by Ivy Barrett
Ram had known Moxtel for most of his life. They’d attended the same edu-lodges and passed through the same training academy. Ram considered him a close friend as well as coworker, so his troubled expression bothered Ram. “What’s on your mind?”
“May I be blunt, sir?” Like most Yashonty, Moxtel had white hair and lavender eyes that contrasted dramatically with his blue/black skin. Yashonty coloring was basically reversed from the Ventori, who had pale skin and dark hair and eyes. They both had comparable body shapes, tall, lean, well-muscled. But that’s where the similarities ended. Yashonty features were sharp, angular, a truer representation of their savage nature. And they retained a bony plate that encircled the back of their heads from temple to temple. Scientists claimed the ‘corona’ was proof that the Yashonty had once sported horns.
Shaking off the distracting thought, Ram said, “This is just us, Mox. Spit it out.”
“Has this thing between you and the Ventori turned personal?”
Ram stopped walking and faced his friend. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“You seem fixated on the Elizian, or on Kellan Styre. I’m not sure if it’s the ship or its commander, but you’re clearly obsessed.”
“That’s ridiculous.” He waved away the accusation and resumed his trek toward engineering. “We needed a new power source. If we hadn’t been able to convert our systems to crystalline anterite, we would have been required to return to our star system. That would have put us back months, perhaps years. And the largest readily accessible supply of anterite was aboard the Elizian.”
“If it was just the anterite, I’d believe you.” Moxtel fired back, clearly not willing to let the subject drop. “But four of our last six targets involved the Elizian or members of that crew. You’re intentionally pitting yourself against Kellan Styre and I’d like to know why?”
With a guilty shrug, Ram gave in. Moxtel knew him too well for denials. “Styre is the first challenging adversary I’ve encountered in a very long time. I respect him, and that’s rare when it comes to Ventori Defenders. Or their sycophants in the Protectorate. Really can’t stand those Celestians. They’re so sanctimonious. It’s hard to stomach.”
“And how is Styre different?” The challenge in Moxtel’s tone was hard to miss, and defiance smoldered in his lavender eyes. “He’s on their High Command, for Divinity’s sake.”
“Kellan is smart. His strategies are creative. I’ve had to fight hard to stay one step ahead of him. Makes any situation more fun when you’re not certain of the outcome.”
“Which is fine for you, but the men under your command want to finish this mission, so they can begin to rebuild their lives.” Moxtel’s steps lagged, forcing Ram to slow his pace as well. “We’ve all vowed to avenge our dead or join them on the other side. We do not fear death, but most are not running toward it either. You, my friend, are.”
Ram tensed, insulted by the implication. They faced each other again, completely blocking the corridor. “I have taken no unnecessary risks.”
Moxtel folded his arms across his chest, not backing down. “The shields could have been tested on any of their ships, or even one of their outposts. Instead, you flew right toward the Elizian. That was reckless, an unnecessary risk.”
His first instinct was to roll his eyes and walk away. If the criticism had come from anyone but Moxtel, that might well have been Ram’s response. But Moxtel wasn’t a complainer. He was steadfast and loyal. If he felt strongly enough to confront Ram about this, it was serious. “I hadn’t realized. I’ll be more aware when I choose our next target.”
Moxtel nodded, seeming satisfied with the outcome. “While I’m pissing you off, can I introduce another issue you’ll likely find irritating?”
Ram smiled. “Sure. Why not?” He turned and headed down the hallway on his right. “We’re almost there, so you better get right to the point.”
Moxtel cleared his throat before blurting, “Why are we attacking the Protectorate at all? Their goals align with ours. I’m not suggesting we join their ridiculous coalition, but fighting them seems counterproductive to our purpose and ultimate mission.”
“Has the entire crew gone soft on me, or is it just you?” Ram felt his nostrils flare as he fought back anger. The ones he’d lost, and they were many, called out louder with each day that passed and Skarilians still defiled the universe. “The Protectorate abandoned their original goals when they focused on Earth. None of us should be willing to rest as long as even one Skarilian still exists, yet the Ventori are taking mates and establishing colonies. It’s repulsive.”
