by Aubrey Cara
My breasts sway and I’m all too aware of the new moisture between my legs. As a veran, I can will either of my channels to lubricate, but I don’t know how to get them to stop when they’re lubricating against my will.
Once I reach his feet, I sit back on my heels, and he squats down to face me. “You’re shielding again.”
He runs a rough-tipped finger from my temple down to my cheek. The strength and breadth of him this close is overwhelming, and I don’t want him to know his effect on me. I’m not sure why I dropped my shield before, but I will not do it again.
Jor smiles the kind of smile my master would wear before he went in to play with a new gearan. I will myself not to tremble under his watchful gaze.
“I was going to have you take my cock in your mouth, but I think your spirit is back.” He stands so his weeping cock is right in my face, and I suddenly imagine flicking my tongue out for a taste of him.
“Don’t tempt me,” he says as if reading my thoughts. And suddenly I do very much feel like tempting him.
I reach out and take his hot length in my hand and ease forward until my mouth brushes over the wet tip. I lick my lips to taste him, and he groans, watching me. His essence is surprisingly sweet. I lean forward again to lick over him before taking him in my mouth and sucking him down halfway to his base and back.
His hand winds its way into my hair. The free tresses flick out to caress his flanks as I lave and suck him. With one hand, I pump his length, and with the other I explore the dangly sac behind his cock. It pulls up tight when I caress it, and my new master curses, tightening his fist in my hair.
The bite of pain sends a jolt of heat through my system. I squirm around where I kneel, trying to get friction between my legs.
He pulls my head back until I pop off his length. “Are you enjoying yourself?”
In answer, I flick my tongue out to lick his dripping little slit.
His eyes roll back. “Are you trying to make me come in your delectable mouth before I get a chance to rut you?”
He thinks my mouth is delectable? I hadn’t meant to do that, but…I suck in my lower lip and eye his cock in longing.
“Get up on the platform,” he growls and hauls me to my feet.
On shaky legs, I crawl up onto the raised dais and lay full out on my stomach, my legs spread.
A deep chuckle rumbles from Jor. “Oh, I’m not going to make it so easy on you, my temptress.”
He lifts my hips and pulls back my arms. In quick, easy movements, he secures the cuffs on my wrists and ankles before locking each wrist to the outside of each ankle. He drags me back to the edge of the platform until my toes nearly hang off. Then he spreads my knees, locking the hover cuffs in place so I can’t move from the position at all.
I struggle against my bonds all the same while he kneads my ass.
“Fuck,” he mutters. “The things I want to do to you.”
I peek over my shoulder at him. His intense gaze is trained on my sex.
Out of nowhere, he slaps my upturned ass, and I squeal into the mattress. Warmth unfurls where his stinging strike landed, and I almost want him to do it again.
His thick thighs brush up against mine as he moves in to kneel behind me. He palms my ass, spreading my cheeks. My skin prickles as his thumb circles my rosette, but then wet heat laps at my core, and my mind spins. His tongue dips inside me, the sensation stealing my breath.
The position I’m in is far from comfortable, and I can’t move at all. I’m confined in a demeaning vulnerable pose, yet all those things, along with his wicked tongue, are making my senses sing with life.
When my channel begins to lightly vibrate, he stops and slaps my ass. The strike again catches me off guard. I cry out from the shock of it, but the spreading heat is what makes me whimper, the sensation zinging through me far different from pain.
Smack, smack, smack. He peppers one ass cheek and then the other until I’m squirming, traitorous moans rising from my throat.
Just when I don’t think I can take any more, he goes back to licking me, tasting me.
His teeth scrape against my tender folds as he nips and sucks. His fingers join the fray, working my nerve-laden rings.
I have to bite my lip to keep from begging for more. I try to close my legs, struggling in my bonds.
“Your holes are so tight, my little veran. We’re going to have to stretch you before Banx gets to you. His thick cock will break you in two.”
My mind reels. I’m shaking. Hungry to be filled. Scared that I still have two more Monrok masters who want to claim me after Jor is done with me.
