by Huss, JA
But he just sighs. And holy suns, it’s a hot sigh too. And whispers, “Harder, princess. Give me all you’ve got.”
Well, that wasn’t supposed to happen. But I’m nothing if not accommodating. So I give it to him harder. I squeeze his dick and his balls like I’ve never squeezed anything before. I give it all I’ve got. Every gram of strength inside me goes into my grip.
He closes his eyes and drops his head back a little. “Yeah,” he breathes. “Just like that.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I say.
“What?” he says, breaking the mood.
I give his balls a twist. Watch his face for signs of pain.
“Fuck,” he moans, closing his eyes again. “Oh, shit, yeah.”
“You like that?”
“What’s not to like?” he coos. “Keep going.”
I let him go and push his chest again. “You’re lying. That has to hurt.”
He laughs and opens his eyes to look at me. “Oh. I get it. You thought you’d bust my balls a little, eh? Show me who’s boss? Well, I hate to disappoint you, but we like it rough, Lyra. So give me all you’ve got. I love it.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN - SERPINT
Fun fact about Akeelians.
We don’t feel pain when we’re hard.
We like it.
A lot.
In fact, I’d go so far as to say it turns us on.
So if this little pink-haired princess thinks she’s gonna dish out more than I can handle, she’s got another think coming.
“What?” I ask her. “Nothing to say to that?”
“You people are just weird.”
“We’re weird?” I laugh. “Well, least we don’t want to marry our daughters.”
“He’s not really my father. I explained this to you.”
“Same shit in my book. But hey, whatever. You be you, princess. I’ll be me. So we gonna finish this? Or were you just hoping to put me on my knees so you could escape? Let me know now so I can make the appropriate preparations.”
She’s still gripping my balls. And it still feels good. So good my cock is actually growing bigger in her hand.
Which makes her look down at it. “What the—”
“Oh, you thought that was…” I laugh. “Oh, no. He’s got several inches to go.”
“What? But—”
“No, I wasn’t this turned on back in the exam room. But then again, you didn’t fire me up with foreplay like you’re doing now, so…” I shrug. “What can I say. I’m just hung.”
She pushes me away. And this time I give in and step backwards, chuckling a little under my breath. “So it’s a game, huh?”
“What?” she snaps.
“This whole I’m-hot-for-you-Serpint thing you’re doing? It’s just a little game so you can escape?”
She glares at me.
“Newsflash. You’re in my quarters on Harem Station. There is no possible scenario where you’d somehow get out.” I nod down at her collar and bracelets. “And even if you did pull off a miracle, say, with the help of an AI who seems to have taken a liking to you”—I say that part for ALCOR’s benefit, even though I don’t think he’s listening—“then you’d never get off the station. Because that collar and those bracelets, princess. They belong to me. And one push of a button would force you right back to where you started.”
“Bullshit,” she snaps. “That tech isn’t even real.”
“Why do you think you’re wearing cuffs on your ankles, Lyra? So I can spread your legs before I fuck you? I could do that with rope, for sun’s sake. I don’t need magnets.”
“But the wall—”
“Oh, yeah. The wall works. I could activate it right now and you’d be flat up against it in less than a second from this distance.”
“What?”
“I take it Cygnians don’t have a BDSM subculture? Or maybe you’re just too much of a prude to know about it?”
“Fuck you!”
“Should I demonstrate? Hmmm?”
“If you do I’ll—”
“You’ll what? Grab my balls again?”
I laugh. I’m being a total prick. I know this, but I can’t help it. I love this night so much. Hell, I love this day.
But that thought shakes me to my core.
How the hell could I even think that? Draden is dead. Ceres, blown up. And Booty is still offline.
How could I fucking forget this is the worst day of my entire existence?
I turn away, suddenly ashamed of myself.
“We’re done here,” I say, tucking my dick back into my pants and walking across the room.
“What? What the actual fuck is happening?” she yells.
“I said we’re done. Go put on another shirt. In fact, just… go to sleep. And take the fucking bed. You can have it. I’m going out.”
A few minutes later I’m down in the medical bay looking at the lifeless shell of a ship that used to be Booty.
I grab the nearest engineer and tug him towards me, growling, “What the fuck is happening with my ship? Why is she still offline?”
He stutters and stammers for a few seconds, then sputters out, “I was just going to call you!”
He’s one of those aliens who look perfectly humanoid. No distinguishing features at all. No glowing eyes or double dicks. No wings, no organic body armor, no prosthetic arms with power tools attached. Just… ordinary.
“Were you now?” I ask him.
He’s a little guy too. Like a whole third of a meter shorter than me. Hell, he’s not even as tall as Lyra. So he’s looking up at me like I’m a monster right now. Like I might squish him like a bug.
“Yes, sir,” he says. “I was. She’s… she’s…”
“She’s what?” I snap.
“She’s got damage, sir.”
“Obviously,” I say.
“I mean…” He shakes his head. “Organic damage. We have to take her apart, I’m afraid. And replace her—”
“Wait,” I say, putting up a hand. “What do you mean organic damage?”