“I understand your perspective,” Moxtel said carefully. “I also understand theirs. The crew is tired of bloodshed and destruction. The Skarilian are long gone. Most believe they returned to their own dimension with their tails tucked between their legs. Why don’t we join the rest of our people and—”
“And what?” Ram snapped. “Wait around, growing fat and lazy, until the Skarilians return? We vowed to avenge our dead. Has the crew forgotten all we suffered?”
“Of course not. When and if the Skarilians are located every male aboard will be more than ready to do battle with them, but the Protectorate is not our enemy.”
Ram just stared at his lieutenant for a long moment. Did Moxtel speak for the rest of the crew or was this a personal crisis? It had been many weeks since the Skarilians were spotted in this star system. Was it possible the Protectorate had permanently driven them away? Ram disregarded the notion as fast as it occurred. That’s not how the Skarilians worked. They left nothing unfinished. They would be back. The only question was when, and could the Yashonty prevent their first strike rather than reacting to it. Ram refused to let another species pay for the indifference of his crew. They would remain vigilant. Not one more being would fall to the Skarilians if Ram had anything to say about it.
What to do with the Protectorate was a much harder issue to resolve. Moxtel was right. The Ventori and the Yashonty had more in common than in opposition. “Earth is so damn primitive,” Ram pointed out. “The Protectorate ships are the only source available for many of our supplies. We have no choice but to raid them.”
“We could establish trade with them instead. Or find out where they get their supplies. Clearly they’re trading with someone nearby. Their needs are similar to ours, so they can’t get everything they need on Earth.”
“No, just their females,” Ram muttered with a sigh. If the Protectorate hadn’t uncovered the traitor in their midst, Ram and many of his crew would be enjoying their own human females by now. Instead, Minister Zapt was dead, leaving the fledgling rebellion without a recognized leader and the Yashonty with no backup and fewer resources. “This is what I get for trusting a fucking Ventori. I wish to all the Divine that I’d never allowed us to shift our focus from the Skarilians. This mission is simple, locate and destroy. I won’t allow myself to forget again.”
Moxtel started to say something, then shook his head and turned to go.
Ram caught his arm. “You’re on a roll, Mox. Don’t hold back on me now.”
“Females are the root cause of the crew’s discontent. They were promised willing females, maybe even mates. And now they’re being told to get over it and get back to killing.”
“They are soldiers. Killing is what they do,” Ram grumbled, but he understood what Moxtel meant, had been experiencing the frustration himself. Ever since Zapt was arrested and the door to willing females slammed shut in his face, he’d felt restless and irritable.
“We could approach one of Earth’s governments directly,” Moxtel suggested. “Offer them a similar setup to the Protectorate.”
Ram scoffed. “And you say I’m provoking the Protectorate. Stand between the Ventori and their females and we’ll quickly find out why so many races fear the ‘brutal Ventori.’ I’m an annoyance right now. If we start outbidding them for pussy, we become an actual threat.”
Moxtel threw up his hands, obviously exasperated by Ram’s c
ontinued objections. “Then we’re back where we started. The godsdamn men want females. They want them bad enough to challenge you if they must. You need to think seriously about how to provide what we promised them. They will not just let this go!” Without another word, Moxtel stomped off down the hallway.
* * *
Desire so intense it nearly buckled Azra’s knees twisted through his aching body. Erin, his lovely mate, sprawled before him, pussy lips pink from the cruel caress of his flogger, tears streaming down her face. Nothing in his long existence had ever been so beautiful to him. Her misery fed his darkness, easing the endless longing continually gnawing at his soul. He soaked up her energy with helpless greed, savoring its dynamic texture and intensity. He should warn her of his hunger, his need for energy, but she was dealing with so many opposing forces right now. He didn’t want to add to her confusion.
