Enslaved for Their Use

by Ivy Barrett

  “Gods of Creation, this feels good.” Moxtel reached under her legs and grabbed her hips, increasing his tempo gradually until he slammed into her with a fast, deep rhythm.

  Belton sped his rubbing as well. “He told you to come.” When she didn’t immediately obey, he switched to a plucking sort of pinch that left her no choice. She came in dizzying spasms, her inner walls rippling around Moxtel’s surging cock.

  Moxtel cried out and thrust one last time. He clenched his teeth and shuddered as he released his seed deep inside her. His cum hit her inner walls, and Lorna gasped. The warm splash turned rapidly to smoldering heat, spreading through her insides like a wildfire. She came again, the spasms harder and more prolonged than her first climax. She’d hoped she’d imagined it before, but there was no denying what she’d just felt. Yashonty seed was a powerful aphrodisiac. Despite her back-to-back orgasms, she was ready to go again.

  He slowly pulled out, and her eyes widened as his cum leaked from her pussy, rolling down into the valley between her ass cheeks. Birth control pills, even condoms, were hard to find on Earth. Most males, it didn’t seem to matter which species, wanted females to produce offspring. So contraceptives became contraband. “Are you sure you can’t get me pregnant?”

  Her masters exchanged displeased looks, but Belton said, “It’s impossible. Your kind is not genetically compatible with us.” The question had clearly upset him, so she wasn’t surprised when he took Moxtel’s place and casually shoved his cock into her pussy. And the shadows were back in his eyes, even darker than before. “Body-slaves are for fucking.” It sounded like he was reminding himself as much as repaying her for the insensitive question.

  “I think you hurt his feelings,” Moxtel told her as he moved to her side. “You came so beautifully for me. Now you’re going to do it all over again.” He took both her nipples and twisted them between his thumbs and forefingers. “Come for your other master. Do it now.”

  Pain shot through her chest and made her clit twitch, but her conflicted emotions kept her orgasm out of reach. She moaned, pressing her lips together. The restraints held her firmly. The only response she could offer was the intentional tightening of her inner muscles.

  “Do not hold back,” Moxtel ordered. “Surrender to the pain.” He pinched her again and again, while Belton fucked her ruthlessly.

  It was brutal and dark. She didn’t want to crave these sorts of pleasures, but her body reveled in every stinging twist and forceful penetration. She stared into Moxtel’s brooding face, then switched to Belton. He’d dropped his head back, his chest heaving as he pounded into her. She came suddenly, the spasms so intense she screamed.

  “Fuck, her cunt is strong,” Belton ground out between clenched teeth, then he drove his entire length into her core and came in hot, rhythmic spurts.

  As before, a second orgasm was triggered by her master’s seed. She cried out, shuddering helplessly as her body greedily absorbed the potent fluid.

  The sensual haze had yet to clear when she heard Moxtel say, “Turn her over. Let’s fuck her tight little ass. You can go first this time.”

  She gasped, her gaze flying to Moxtel. He glared down at her, arms crossed over his chest. “How did you learn our language?” His tone left no room for denials.

  Belton shook his head as he pulled out of her cum-soaked pussy. “What are you talking about?”

  “Our deceitful body-slave can understand every word we say,” Moxtel told him, not bothering to switch to Ventori. “I think she’s a Ventori spy.”

  Fear spiked through Lorna. How the hell had he figured it out? She’d been so careful.

  Belton moved to her other side, clearly angered by the revelation. “Is that true? Don’t you dare lie to me.” He also spoke Yashonty, his gaze boring into hers.

  She glanced at Moxtel, then looked back at Belton. “I didn’t set out to deceive you, Sir. The translator nano-bots learned your language much faster than I was told they would.” She didn’t attempt to speak Yashonty. She was still struggling with Ventori.

  “Meaning you didn’t expect to understand us as quickly as you did, but you had no intention of telling us either,” Belton concluded, his voice sharp and cold. As usual, she saw a flicker of pain surrounded by the anger in his gaze.

