by Loki Renard
He slipped his fingers back inside her wet pussy and leaned down so the gravel in his voice was soft against her ear. “I’m going to fuck you like you deserve to be fucked.”
She let out a little gasp as his thumb descended against the hard nub of her clit and began rubbing back and forth, his index, middle, and ring finger pressing in and out of her pussy, stretching her wide around his thick digits. Her fingers grasped at his leg again as he started to thrust in and out of her, demanding even more.
Celeste’s heart pounded as the muscles low in her belly and high in her thighs started to tighten all over again. He was masterful in his touch, pinning her securely so there was no chance of escaping the stimulation that made orgasmic waves start following now familiar paths through her nervous system. She heard herself gasping and moaning as he put her body through its erotic paces one more time.
Begging for respite, she collapsed after the third orgasm. She was covered in a sheen of sweat, every muscle in her body weak from the exertion of being so tense she could barely take it and then relaxing to a state that left her floppy and too weak to resist him.
“Please,” she gasped. “Enough.”
“Are you sorry, pet? For being so naughty?” His tone was remarkably gentle and warm given their circumstances.
“Yes,” she moaned. “I’m sorry.”
“Good girl.”
She felt his lips press against the back of her head as he kissed her gently. The act surprised her with its tenderness.
A moment later she felt something cool and hard sliding around her neck. He had slipped a metal collar made of many small links meshed together around her throat, and it felt malleable against her skin. She heard a click as it was locked fast about her throat. It was the sound of certain captivity, and the trigger of two things, panic and rebellion.
“No!” She reached for the collar and tried to pull it off, but the smooth mesh was totally resilient to her efforts.
Celeste knew in that moment that she truly was owned. It was not a thought that told her such a thing; it was the feeling that coursed through her body, a sense of helplessness and vulnerability that consumed her.
“It’s too late for no, pet,” he said as she wriggled back and forth. He put a stop to that by wrapping his arm around her waist and picking her up. He held her like she had seen laborers carry small barrels of wine, tucked underneath his arm.
She was carried, quite nude, from the cell which, as she had suspected, was located in the military HQ of Vector Prime, Alistair’s home planet. There was no natural lighting in the place; glowing strips illuminated the walls and cast the shadow of her bare form being carried by Alistair’s much larger bulk.
Celeste had no idea where she was being taken, but she hoped they wouldn’t pass anyone along the way. She couldn’t bear to be seen without her clothes, stripped, spanked, and shamed. Her bottom was aching now with the aftereffects of the punishment he had inflicted on her. The orgasm had neutralized that ache, used it as fuel for pleasure, but now that the climax was gone, along with its glow, she was nothing but sensitive and sore.
She breathed a sigh of relief as he carried her into an elevator with a great many buttons. At least ninety-nine of them. He hit a button and the elevator began to rise swiftly, carrying them through a glowing tube of blue neon and steel. Vector Prime was not known for being a planet with much in the way of pleasing aesthetics. They were colonists, miners, and warmongers. She found herself in the middle of the most uncivilized civilization in the System. There was no effort to soften the technology, not even carpeting on the floor, which was cold beneath her bare feet when he put her down, allowing her to stand, but keeping a hand slipped in the back of the collar, which was loose enough to function as a grip point.
The elevator stopped and the doors opened into a surprisingly large and airy space. Celeste found herself steered into a large, open room with a curved outer wall in which floor-to-ceiling windows looked out over the landscape. It was obvious from the first moment that she was still very much inside a military installation, for outside the windows security orbs floated in a slow symphony like electrons around an atom.