It was an excuse and he knew it. He was afraid of how she’d react once she found out that he was even more of a freak than she thought him now. Energy leech, vampire, incubus, he’d heard all the insults before. He might not have fangs and drink blood, but his existence required the consumption of energy from others, which made him feel like a cannibal.
Erin sobbed and her small round breasts quivered, drawing his attention away from his self-loathing. Liquid arousal gleamed on her delicate folds. She knew what was coming, was dreading the pain, yet anticipating the longing pain unleashed inside her. If he allowed the flogger to kiss her clit another time or two, she’d come, likely screaming from the shame of her surrender.
The link he’d used to guide her dreams was still active. He had not entered her mind since his promise not to, but her emotions still flowed freely into his. Though highly aroused, she was not ready to acknowledge her true nature. Not only was his sweet little Erin submissive, she also needed pain, would never be completely content without it. Convincing her of that fact might take some time, but he could be ruthlessly patient when the situation required it.
Knowing anticipation could be even worse than the sting of the flogger, he made her wait. Instead, he dragged his fingertips along her ribs, his short nails lightly scraping her ivory skin. She squirmed, twisting from side to side as her breathing accelerating. A flash of real fear spiked into his mind, but the emotion was gone nearly as fast as it appeared. He wanted her uncertain, even anxious, but not actually afraid.
“This is cruel,” she cried. “Please finish. I want this over.”
He laughed. “You honestly think this is all I will require of you?”
Her eyes widened and her brow furrowed. “What else could I possibly have done? When I wasn’t unconscious, you were!”
Ignoring the outburst, he pinched one of her sweet pink nipples and then the other, debating what to do next. Flogging her breasts was the obvious choice, and that was the exact reason he hesitated. It was so much more fun to keep her off balance, never knowing what would follow.
She watched him closely, but didn’t make a sound. Her body responded quickly to even his lightest touch. She was oh so ready for his cock, but he wasn’t quite ready to give it to her.
Bored now with the flogger, he returned it to the case containing his implements. Rods and paddles, straps and floggers, even one extremely cruel whip. He had never used it on a female, but Erin didn’t need to know that. His cock had been hard since he opened his bedroom door and found her staring up at him. So he pulled open the deep drawer filled with stimulators and internal trainers. He would prepare her ass for his cock while he enjoyed her pussy. Then he’d prepare her for the evening meal.
Quickly selecting an anal trainer, he slipped it into his pocket without allowing her to see it. Then he gathered his favorite stimulator set and returned to his trembling mate. He knelt beside her on the bed, savoring the spikes of anxiety zinging across their link. She wasn’t afraid of him, just unsure of his next action. He bent over her breasts, sucking hard on one and then the other. She gasped and arched, helpless to resist the painful pleasure. When her nipples tightened into reddened beads, he slipped a stimulator ring around each and tightened them with a mental pulse. The rings slowly contracted, becoming snug bands embracing her hardened nipples.
“Very nice.” He teased the very tip with his thumb. This would keep her nipple hard, until he activated the actual stimulation.
“Is this all they do?” she asked hopefully, starting to relax.
He just smiled and pivoted so he could place the final ring around her clit. He parted her folds with his fingers and prepared her clit with his mouth, then slipped the ring around the ultrasensitive bud much as he’d done with her nipples.
“What do they do?” She squirmed, sounding anxious again. “Is this going to hurt or feel good?”
“Stop worrying about it. They’re for later. It just made sense to place them now.” He released the catch on the wrist restraint cables with a firm mental pulse as he crawled off the side of the bed by her feet. “Turn over and fold your legs under you, ass in the air.”
She tugged on the cuffs and discovered the slack now in the cables. “How did you do that?”
His aching cock was allowing her to get off easy, so he only said, “Face down, ass up.”
“I know. I know,” she mumbled as she turned over and tucked her legs under her body.
He tightened the cables until her arms were out in front of her again, then locked them down. “Spread your legs.”
