by Faye Parker
"Take all me,” he commanded.
He slammed into her. His cock moved in a blur, crashing into her, driving to her end. The swelling stopped, the throbbing stopped, and then he let out one final groan and erupted.
He pumped inside her. Myra's chains rattled. Her ass smacked against the gate as she bounced back. His creamy cock kept filling her, spilling his fertilizing seed into her womb.
As he pulled out, some of it began to drip from her. She could feel his stickiness running out of her, but she still couldn't move from the gate. Her ass wagged as she attempted to sit down. She forgot that she couldn't. Alric had broken her.
"Beautiful," he said, stroking her curvy ass. She continued to thrash against the chains, but as his hands swayed over her hips, and he kept a firm hold on her, she calmed again.
"The perks of being a King," he said, his voice like fine silk now.
"Please, let me out. I want to be in your arms, not chained up."
"Of course. I wouldn't keep you here forever, even if you do look delectable, your ass up in the air, your pussy filled with my cum."
King Alric unleashed her. The chains dropped, and then Myra soon after, thankful that her knees met soft hay. She tumbled onto it and onto her back, where she panted and stared up at the ceiling, looking far away in her weakened state.
Alric dropped to his knees beside her. He pet his cow. His fingers eventually caressed her, worshipping her entire form as she regained some semblance of her mind.
"I enjoyed that. I enjoyed that very much. I'll give you a break for now, but I will want you again."
And again, and again...when would it stop? She hoped it never would.
"It was an honor, my King."
"You don't have to be so formal. I just finished inside you."
"Right," she said, shaking her head over her foolishness.
"Now rest. There will be much to do tomorrow."
She tugged his hand. Not wanting to give it up, Myra lunged.
"Don't leave. Sleep with me tonight."
He pondered over it for a moment, but it didn't take long for him to decide what he would do.
"Maybe it would be best to move the pen to my bedroom. I have a feeling we'll be doing this often."
Often wasn't going far enough. Multiple times a day, she would be taken by King Alric. The pen eventually was moved to his bedroom, but for the first week, he slept with her in the same bed. She was taken outside of the room often, going on trips around the castle, and eventually, was able to visit her family.
Once she was with them, she missed her Master.
Her family wanted to know everything about what had happened, but she couldn't speak about it. They wouldn't understand, and it wasn't proper.
Myra never asked if she could take her collar off when leaving. She didn't want to. Wearing it reminded her of her owner, all of the memories of what he had done to her, and what he promised to do in the future.
A month after she first became his, Myra could tell she was pregnant. Alric was gluttonous with her milk. Often, she would have to pull him off her pumping breasts. She feared he would drink too much. He didn't know when to stop.
After the pregnancy, she would have enough milk to feed the entire Kingdom. That's what King Alric had told her, but Myra knew he would never share. He was greedy with her delicious, frothy milk. He wanted her all to himself.
Myra was all his.
She was his lovely pet to adore.
Space HuCow (A Space Pirate’s Naughty Adventure)
She spotted the score.
Kit worried that she might not find it, but with her excellent tracking and piloting, she darted right behind the stealth craft in her tiny one person ship. It was lightweight and fast—perfect for getting in and out of a job.
The stealth craft was small as well, far smaller than what she was expecting—another reason why she might've had difficulty discovering it. Whatever treasure was on board, it didn't take up much space.
Kit's curiosity was already peaked, and she wasn’t green, either. She’d been on plenty of jobs. This one was different. The client refused tell her what was on board. He relied on Kit's curiosity for her to take the job, and it worked. She went along with the plan, even when the client told her that she should under no circumstances open the treasure.
Yeah, right, like Kit wouldn't open it.
The screen in front of her flashed to another view, an application that had been developed specifically for the stealth craft, shaped like a hook, flying through space in the middle of nowhere. If Kit didn't get such good intel on the ship, it would have no problem getting to its destination, wherever that was. Too bad Kit wanted this. She wanted this bad.
With the application scanning the ship, she hit her thrusters, her spacecraft slowly closing the gap. Kit focused. There was nothing else in her mind but what she was doing with the control stick and what was in front of her. She flew her spaceship underneath that hook-like ship, right at the main body, easily sliding up from underneath it.
They would've crashed and been ripped apart, but Kit started the cutter in time. It swung up from the top of her ship, and once they touched, it latched on, securing her to the craft safely. It worked its magic, cutting a hole in the other ship while creating a safe tunnel to travel through.
There was a rush of air, and then a pleasant beep, which meant that the boarding was complete. Kit powered down. She unlatched herself from the cockpit and headed to the ladder. The cutter swung back inside, revealing a hole that lead up to the stealth craft. She pushed the ladder up and climbed.
The hole bore into the heart of the ship, a living room with sofas, holograms playing the news, and a small bar and kitchen. She couldn't see anything of importance. It seemed no one inside had noticed her yet.
It was things like this that got Kit's heart racing and made her feel most alive. She was short and curvy, not the average looking pirate. And she smelled and looked a lot better than the others too. Medium length black hair, beautiful blue eyes with a ring of gold, and full, sensual lips, a heart shaped face like a cherub; she wasn't what most expected after they were robbed.