Forgetting her predicament, Celeste all but pulled Alistair with her across the room to the nearest window where she put her palms to the glass and looked out over the alien planet. The land was red, a deep, primal color, covered in some places with rust grasses swaying to gold hues under the influence of the winds racing across the plains that surrounded the military complex she could see walled off below, a great dark hexagon of steel and stone. She felt a little giddy looking down at it, so she raised her eyes to the great plains where roads snaked into the distance, small settlements dotted here and there. This was nothing like the massive city her father governed over, and nothing like the worlds that were entirely paved over and ringed with advanced technologies where the natural world was not permitted to infringe. Vector Prime was a wild place in which humanity had managed to build a few small bases, but otherwise had left the natural lands untouched.
“Oh, my!” She let out a gasp of pure glee as a few miles away, a herd of wild armored ungulates with large horns grazed across a plain that was unfettered by fences or boundaries of any kind besides a gleaming green river running through it and a few dirt tracks that seemed to have been made by the animals themselves.
“T’evi,” Alistair said from behind her. “They’re good eating. Not easy to bring down though.”
Barely hearing his voice, Celeste stared at the wonder around her, allowing herself to take refuge from her nudity and her humiliation. All of that felt very small and distant compared to the vast wilderness she found herself suspended above, looking out on. Vector Prime was a large planet, which made the horizon both very distant and very wide. Gravity was stronger there. If she had not been used to wearing such heavy garments she might have found it oppressive. Instead, it felt like a steady pressure anchoring her to the ground. It was almost comforting.
On the horizon, day was starting to turn to night. The blue sky turned purple and began to be dotted with a multitude of pinpricks of light. She had seen many night skies in her life, but this one was somehow more beautiful than any of them had ever been. The red land, the violet skies, the way the trees and animals and mountains were all bathed in the light of the sun yet to set and the moon yet to rise. It took her breath away.
* * *
Alistair found himself watching Celeste with a smile. It was so easy to forget who she was and why she was there when he allowed himself to just look at her, the sway of her hip, the rose color of her bottom that he had painted with his very own hand. Her hair was loose now, tossed over one shoulder and cascading down her back. He could see the gleam of his collar around her neck, and felt a pride of possession fill his chest, something fierce and masculine and very old. This was his woman. He had conquered her, and now he was going to claim her.
While she stood entranced, he shed his clothing and approached her from behind, his erection thick and hard against his belly. He wanted nothing more than to spread her thighs and press himself inside her. He had felt her pussy wrap around his fingers once and he wanted to feel that soft, hot, buttery cunt stretched around his cock.
She let out a little moan as he slid his hand along the outside of her thigh. She was relaxed to the touch as he let his hand wrap around her thigh and pull it apart. With no further warning, he thrust his hips forward gently, brushing the head of his cock against her still wet lower lips.
“What are you doing?” She moaned the question softly, her eyes still locked on the world outside the window.
“Taking what is mine,” he growled gently, pressing a kiss to her neck, his teeth grazing below the line of the collar, over her shoulder.
* * *
She turned to face him, her hot bottom cooled by the glass. Looking into his face, she was once more struck by how handsome he was. The way he was looking at her amplified her attraction, a keen, powerful expression that made her m
elt at the knees the same way she was already melting between her thighs.
He had stripped himself entirely and somehow looked more intimidating naked than he had in his armor. Alistair was made of slabs of muscle, a hard man with a harder body. A dark pelt of hair covered his chest and trailed down his abdomen to a patch from which a long, thick cock rose. She didn’t know what part of him to look at. The long, hard body marked with the signs and scars of war, his face that was a mask of masculine desire, or the cock that seemed far too large to ever fit inside her.
“I’m not yours…” she said, searching for shreds of resistance, difficult to find in the flow of arousal.
He lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her with a passion that made her head spin. He was intoxicating; she felt lightheaded and out of control. She tried to pull away, take a breath, gain some composure, but Alistair wouldn’t allow it. He kept her close, his hands roaming her body in slow caresses that further confused her instincts to both submit and rebel.
“There’s nothing to be ashamed of, Celeste,” he purred down at her as she squirmed beneath his powerful touch. “A woman’s body is made to be conquered. From the beginning of time, women have spread their thighs for the men who have taken them. You are no different. Your resistance is self-denial and self-punishment.”