She did, but he missed the yes, Master that should have accompanied the action.
What he intended to do next wasn’t actually discipline, but it was definitely training and she’d likely feel abused. “I clearly enjoy hurting you, but I prefer not to harm you.”
“How very gallant of you,” she whispered.
He swatted her twice for the sarcasm, but her spirit brought a smile to his lips. “Control your tongue or I will fuck your ass without benefit of preparation.”
“But either way I get a cock up my ass?” Her tone was slightly less defiant, but rebellion shimmered beneath her semi-calm exterior.
“Your body belongs to us now,” he reminded her. “You have three mates and three holes. The outcome seems obvious. Now stay still and try to relax.”
She stopped talking, but her hands fisted and her ass cheeks clenched.
Rather than spank her some more, he caressed her, taking advantage of her sensitized skin. “I can make this hurt quite badly. That seems to be what you’re trying to accomplish. If you surrender, there should be no pain. I might even let you come.” As he spoke, he slid his hands over her warm bottom, teasing the crease with his thumbs while his fingers explored her soft skin. Gradually, the tension eased and her breath released in a ragged sigh. “Much better.”
He twisted the base of the trainer and lubricant beaded all over the tapered plug. Parting her silken cheeks, he rubbed the trainer against her tightly puckered entrance. She squirmed a little, then stilled, clearly holding her breath. “Take a deep breath, Erin. Then slowly let it out.” She obeyed and he pushed inward as she exhaled. Her tight ring gradually spread, reluctantly opening for the trainer. “Very good. Now do it again.” It took three deep breaths to fully insert the trainer, but she cooperated beautifully. “How does that feel? Did I hurt you?” She shook her head, so he rotated the trainer, creating a strange sense of motion inside her tight back passage. “I require verbal responses.”
“No, Master. It didn’t hurt, but if feels very strange.”
“You’ll get used to it, even learn to enjoy it. You’ll enjoy many things you never thought of as pleasurable.”
“If you say so, Master.”
“I do.” Determined to prove his point, he pulled on the trainer, drawing back until the widest part stretched her tight little hole. “Breathe.” He pushed in, allowing her anus to contract around the notched handle again. Over and over, he fucked her with the tapered plug, showing her, with brutal clarity, what he expected of her. “Take it, Erin. Relax that sweet little ass and take this li
ke a good slave.”
The term made her tense, which accented the stretch as he pulled back on the trainer. “Please stop,” she cried. “You’re hurting me.”
“No. You’re hurting yourself. Accept who you are and what this body is for and this will stop hurting.”
“I’m not your slave,” she hissed. “I am no one’s slave.”
“Pain it is.” He smiled, knowing she couldn’t see him. “The choice is yours.”
“Do your worst, you fucking pervert! I don’t give a damn.”
He’d been just about ready to bring her to orgasm with his mouth, then pleasure them both with his cock. Her defiance made that impossible. He pushed the plug back inside her and left it deeply buried. She must submit or life would be difficult indeed. Her responses so far, and her obvious attraction to all three of them, assured Azra that this was simply pride and fear of the unknown. Complete submission was often hard for humans. They were conditioned from childhood to be independent and self-absorbed. Still, the sooner Erin accepted her new role, her new reality, the sooner they would both enjoy their interaction.
Grasping her waist, he pulled her toward him, not stopping until her knees rested at the edge of the mattress. There was little slack in the cable, so her arms were stretched out in front of her and her shoulders were flat on the bed, head turned sharply to one side. This arched her back and tilted her hips up. He quickly stuffed two pillows under her pelvis, then pushed her legs even farther apart. She was supported, yet blatantly displayed and accessible.
Silent and still, she waited. Dread pulsed across their link. Did she think he’d fuck her roughly, maybe even take her virgin ass? Well, that would happen soon enough, but he had something else in mind right now. Oseth and Urrya had both enjoyed her pussy and mouth. It was time for him to even the score. Each mate must come inside her the same number of times or the bonding would be uneven.