She unzipped some of her body-hugging, skin-tight suit. It covered her all the way from her neck to her ankles with a zipper traveling down to her crotch. Her breasts were pushed tight against it. Another one of Kit’s non-threatening aspects was her enormous bust, so big that it often got in the way.
Kit circled the room. She checked over everything, but nothing seemed important. There was a door that led to a hallway, and then there was a solid, reinforced door, which meant someone was trying hard to keep something important secure. She slid a thin disk tucked inside her suit onto the door. It pulsated, and then the next second, the thrumming became so loud that she had to take a couple steps back.
There was another three crashes, the vibrations adjusting. At first, the vibrations tickled her, then reverberated in her soft thighs so much that she ground them together. She always loved that part. It always gave her a horny jolt.
It burst free of its hinges. The door slammed against the floor, probably alerting whoever else was inside the craft, but there was no other choice. Kit stepped inside the tiny room, a dead end.
There was a small black box waiting for her. She picked it up and placed it in both palms. It barely fit.
No lock. Why no lock?
There was a tiny fraction of light streaming out from the lid. She bent over and listened to the hum. Low. Unthreatening. She thought about what the client had said, "Under no circumstances are you to open it."
She opened it. She wasn't going to risk her life and not know why.
The white light flooded her vision. The thrumming filled her being. Her bones rattled. There was a deep mass of energy growing inside her. It swallowed her whole, and a sharp pain dug into her, but it didn't last long, because in the next second, Kit was gone.
Kit woke. Confused, she tried to move, but she couldn't. Her mind resisted, trying to find a way
out. The lounge was in front of her. She tried to scream, but no sound emerged.
There was a reflection in front of her. Glass. She was in glass? There was more to it. The room was blurred, not only from her messed up brain, but because of something else. Water.
She managed to move. Her arm seemed to be weighed down, but she swung it forward, hitting the glass, only delivering a tap.
That was enough.
Someone emerged from the hallway. He wore a nondescript, grey spacesuit, not quite as skin tight as Kit’s, but enough to show he was muscular and in impressive shape. He raced ahead. All of his attention focused on something out of sight.
There was roaring, a rushing past her ears as the clear liquid drained. Strength returned to Kit. Once the liquid was removed, the glass around her slowly slid down.
Her savior, an older man, about thirty, reached a hand out. He had comforting brown eyes, reminding Kit of Earth. His hair was auburn and medium length, once again, well styled for a man whose main job was probably watching over cargo for long, lonely years.
He snapped something off her. He pulled it forward—a mask, which must've kept her breathing in the liquid.
"Easy," he said. Too late.
She took an adventurous step forward, but collapsed. He caught her, and they dropped. Her head cradled in his lap, Kit had never felt more helpless. She tried to fight her way off him, and managed to throw an elbow, but it struck him limply.
"You're still weak," he told her. His voice was smooth but stern. He would make an excellent AI voice.
Kit didn't want to hear him right now. She knew that he was probably the pilot, or at least, a guard of the precious cargo.
"You think?"
She slid out from his hold. Kit knelt and craned her neck, trying to stretch and make the strength return to her being. It took her too long to realize she was naked. She covered herself and spun her back to him. Hopefully, he hadn’t seen much.
"Why are you here?" he asked.
She scanned the room around her, trying to discover a way out, but she knew it was futile.
"I heard there was a wicked party at these coordinates,” Kit mused.
He didn't like the attempt at humor. He grit his teeth, flashing his white canines. It took a lot to threaten Kit, but he managed to.
"Sorry," she said. "What do you think I'm doing here?"
"You opened the box.”
"Of course, you knew that already, so tell me, who am I?"
He snapped up, towering over her. Kit peered up at him. Best to remember I can't use my legs right now, she reminded herself.
"Enough bullshitting. I ask the questions, and you fucking answer them. You're only alive because of me. Do you know that?"
"I didn't know that, but I do now.”
He shook his head and paced. "Ungrateful," he groaned.
"Is it just you here?" Kit asked.
A smile started to form past the stressful creases on his face. "Still trying to get away with the job, I see."
He leaned down. His stare shot right through her, rattling her bones, much like that white light had done.
"You're in a lot of trouble. More trouble than I think you know. I'm assuming you're a pirate, not the smartest one, either. I'm not sure who sent you, but they should've told you not to open the box.”
"They did.”
"Then you should've listened." He couldn't help but grin now. "I don't believe this. You have no idea what you just did. The force that you unleashed in that box changed you. The only reason why you're still alive is because I threw you in the decontamination chamber.”
"Fine," Kit said. She crossed her arms and pushed her knees against them, looking away. She didn't like to be saved. She didn't like failure. She especially didn't like to be talked down to by the person she was supposed to rob.
Fuck. Things had really gotten out of hand.