  Rather than respond to the accusation, she looked at Moxtel. “I am not a Ventori spy. If the Protectorate had been of any use to us, I would not be here.”

  “How did an ordinary human end up with ‘translator nano-bots’? If I’m not mistaken, that is Ventori technology?” Moxtel challenged her.

  She swallowed and blinked several times before attempting to defend herself. “I told you my name for a reason, Master. Did you verify any of my claims?”

  The Ventori had managed to archive Earth’s internet before the devastation obliterated the planetary network. And one of Ram’s spies had given the Yashonty access to the Ventori database. The Protectorate quickly discovered the hack, but the Ventori was pretty sure the rebels had uploaded a wealth of information about the Protectorate and their human allies. A few quick searches should have told Moxtel all he needed to know. But had he been interested enough to research her?

  “Your family had wealth and political connections before the Skarilians attacked,” he said, confirming her hope that he’d checked into her past. “As with most humans, you’re merely struggling to survive now.”

  Not wanting him to know how much the reminder hurt, she lowered her gaze. He was right. The Mortensons used to be rich and important, but the downward spiral had begun long before the Skarilians attacked. “Much of the money is gone, but we still have political connections. My sister works for the Department of Alien Affairs. Most of the decisions directly affecting other species are made by that department. That’s also where I got the translator.”

  “You’re here to gather information,” Belton joined in. “That much is obvious. How are we to know that the Ventori won’t attack as soon as we’ve located Brianne?”

  She lifted her gaze and looked at Belton, trying to appear as helpless and hopeful as possible. “Have you found her? Did the hunters admit to taking her?”

  Moxtel pinched her already tender nipple, dragging a startled cry from her throat. “As I said when you asked me, we might have rewarded an obedient body-slave with information. A Ventori spy deserves only punishment.”

  “I am not a fucking spy, and you are not my master!” She cringed as the words left her mouth. What the hell was wrong with her? Pissing him off was counterproductive and incredibly stupid. “I’m sorry. I spoke without thinking.”

  Heaving an exasperated sigh, Moxtel looked at Belton. “This is the second time she has thrown that in my face. Will you please explain the situation more clearly?”

  Belton nodded. “Release my slave,” he said to the computer and the restraints retracted. He grasped her upper arms and dragged her off the table, then drew her to the balls of her feet. Their faces nearly touched. “Unless I say otherwise, we are both your masters. You will obey my cousin as quickly and completely as you obey me. Your body is his to discipline and enjoy in any way he chooses as often as he wants. Do you understand me?”

  Her teeth were tightly clenched, so she nodded.

  “I require a verbal response,” Belton insisted, purple eyes gleaming.

  “Yes, Sir.” The words were so begrudging, they sounded painful. She glanced at Moxtel and found amusement gleaming in his gaze. He was enjoying this! Anger washed over her all over again. The fucking bastard thought it was funny.

  “I told her to call me Master and you Sir,” he informed Belton. “It’s less confusing.”

  Belton rolled his eyes. “And that’s the only reason?”

  Moxtel’s smirk was completely unrepentant. “You’re not comfortable with the title, and I am.”

  “Fine.” Belton pushed her back. Nothing about this appeared to amuse him. “So what should we do with our deceitful little spy?”

  “Sir, please. I am not a sp
y,” she said passionately, yet respectfully.

  “On your knees,” Belton ordered.

  They’d both just emptied their balls. Why did he want her kneeling?

  When she hesitated too long, Belton fisted the back of her hair and pulled her down. She landed hard on her knees and gasped. “What are you going to do to me?” Good God, was this where she got a pulse blast to the back of her head?

  “I know it’s against your code,” Belton said to Moxtel, “but we need to know one way or the other.”

  Whatever enjoyment Moxtel had found in the situation vanished with those words. “I’ve never scanned a human. I might damage her.”

  Scanned? As in psychic mind-reading shit? She shifted her gaze between the two males as tension wound around them.

  “If you hurt her, you’ll sense it,” Belton argued, his hand still tangled in her hair. “Would you rather whip it out of her?” He shook his head. “Don’t answer that.”

