!”
“One drop of this on those tender spots, princess, and it heals like magic. By tonight all the discomfort will be forgotten. The pleasure from the nipple rings will blow. Your. Mind.” He bobs his eyebrows up and down at me as he grins. “So decide. Pain? Or pleasure?”
I hesitate. Because if he touches me I will probably glow again. And I don’t want to give him that privilege. I don’t want him to think I’m… into this. Because I’m not. I’m so not. Not to mention my inhibitor is already beginning to fail. If I don’t recharge it soon it will stop working completely. And then he’ll know I’m real. He’ll start asking questions. Or do a galactic facial recognition search using my real identifying features.
And once that little secret is out, there’s no hope of saving Nyleena and completing our mission. Well, not really completing it. We had no intention of completing it. But the other mission, the one where we get where we’re really going—there’ll be no hope for that.
But if he is going to keep me here, and do these things… wouldn’t it be better if it felt good instead of terrible?
God. I’m rationalizing! Why am I trying to ration
alize this? I’m the insane one! I’ve lost my mind. I’ve been blinded by the erotic myths. And the two cocks. And the… the… “Stop staring at me with those stupid eyes of yours!”
“Last chance. I’ve got shit to do. And I don’t care either way.”
“What… what shit to do?”
“Yes or no?” he says. “My ship came in with damage and I need to go see her and make sure she’s OK.”
“Her?” I laugh. “Your ship is a woman?”
“All ships are women, don’t you know anything?”
I almost say, Well, our ships are not female. But I catch myself just in time. Because I think I’ve heard that before. That male ships are dangerous, or something. And no one gives a ship a male personality except us. Cygnians.
“And this one,” Serpint continues, “is much more than just a woman or a ship. She’s sentient and she’s my partner.” He sighs, looks away for a moment, then adds, “The only one I have left. So make up your fucking mind. I need to go.”
There is an abrupt change in his demeanor with the mention of this woman-ship. Something sad, or maybe even worse than sad. Something gravely serious is happening in the moment and I get caught up in it. Start to wonder about it.
He reads that hesitation as a no and caps the tube, shoves it in his pocket, and walks away.
“Hey!” I call. “Wait!”
“Too late,” he calls as he enters the elevator.
“But—”
“Bye, princess. Enjoy what’s coming. And just know… I’ll be watching you the whole time.”
“What’s that mean?”
But the elevator door begins to close.
“Hey! Stop! Wait! Can I come too?”
I could totally scrape some palladium off the hull of his ship!
But the last thing I hear from Serpint is the sound of a sad laugh echoing though the closing doors as he disappears.
A data screen flows out from my collar. Wavy lines and images materialize and resolve in front of my face.
“What in the name of two-cocked assholes is this?”
“Your tasks for today, princess,” the bot says.
“What? What tasks? I’m bound to a fucking—” And just as the last word leaves my mouth, I fall to the floor. Magnetic bindings released.
I lie there in a lump of exhaustion for a few seconds, then turn over and find the bot hovering above me on the other side of the new data screen.
“You better get started,” he says. “Serpint is known for his extensive task lists.”
“Like you’d know.” I snort. “Have you even worked for him before?”
“Princess, please. I’m deeply sorry for the misunderstanding—”
“Misunderstanding?” I snarl. “You pierced me! Three times!” But that’s when I notice what’s happening on the data screen. “Oh, hey. What’s that countdown for?”
There’s an icon of a bedroom. Which makes me roll my eyes. If that alpha-jerk thinks I’ll be waiting for him in his bedroom when he gets back, he’s sadly mistaken. But next to the bedroom icon is a little clock counting down from ten.
“Hurry up,” the bot says. “You’re running out of time!”
“Time for—”
And that’s when the vibrations start. Deep down in my belly, like before, but not only there. The bracelets and anklets are pulsating too. It’s not the same as the last time. It’s still painful, but that’s mostly because of the piercings, not the output settings.
In fact, if I wasn’t so sore it would be undeniably pleasurable.
Damn. I wish I had that analgesic cream. Then I might get some satisfaction out of this whole miserable experience.
I try to block out the pain as the vibrating builds, both in oscillations and intensity, thinking maybe… maybe I can handle this. Maybe I can still enjoy it a little. Because I can feel the glow building inside me. Eager to escape after all these months of being locked inside. Eager for a real release after so many dull disappointments.
There’s a noise now. Kinda low and thrummy. But it begins to build, the tone getting higher and higher with each passing second. It’s something familiar. Like a charge… like something charging…
Oh. Shit.
And then the counter ends at zero and the data display flashes a bright red right in my face.
I realize—too late—what he’s doing.
And in that same moment the charge finds its final level of intensity and releases.
The shock hits my entire body. The bracelets and anklets send signals up to the collar, which sends signals down to my nipples and pussy rings, which reverberate back up to the collar, and back out to my wrists and ankles.