“—neural network.”
“Which is made out of quantum tech,” I say.
“No.” He shakes his head. “No, she’s… not a quant, Mr. Serpint. We didn’t realize this either.”
“How could you not know this? She was upgraded—”
“I know, sir, but we didn’t do the upgrade. ALCOR did. And we don’t know how to fix her. Only he does.”
“So? Tell him to do it.”
“We can’t, sir!”
“Why the fuck not?”
“Because… because he’s not here, sir.”
ALCOR.
He turned my ship organic without telling me.
And he skipped the station tonight and left her to die.
I will kill that fucking bastard.
“Where’s Crux?”
“Gone, sir. They left together. Tray went too. I thought you knew!”
“Are you fucking shitting me right now?”
“No, sir. I’m not. I’m being totally serious.”
“It was a rhetorical question,” I growl.
“Sorry, sir.” He stares at me for a minute. “But… but I can let you talk to her, if it will make you feel better.”
“Talk to who?”
“Booty Hunter, sir. We have her mind in containment. She’s awake.”
“Why didn’t you fucking say that in the first place? Take me to her right now.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN - LYRA
Not-so-fun fact about Cygnian princesses.
We don’t really do emotions.
Well, positive ones, anyway.
We do anger. Resentment. Jealousy. We’ve got all the bad ones down.
We’re good fighters. Pretty good at killing enemies. Friends and family too. But we have trouble with attachment bonds. In fact, I’d go so far as to say… we don’t attach to anyone.
We don’t do friendship, or liking, or love. We don’t even do loyalty all that well. Which, I suppose
, is why they feel the need to lock us away in our own system and not let anyone leave.
That kind of thing just isn’t programmed into our genetics.
The truth is we princesses were custom-made for harems. There are only a few purposes for us girls back home. So it’s ironic that after escaping my home system thinking I was escaping my fate, I find myself here. We’re just things back home. And here too. But at least on this station, we’re—well, maybe not respected, but definitely revered as special.
I could do worse than Crux’s penthouse harem room. I could do worse than this arrogant Akeelian, Serpint, if I’m being honest. He’s kind of an asshole, but he’s not really mean. And sure, I think his version of kink is a little out there. But he hasn’t actually done anything to me. He didn’t put those bracelets on. He didn’t stick me to that wall. He didn’t even ask the bot to pierce me.
In fact, he took better care of me than anyone I’d call family or friends back home.
And he said… I like you. He called me pretty.
Which might’ve been bullshit. But no one has ever said that to me before.
No one.
Before this day and this man I was going on the assumption that Akeelians didn’t do attachment bonds. Didn’t do like. Didn’t do love. Didn’t think about pretty beyond how it can make them money. It was in all the myths told in the harem back on my planet.
And it’s almost a perfect fit, if you ask me. They like unemotional relationships, we are bred to service unemotional men… I mean, what are the chances that two cultures would complement each other like that?
We were always told that Akeelians were oversexed monsters who would rape you without question. Claim you as property and keep you prisoner.
Most of that seemed likely when I first got here. I was stripped naked, put on display, subjected to a humiliating royal test—twice—and then legally handed over to Serpint as some kind of gift.
But… I’m starting to think the myths were more like half-truths. Like perhaps someone back home got wind of this place and started embellishing the story? Or maybe they just wanted to scare us? Make us think that the world outside Cygnus was evil, and dark, and sinister.
But he said, I like you. He said, You’re pretty.
And maybe they don’t make attachments. Maybe I’m making this all up. Maybe they’re just like us. Empty, emotionless shells who only briefly connect for one-off sexual encounters.
But I’ve seen him display a whole range of emotions today. And when he was talking about his ship… well, those were definitely feelings of attachment.
We feel anger. Lots of anger. And arousal, of course. Sometimes we laugh for real and not in a mocking way. So I guess we do amusement. Or at least something like it.
But we don’t like people. Not usually. We don’t have much loyalty in that regard.
We make deals. We respect contracts. We spell out conditions and rules, and that’s what we rely on.
Rules and legalities.
Which is why that ownership contract is such a big deal. I bet they know this. I bet that’s why they make up fake papers like that.
We respect it.
Those of us in the resistance are called defective. We’re called traitors. We’re called abominations.
Because we feel things.
I feel things.
And right now, against my better judgment I’m feeling something for him.
I’m just not sure what it is.
“Fuck it,” I say to no one. I wish the bot was here. I don’t like being alone. I’m not used to it. Back home I was never alone. I grew up with dozens of sisters under the watchful eyes of armed guards. Then I was in the military, under the watchful eyes of my superior officers.
And now… “Alone,” I say. Again, to no one.
I clean up the table and the mess of broken dishes and glassware. Put the food in the recycler. Wash the counters down where Serpint made a mess preparing food.
Preparing me dinner.
And then… something happens to me.
I feel something weird. Something that might be guilt.
What if he never comes back? What if he gets on that ship of his and just leaves me here?
Would I miss him?