  “Fine.” Moxtel stomped over to her and took her face between his hands. “The chances of my harming you will lessen if you don’t resist. Can you promise not to fight me or should we find a way to distract you?”

  “Can you please kiss me? That worked wonders before.”

  After a tense pause, Moxtel leaned down and kissed her mouth. His lips were firm and demanding, his tongue surging deep without hesitation. This wasn’t about comfort as it had been before. It was about control. He was dominating her, demanding her surrender despite her fear.

  She instinctively brought her hands behind her back and sighed when Belton took the hint. She didn’t understand her need to surrender control, but they obviously did. Belton pulled her arms even farther back, holding her wrists in one firm fist as he moved his other hand to her throat. She relaxed, letting her mind empty as her senses came alive.

  Moxtel stroked her breasts as he deepened the kiss, and her core began to ache. She whimpered. Her libido had always rebounded quickly, but this was ridiculous. She was still tender and sticky from both of them, and already her greedy pussy wanted more.

  Open, sweet slave. Let your master touch you.

  Moxtel’s commanding tone was already so familiar, it took her a second to realize she hadn’t heard his voice. It came from inside her mind.

  She tensed for a moment, then obeyed. Her muscles relaxed, and she sagged into Belton’s waiting arms. He released her wrists but maintained his hold on her throat as his brawny arm wrapped around her middle. Something warm and tingly brushed against her mind. She lost herself in Moxtel’s kiss and remained open, surrendered. The heat intensified, spreading for just a moment then it was gone.

  He pulled away slowly, and the tingling went with him. No, the tingling had been him. How strange.

  “She’s no spy,” Moxtel decided as he straightened his back. “Everything she said is true. This is about Brianne.”

  “She still deceived us,” Belton said firmly.

  “And she washed away our scent mark without permission,” Moxtel reminded him. “Obviously, she must be disciplined. So, what did you have in mind?”

  Belton sighed and stepped away from her as well. “Your bare hand was not enough to motivate correct behavior, so it’s time to escalate. Use a strap or paddle. The choice is yours.”

  Lorna tensed. Were they serious?

  “I suspect we’ll need her again before morning so, I will use a strap,” Moxtel said without hesitation.

  Belton’s expression hardened as he added, “Make sure she feels it. Before this night is through, our rebellious little human must have no doubt who is in control.”

  Chapter Four

  Belton stood with his hands clasped behind his back, watching silently as Moxtel disciplined their female. Their slave. Belton shuddered. Regardless of how objectionable he found the concept, Lorna was their body-slave. If he hadn’t claimed her, someone else would have, and chances were good that they would not have been patient with or helpful to her. Moxtel was in the best position to influence Ram, and only Ram could release a slave. Belton’s heart lurched at the thought. Had he meant Brianne or Lorna? He was not nearly ready to consider giving up Lorna, so he must have meant Brianne.

  Still, it was wrong to force their will on Lorna, to... Were they forcing her? Her body certainly had no objection to giving them comfort. Even the pain they inflicted seemed to heighten her pleasure. But she had no choice, could not refuse them. It didn’t matter if she came so hard she screamed. She was a slave, and slavery was an abomination.

  Shame washed over him, regret and memories. He knew what it was like to have no choice in anything that was done to him, to suffer unspeakable tortures if he resisted or disobeyed. But this was discipline, not torture. Moxtel knew what he was doing. He wouldn’t harm her. The same could not be said about the Skarilians.

  Forcing the memories back into the past where they belonged, he thought about his odd reaction to their captive human. Lorna appealed to him in a way he’d never experienced before, but she couldn’t give him what he wanted most. He and Moxtel had made a vow that someday, somehow, they would find a life-bringer and convince her to choose them as her providers and protectors. It was every Yashonty male’s dream, but they were more determined than most.

  Lorna was spirited and smart, beautiful and fascinating, but she could not bring forth Yashonty life, so comfort-giver was the highest position she could ever attain. The fundamental roles of males and females were the foundation of Yashonty society.

  So why did the limitation bother him so badly?