Both my channels are vibrating and I’ve never experienced need so acute. He pulls away again, and my channel painfully spasms on air.
“Please,” I pitifully cry before I can stop myself.
“I love the sound of you begging.” Soft lips press to my shoulder. My hip. I jolt at gentle contrast to his rough touch. “Tell me what you need, my little veran.”
“You.” His fingers run down my spine, and my entire body quivers. I’m strung on edge with need. “I need you inside me.”
“Stop blocking, and I’ll give us what we both want.” His voice is coarse. He’s as filled with need as I am. If I wait, he’ll likely fuck me. Fill me with his big cock and relieve the pulsing ache of my sex.
He starts spanking me again, and I bite the bed cover to keep from screaming.
“I’m not rutting you until I get what I want,” he threatens stubbornly, and I know it as truth.
His large cock head flicks and teases against my opening. He pops the head of himself through my first ring. I hold my breath, willing him to push in and stretch me, fill me, but he pulls out. He does this over and over, all while kneading and spanking my tortured ass. The back of my legs.
My thighs begin to quiver.
“Please,” I humiliatingly cry again.
“You know what I want.”
Dropping my shield is as unnatural an act as being bound in this position. The block has been lodged firmly in place since I learned how to control it. Dropping it earlier was an aberration. I force myself to release the mental stronghold.
The second it’s down, Jor plunges forward, filling me to the brim. My channel vibrates wildly as he fucks me with hard, sure strokes. His massive body covers me. His hand cups my breast possessively.
Visions come at me like lightning bolts. I naturally reach out to mind meld and control the flow. Unlike the barrier I hit with Banx and Ast, Jor is as open to me as I am to him.
“Stop,” he says, as he tries to push me out of his mind.
“I can’t.” Pulling back now would be like trying to ebb the tide of pleasure gripping my shaking body. I need to be there in his mind. I try to calm him, but he will not let me navigate or have control in any way.
He starts to swell inside me and yanks out, only to push at my pucker. I try to relax my excited channel, but the head of him is like a bludgeon. This is to be my punishment. Punishment for seeing inside him. But my rings don’t understand that. They begin to strum him with every push pull of his burgeoning length. Rhythmically milking him, trying to hold him in.
His fingers dive into my cunt, circling my front pleasure rings, all while his entire life of memories crash over me. Pain, his life has been so much pain. The Zapex torture. Ast, Tawn, and Banx finding him after he had been savaged by his own kind. So young and weak then discarded. They saved him, but they couldn’t protect him from the Zapex. Cycles of endless torture blink through my consciousness even as I shake with pleasure.
My body tightens and spasms in spasmodic bliss while the horrible tragedy of his existence plays out in flashing visions. He swells inside me until I cry out from the pressure, my legs jerking, but unable to get away.
Zaps of static shoot from my hands. My body lifts, floating just off the platform.
Jor’s orgasm tears out of him with an unrestrained cry filled with years and years of agony. It echoes around the chamber and sends shivers down my spine.<
br />
Still pulsing hot jets of essence inside me, he tries to yank his knotted length out. I scream as my internal muscles clamp down even tighter. He curses and releases my wrists and ankles from the cuffs then rolls us to our sides.
He turns my face, running fingers through the moisture sliding down my cheeks. “Lacrimation? I didn’t know veran cried.”
I have retreated from his mind, and my blocks are now firmly back in place, but the agony of the memories lingers.
“I’m sorry, master.” I don’t mean for crying, but for everything he’s suffered at the hands of the Zapex. I now understand his disdain and distrust of me, as unfair and misplaced as it is. And it makes it even more imperative he not learn what I know about the Zapex. He, more than most, would want to destroy all of Jar’jn posthaste.
At my apology, surprise lights his eyes before his stony mask falls back into place. He releases my face and reaches forward to pull the covers up and over the front half of me.
“You don’t want to be covered?” I ask. I’m still shaky and out of breath, but he seems completely recovered.