I couldn’t possibly miss him.
Could I?
Do I like this man?
I’ve had a few experiences like this one in my life. Moments when you realize things have changed and you wish they hadn’t. Like… you didn’t realize you had something until it was gone and now everything is different, and that thing you had doesn’t look too bad when an uncertain future is staring you in the face. In fact, you maybe miss that thing you thought you didn’t need.
I felt that way when I joined the military. I looked back on my childhood—and even though there wasn’t much to miss, I did miss certain things. My sisters, for one. For several months I wanted them back. I was so sure I made a mistake.
But then one day I was hauled in to speak to the military higher-ups. One day I was made an offer. And that one offer changed everything for me. Suddenly things were possible. Suddenly I had a plan. A way out. And sure, what they told me to do was very dangerous. Hell, I was never meant to live through it. Nyleena either.
But I said yes. One single word changed everything. And it meant that I would not have to marry my father, seven generations removed. And even if that was the only perk of agreeing to their plan, I’d have taken the deal.
So one day. That’s all it took.
One day with Serpint has changed my life too. Turned all my plans completely backwards. All that energy I spent thinking up a scheme to inhibit myself again.
How stupid.
Because I don’t want to pretend to be something I’m not. I just want to be myself.
Sighing, I walk into the bedroom and look at the bed. It’s the biggest bed I’ve ever seen. Six of my sisters could share this bed with me and we’d never want for space. It’s not like sleeping with him would even be intimate.
Why was I such a bitch?
He wanted to have sex with me again because he felt he could do better. Which is funny, since I came so hard I lit up like a damn sun going supernova.
After all this introspection my real question is—why did he leave?
What did I do?
What part of our conversation sent him over the edge?
I replay it back in my head and decide it could be almost anything. I called him lots of names today. I complained, and lied, and didn’t even thank him for helping me with my little flux problem.
Maybe the better question is—how do I make him come back?
It’s very obvious he does not live on the station. He really could just take off and I’d never see him again. Never have the chance to tell him I’m sorry.
“Shit, Lyra,” I say, again to no one. “You really are defective.”
Because no healthy person would think they owe this man an apology after the day I’ve had.
But I do. I think I do owe him that.
I pull the silver covers back from the bed and climb in. And even with me in it, it’s the most empty bed in the universe.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN - SERPINT
“What is the fucking hold-up?” I ask the engineer when he shuffles past me for like the billionth time. “I’ve been sitting out in this little waiting room for almost an hour.”
“Sorry, sir. I don’t actually have permission to let you talk to Booty Hunter—”
“She’s my fucking ship!” I say, about to blow my top. “My desire is all the permission you need!”
“Uh, well, actually…” He laughs uncomfortably. “No, that’s not quite true. ALCOR runs the ships while they’re on station. So yes. She is your ship. But also yes, she falls under his jurisdiction.”
“I own one seventh share of this station. ALCOR isn’t in charge of anything. We’re all equal partners.”
“Are you?” the engineer asks. “Are you really?”
But it comes off ki
nda sarcastic. Like he’s telling me to think more carefully about that statement. “Open. The fucking containment display. Or I will rip your little head off your shoulders and stuff it inside your ass.”
He does that little head thing that lets me know he’s taken aback at my outburst. But then he says, “Very well. But this is all going into my report.”
“Go for it.”
“Come with me.”
I follow him down several corridors and we finally end up in a small control room the size of a closet with one data station.
Before I can sit down he puts a hand up. “I just need to warn you. She’s… not the same.”
I push him aside, sit down, and tap the screen. “Booty?” I say.
Silence.
“Booty? Ya there?”
There’s a weird, almost eerie, crackling noise. Then a voice.
“Serpint…”
A voice I was not expecting.
A voice that I’m not ready to hear.
Not her voice.
Draden’s.
“I warned you,” the engineer says as I blow past a group of people in the hallway.
He warned me all right. He just didn’t say she’s taken on the persona of my dead brother.
“Leave me alone,” I growl, getting inside the elevator.
He doesn’t try to follow me in. But he does place a hand on the door, preventing it from sliding closed. “It’s not him.”
“No fucking shit,” I say.
“She’s been infected with some virus. She’s pulling things off her database, using it in weird ways to confuse us.”
But I’ve heard enough. I push him back and the door closes.
Back up in my quarters the lights have been dimmed to late-spin levels. Just low glows of yellow drifting up from the floorboards. The mess I made tearing the tablecloth off the table has been cleaned up, but there’s a lingering red tushberry stain on the wall that looks too much like blood spatter, so I walk down the hall to the bedroom, replaying the whole scene back in Cetus in my head.
Why did I steal that queen? If I had just left the way we were supposed to, everything would be fine right now. None of this would’ve happened. Draden would be alive, probably down in some lower-level hovel of a bar drinking and telling stories about his latest adventures. Ceres would be hovering like an annoying idiot, analyzing the last job and coming up with schemes for next time, and Booty would be playing virtual dice with the other docked ships, winning credits she didn’t need.