  She knelt on a padded shelf and bent over a spanking bench, rounded ass in the air. The full ivory curves were perfectly positioned to receive the stinging slaps of Moxtel’s synth-leather strap. Unlike earlier when they enjoyed her warm pussy, Moxtel had chosen not to restrain her. She had assumed the position of her own free will, submitting to the punishment without force or coercion. That eased Belton’s conscience a little, but they’d see how long it lasted.

  “Can you transform the cross into anything you want?” She tossed her red-gold hair out of her eyes so she could look back at them.

  Gods, she was beautiful. Miraculously, he felt his cock starting to harden even though his cum was still drying on her inner thighs. Moxtel had warned him that human females could be addictive. Lorna was proving him right.

  “The size of the room limits the options, but yes,” Moxtel told her as he swung the strap to test its weight and reach before using it on her vulnerable backside.

  “The only sounds coming out of your mouth should be gasps and screams,” Belton told her, annoyed that he still wanted her so badly.

  “Yes, Sir,” she whispered, but he detected a hint of rebellion in the words. He’d told her to be silent, so technically she’d just disobeyed. He looked at Moxtel, but he was fighting even harder not to laugh.

  We should not be amused by her disrespect. Now that they knew she could understand their language, telepathy was their only option. Moxtel had taught Belton how to speak mind to mind in their youth so they could plot mischief without their parents realizing what they were doing. The skill came in handy in many situations. She will never submit unless you take this seriously.

  Moxtel’s smile vanished. I take everything seriously. I just find her refreshing. He set the strap aside and picked up his favorite implement, a multi-strand whip made out of soft synth-leather. Suede floggers, they were called on Earth. And Moxtel used his with such skill that he never failed to make a female come while wielding it. He swung the flogger with a careful snap of his wrist. She gasped and wiggled, hands clenching around the handles, toes curling.

  “You do not have permission to come,” Moxtel told her.

  “Yes, Master.” She sounded disappointed. This wouldn’t be much of a punishment if she came over and over.

  She quickly adjusted to the predictable swish of the flogger, so Moxtel switched to a circular motion that sent the falls dancing across her ass and the backs of her thighs. She yelped and shivered, her pa
le skin quickly turning pink. This was a tease, a warmup, preparing her for the sharper sting of the strap.

  Her aroused scent grew stronger, seeping through the smell of their cum. She’s enjoying this too much. Switch to the strap.

  Moxtel paused and glared at him. You asked me to discipline her. Have you changed your mind?

  No. Belton walked in front of her so he could see her face, but she had lowered her head and was hiding behind her hair again. If he made her look up, it would strain her neck, so he went down on one knee. Moxtel swung the strap for the first time. Her body tensed and she cried out sharply, assuring Belton that his cousin meant business.

  Turning her head toward him, he brushed her hair back from her face. “Look at me.” Her lids fluttered then slowly lifted as Moxtel swung again. She cried out but kept her eyes open even as tears gathered behind her lashes. “You brought this on yourself.”

  A quick glare was her only response, but it was obvious she wanted to say a whole lot more.

  “Stop clenching,” Moxtel directed. “You earned this, now accept it.”

  Her gaze locked with Belton’s and her expression gradually softened. She must have relaxed, because Moxtel swung again, and again, concentrating the punishment over the fullest part of her ass cheeks. She cried out each time, but a shrill scream tore from her throat with the eighth swat. Belton looked at his cousin questioningly.

  That was no harder than the others, Moxtel insisted. She’s processing something else.

  After a longer pause, Moxtel swung twice more. The final slap brought a shattering sob rather than a scream, but the reaction was even more troubling. Unable to help the strange tenderness assailing his composure, Belton ran his hand down her back, then up to rest between her shoulder blades. “Talk to me, Lorna. Why are you so upset?”

  She shook her head, obviously trying to cover her face with her hair.

  Moxtel switched back to the flogger, but the contact was different, sensual, caressing. He could sense her emotions, so she must need more stimulation. “He gave you an order.” He swatted her a bit harder as he said, “Obey.”