“I don’t care for such trappings. Get some rest, veran.” It’s a gruff command belied by his thick arm wrapping around my waist to pull me back against him. And he leaves it there, securely holding me to him.
“Yes, master,” is all I say. It’s all I can say because silent tears still track down my face.
Snug in his embrace, the embrace of my contrary master, I drift to sleep.
CHAPTER FOUR
TAWN
The lights flicker. My head jerks up at the same time Banx and Ast come to attention. We don’t need enhanced hearing to have caught Jor’s bellow. It didn’t sound like one of pleasure.
“He wouldn’t kill her, would he?” I wonder.
Ast shoots me a grim expression. “Don’t even fucking joke about that.”
Banx shrugs. “I think it’s more likely she’s figured out a way to kill him. We shouldn’t underestimate the female.”
I have been biding my time in the control room. Banx advised giving Jor and Sana some time to work things out. The logic seemed reasonable enough when he said it. Now, I’m not so sure.
“Maybe I should go check on them.”
Banx nods. “Send Jor this way. There are two Alogorian vessels on the radar I’m keeping my eye on.”
“I heard tell the Alogorian ruler is seeking an alliance with the Monrok.”
Banx’s scoff says it all. Nothing will be left to chance. Especially not when we are essentially on our own, harboring a fugitive of sorts. Or perhaps we’re all fugitives.
My lifebringer gives a happy twitch at the thought of our illegally obtained veran, and I stand. Ast notices and casts a glance down to the passageway, his mein half envy, half concern.
“You have a quarter shift before I’m joining you,” Banx says.
“You’ve been patient all this time, and now you mean to rush me?”
His expression darkens. “I’ve waited for her sake. My patience is wearing thin.”
I nod and waggle my brows. “We won’t always be taking turns. Perhaps it will be good for her to get used to experiencing more than one of us at a time.”
“If the Zapex take her from us at Pacbar, we won’t be sharing her at all,” Ast mutters.
The reminder nearly dims my excitement. Jealousy and resentment are not common sentiments amongst Ast, Banx, Jor, and I, but I believe Ast is experiencing some of the weaker emotions of our organic origin.
“Careful. Your human side is showing,” I tell him.
He grumbles, pulls out a rough stone, and begins sharpening one of his handmade blades. I shake my head and head for the passageway. We’re cybernetically enhanced with advanced tech weaponry in our fingertips, and he makes rudimentary blades.
Many Monrok fashion such things. It’s a hobby I’ve never understood.
I don’t have long to wonder which chamber they’re in. My cybernetic senses pick up the scent trail of sex and Sana. It’s a scent I could get used to. Longing hits me at the same time I’m reminded that if things don’t go well on Pacbar, this may be our only time with her.
The door slides open the second I place my hand on the sensor, and I’m relieved Jor didn’t lock it. I would have hated to have to break the door down.
Jor is lying supine on the cushy platform, a forearm slung over his eyes. His spent cock is on full display, and the room reeks of his essence, giving proof that whatever displeasure he had at taking a veran has been overcome. Though the discarded hover cuffs strewn over the platform make me question what happened in here, the sensual curve of Sana’s backside is trustingly snugged up against Jor in her slumber. I take that as a positive sign.
He sits up when I enter, covering our veran as he rises. His face is haunted as he passes me on his way to the bak. I haven’t seen such a hallow-eyed expression on him in decades, but, all he says is a terse, “She’s sleeping.”
She won’t be for long, but I refrain from commenting. Jor, like Ast, has a short fuse, easily lit.
I wait until the panel for the bak to snicks closed before disrobing. I give my eager cock a stroke as I pull back the covers and ease in beside our female.
It’s been over two decades since we discovered the data on humans and saw our first vids of human females and sex. We’ve watched them all, cataloging what we like, what we’d try if we had a female. Now that I’m presented with one, I just want to be inside her. It matters not to me that she’s not human.