My entire body bucks up in a spasm of erotic climax.
And this time when I glow… it is spectacular.
CHAPTER SEVEN - SERPINT
I close up the data display, Lyra’s list of tasks complete, just as the elevator doors open onto my docking bay level.
And what is the first thing I see?
Booty.
Still tethered in the vacuum of hard space outside the motherfucking airlock.
“What the hell is this?” I snarl at the closest attendant. “Why the hell isn’t she in a medical bay?”
“Oh, I’m sorry, sir,” the woman says. “We’re waiting on one to become available.”
“Available?” I ask with mocking disbelief. “There is no waiting for my ship. Get her hauled into medical or I’ll have your fucking job and you’ll spend the rest of your servitude here scrubbing the decaying interior of old bots!”
Her collar tells me who she is, who she works for—Crux—and how long she has left on her sentence. Which is a lot of spins. Either she’s a brainless fuck-up and has had spins added as punishment… or she’s new here.
I try to calm down. Give her the benefit of the doubt and be a little understanding of her new situation. But I’m not sure I accomplish that because the next thing out of my mouth is…
“What are you fucking waiting for? Find her a sun-damned medical bay!”
She opens her mouth, squeaks out, “Ye-ye-yes, sir. Right away, sir,” then stops and sputters again. “Buuut… but which ship should I kick out of a bay, sir?”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake. I’ll handle it myself.”
I turn back to the elevator, get back in, and go up to the penthouse to find Crux. I could, theoretically, kick out any ship I want to get Booty the attention she deserves. But I’ve been gone for a long time and I have no clue what Crux is doing that has things so backed up.
Better to err on the side of respect and caution than fuck up his plans.
He’d do the same for me. And if there’s one thing the seven of us—six of us, now—realize, it’s that we have to stick together at all costs.
Alone we are nothing. We all know that. But together we are this. We are a team. We are Harem Station.
The elevator doors open to the harem room. I step out and look around, searching for Crux.
“ALCOR,” I say.
“Welcome back, Serpint. You look… better.”
“Liar,” I mutter. “Where’s Crux? I need to talk to him about Booty.”
“He’s in the cryogenic lab. I was actually just going to intrude on you for help about that.”
“About what?”
“He’s refusing to thaw out the new princess.”
“Corla?” I ask. “The one we brought in?”
The one who caused Draden’s death, is what I really mean. Crux has had a thing for this princess for ages. I cannot remember a time when he wasn’t talking about her, or looking for her, or cursing her name.
But it was always while we were drunk. So no one cared, really. The ramblings of a man on whiskey.
So when I was passing through Cetus on my way back from a too-long trip to Hydra—that ended up being a bust and the biggest waste of time in my life—and heard that the mythical Princess Corla was on the station where we stopped, already neatly packed up in a cryo-capsule… well.
You don’t just pass up that kind of booty.
We took her.
And Draden died in the process. A stream of plasma coming from a dark hallway. Slicing across his neck and cutting through his guts. Ceres took the next hit. Blown into millions of pieces.
I was already maneuvering the princess’s cryo-capsule into the storage slot when I looked out Booty’s side window and saw the whole thing in real time.
Booty took over, closing the hatch. Less than a picosecond to determine there was no sense in delaying our departure since our two partners were undoubtedly damaged beyond repair.
Then she took the brunt of the battle. A fucking SEAR cannon wiping out most of her personality systems and a few other backup circuits—like auto-pilot—as we flew out of range and entered the nearby gate.
How the hell did that pitiful little station in Cetus get a hold of a goddamned SEAR cannon?
I was too busy piloting a dying ship to think of the princess again until I had to contact Harem to let them know I was coming home with losses.
And even through the audible grief in Crux’s voice and the sadness on his face as he stared back at me from the high-res communication monitor, I could feel his excitement.
Princess Corla was real. And I not only had her, I was bringing her to him.
I think I hate that bitch.
Turning the corner I spot Crux inside the cryogenic bay, staring down at the capsule.
What the fuck?
I palm my hand past the biometric security, and enter when the door opens.
“She’s still frozen?” I ask, a little too much residual anger in my voice. “For sun-fuck’s sake. Why haven’t you thawed her out? You’ve been pining over this dumb bitch for as long as I can remember.”
He doesn’t lift his head, just slides his eyes in my direction. Staring at me from underneath a curl of dark hair. Shoots me a look of…
“What?” I snarl. “She’s the whole fucking reason—”
“No one told you to steal her for me, Serpint. That was all you.”
“Yeah, well.” I huff out a laugh. “Maybe I got sick of your fucking whining all these years? Maybe I just wanted to shut you up for once. Maybe I just wanted to bring home the one thing…”
But I don’t have in me to keep going. So I just stop talking.