"Your body was overdosed with a lot of energy. I have no idea what's going to happen to you. The decontamination cleared most of it, but I’m seeing high levels in some areas of your report. Your hormones are out of control. Really, I have no idea what's going on."
"What's in the box?"
He shook his head. He seemed disappointed in her. For some reason, it stung.
"New material used for biotechnology. That's all I know about it. Hell, I usually don't know that much. I'm just the pilot."
He held his hand out to help. "And sometimes, I'm the guard, when it's necessary."
Kit shook her head. She wouldn't take his help. She attempted to stand, but seeing her wobbling knees, she determined it was best to drop her ass to the floor.
"Suit yourself. I'll be back with something to eat. You can make yourself comfortable, but I'm going to lock you in here until we get to our destination. I'm sure you understand."
She seethed. He only grinned at her.
"Don't worry, I don't blame you. I'm only doing my job, and you were only doing yours. Let's leave it at that," he said, and then that smug bastard walked away. Doors sealed shut after he stepped through, blocking Kit inside the lounge, her new prison.
Kit thought Caleb was bluffing. Caleb. She quite liked that name, and despite her best attempts at hating him, she quite liked Caleb as well. For a prisoner, she was treated well.
But he was still her captor. Kit wouldn't forget that. Any chance she got, she would take it, escaping, hopefully with that material that would bring her fame and wealth. It was just part of the job. No offense to Caleb.
There was no escaping. Caleb would only enter to bring her food. Needing to recharge, she ate ravenously. Strange things were happening with her body. The first day, she had bad cramps, and she expected that she would be having her "lady time” soon.
That wasn't the case. Day two brought more problems. That biotechnology that had struck her had done something to her body, making her more sensitive, more swollen, and fuller with—something. She seemed to carry extra liquid in her breasts. They ballooned. They were already huge, but now they were straining against her tight jump suit.
She had to pull the zipper down so far that Caleb could almost see the beginnings of her nipples. She really wished she wore a bra now. Her nipples perked against it, seemingly always hard. Tender and sore, she wondered when the repercussions for her curiosity would let up.
Day three, and she feared what she would wake to. Her breasts were the same size, but they felt fuller. Dense. She was still swollen, but not aching. As the day went on, and after showering in the same chamber that had decontaminated her, the aching started. Her body craved something. Whatever it was, Kit couldn't determine.
She dropped onto the long couch in the lounge and attempted to relax. A hologram popped up with the news, but it wasn't interesting her. She was too distracted by her changes.
Something stirred below. She slumped over the couch, naturally her legs spreading, then she really throbbed down there. Kit peeled her jump suit lower until it rested above her pubic bone. So tight, it remained stuck to her breasts. Her nipples already pebbled and tented against it, helping to keep it in place.
Shoving a hand in her suit, she attempted to determine the cause of her frustrations. It became clear at once. Her pussy was slick and responsive. The bundle of nerves at the top of her pussy throbbed even stronger, screaming for her to continue. Her fingertip touched her clit, and she sprang back, her muscles cramping and the pressure closing in on her from the intense touch.
"Oh, wow," Kit said, her breathing fast and uncontrolled now.
She did it again.
Still, the same response. How could she be that sensitive?
Avoiding her clit, she slowly swerved her fingers over her moist, needy entrance. That felt much better. She stopped once something stirred from her breasts. It started throbbing so hard she couldn't concentrate.
Frustrated again, she pulled her fingers free. She zipped her suit up as far as it could go.
"Fuck this," she growled.
Kit walked up to the bl
ocked door and pounded. She hollered at it, sure that her screams would bring Caleb to her. She didn't know what she was going to say to him. There were no plans, but she needed to vent to someone.
She needed help. Kit didn't want to admit it, but she did. Desperately.
The door zipped away from the next swing of her fist. Caleb stepped forward.
He wore something less formal, a muscular short sleeved uniform and some black pants. Kit had to admit, he looked good in black. For someone so pale, she didn't think it would work, but somehow he brought it all together. He had a confident air about him that made the clash of black on pale skin not so jarring. It was also those ripped muscles, just the right size and capable of pinning her down, keeping her in place as he thrust inside her, filling her and calming her, releasing all that tension, so much tension, with his constant, deep pounding...that was enough.
Why did she not feel so angry when face to face with Caleb?
She still tried to put some shrillness in her tone when she snapped at him, "I've got things to do. You can't keep me here forever."
"I don't plan on keeping you here forever. Just until we get to our destination. Then I'll hand you over to the authorities."
Eyes wide with fear, Kit's hands sprang to snatch him by the collar, but she squeezed her own thighs instead. "They'll torture me," she hissed. Didn't he understand what they would do to her? Whoever had asked for this material was powerful, and powerful and angry people in the galaxy could deliver whatever justice they deemed fit.
Those hard, tense lines on his face softened. He seemed distracted by something. Her breasts. He knew exactly what her problem was.
"How have you been feeling?"
"Fine," she said, arms crossed now, feet shifting away. She kept her arms at the bottom of her breasts, trying to keep them blocked from view, but her arms weren't that big, so it only served to push them up higher.
"You seem different."