Though I admit I wasn’t sure about Banx’s choice to take a veran, Sana has proven to be intriguingly lively. I think she may be the perfect female for us, and I haven’t even rutted her yet.
Yet.
My cybernetics work to even my racing heartrate. There’s nothing I’ve anticipated longer than this moment. I understand Banx wanting to cut my time short so he, too, can enjoy our female.
Sana’s body is warm under the covers, her breathing even and deep in slumber. We Monrok do not require much sleep, and make do with any flat surface. If we are stationed somewhere, we rest on sleeping pads in barracks. There has never been a time we had coverings. We acclimated to doing without until our cybernetics integrated. Once that occurs, we no longer experience discomforts such as cold or pain.
I kick my feet in the bedding as I roll to my side. The coverings are a bit cumbersome to move under, but I suppose other beings derive comfort in the warmth they offer.
They do lend a sense of seclusion.
I run my hands up and down Sana’s flank, delighting in how soft and gently curved she is everywhere. Even her skin is that of the petal of a flower. Her scent is just as exotic, and I revel in it all. I snuggle my hips against her ass, nestling my length between her cheeks, and trail my lips from her shoulder to her jawline. Reaching up, I cup plump breasts, worrying her nipples until she squirms. My hand explores down her toned abdomen, my fingers seeking out the place I want to be the most. Slipping into the V of her thighs, I sink one digit into her slit, finding her slickness to spread around her opening.
I can tell the moment my little flower awakens. Her glorious hair comes alive, tendrils stroking along my arm and cheek. My cock jerks. I never thought a female’s hair could be my downfall, but the sensation of her silky tresses rubbing against me makes my cock weep.
Wasting no time, I roll her onto her back. She stiffens for a moment before relaxing and spreading her legs. I fit myself there, covering her with my body.
“Are you going to fight me?” I ask out of genuine curiosity. The veran has a spark of fire beneath her innocence, and I have a feeling she let Jor experience some of that.
Her breath huffs out in something resembling a laugh. “Do you want me to, master?” With heavy lids, she gazes up at me and smiles, her fingers caressing my lips.
I relax and chuckle myself. “That’s a game we’ll save for later.” I nip the pads of her fingers, exalting when her eyes flare.
There are so many pleasures I w
ish to explore with her, teach her. But for now, this first time, I wish to revel in the feel of her body under mine.
“This is how I want you, Sana.” My hard length is trapped between us, and I reach down to notch myself into her opening. “Soft, supple, and accepting.”
Slowly, so very slowly, I sink inside her welcoming heat, watching her mouth fall open and eyes slide closed. Just as gradually, I pull out, imprinting every sensation to memory. I rut her with long even strokes, nearly leaving her before sliding back in, dragging out the moment like if I go slowly enough, it will last forever.
“This.” I kiss the column of her throat as she arches under me. “This is what I’ve dreamt about and longed for all those long solars I stroked my lifebringer to vids and pictures of human females.”
She smiles. “I know. I can see your memories.” Her brows furrow. “Are you disappointed you got a veran instead?”
I pause, staring down at her, and try to imagine a human female in her place, but there is no comparison. Sana was meant for us. For me.
“You are perfect, du’rah.”
She gasps, her brow furrowing. Vulnerability swims in her gaze. “You cannot call me that.”
I rest my forehead to hers. “Why? That is what you are. Who you are meant to be. Du’rah.”
Referring to her as my honored makes something in my chest grip tight. I want to say it over and over again. She raises a protective instinct in me like nothing I’ve ever experienced. I want to kill the hadhr who put those bruises on her. I want to vanquish all who think to take her from us. She is my mate, and now that I have found her I will never let her go.
“You ask me of regrets?” I push in as deep as I can go and rock against her. “My only regret is not finding you sooner.”
She cries out, her nails digging into my shoulders. Her thighs grip my waist as she writhes under me.
Monrok are beings of time and death. Age has no bearing on our existence, so we move through time using the practical markings of shifts and cycles as a means to no end. When time becomes limited, it takes on new meaning.