His words made her blush. He spoke of conquering her. Making her his pet. Stripping her of every little last bit of pride and leaving nothing but desire in its place.
His hand slid around her waist, drawing her close. She could smell his masculine musk and feel the thick length of his erect cock pressing against her soft belly. The very last vestiges of resistance were melting and there was nothing she could do but sink her teeth into the flesh of his shoulder.
It was a small act of vengeance, though it earned her a hard slap to her bare bottom and a hard pinch to the back of her neck to make her release her grip. She let out a yowl and pulled away a little, unable to go very far because he was holding her bottom hard, keeping their hips clamped together.
“Fight me if you like, pet, it will make your submission more enjoyable for us both.”
The worst thing about her predicament was the fact that she really was wet. The underside of his cock was sliding against her mound and down below her lips were absolutely slick with juices. She could smell her arousal, and was sure he could too.
“Look at me, pet.” He tipped her chin up so that she was forced to keep eye contact with him. “Tell me what you want.”
“Nothing.” The word was more than a lie, it was a betrayal of her body, but it was the only thing she could answer that would not flood her with shame.
He reached between them and his fingers swirled lightly around the bud of her clit, not making contact, but teasing her toward the answer he wanted.
“Are you sure, pet? Are you sure there’s nothing I can give you?”
When she still did not answer, he used one hand to push her left leg up, leaving her balancing on one foot. The motion spread her pussy wide, her wet lower lips parting to give his cock access to her pussy. She felt the hot throbbing head brushing against that sensitive little spot at the very entrance of her body, but he did not push forward, though he easily could have filled her in that moment. Instead he held himself still and left the decision to her. She would be complicit in her own erotic undoing. Celeste wanted to resist, but the feeling of the thick, hard, hot cock against her slick lips was more than she could take. She felt him moving ever so slightly back and forth, and then a little more, the hot head of him rubbing around the hard nub of her clit. She moaned up at him, his mouth descending on hers as he started to kiss her, lips and tongue possessive and demanding.
Finally, it was she who lowered herself onto his cock, slowly impaling her slick cunt on the hard girth of his manhood. He let out a soft growl and met her motion with one of his own, his powerful hips rising as he lifted her in his arms.
* * *
Alistair could barely believe how good she felt as his cock slid slowly, but deeply inside her. There was no doubt left in his mind that she wanted him; she was tight and hot and very wet as her inner walls gripped and welcomed him with an unmistakable eagerness. The incarceration, collaring, spanking, even her little attempt to wound him had all been very effective foreplay. She might have been angered by her predicament at first, but there was no doubt her body knew how to respond to a dominant mate.
He sank as deep inside her as he could go, lifting her curvy frame up off the floor entirely, the tip of her toes losing contact as he held her up and fucked her, pressing her back and bottom against the window as he sank his cock into her body over and over again in powerful but controlled strokes that left her panting and mewling the names of all the alien deities.
“It feels good, doesn’t it, pet? You don’t need those heavy dresses. You don’t need your titles. You don’t need bowing, scraping servants. You need to be naked, legs spread, pussy filled with your owner’s cock.”
She shivered around him, her cunt clenching at him. She was so very responsive to his words and he found himself enjoying painting a verbal picture of her fall from grace almost as much as he was enjoying sating himself with her tight pussy.
He picked up the pace, thrusting harder, conquering her pussy thoroughly with every stroke. Celeste’s hands gripped at his shoulders, her head fell back, and he could hear her breathing increasing in tempo, ragged gasps coming as she got closer to the fourth orgasm of the day. In between moans, she let out little yelps that he was certain were not from pleasure. Her pussy was probably sore and sensitive; he had handled her a great deal, and was sure she had never been so very well used before.
“Is it uncomfortable, pet?”
“Yes,” she moaned.
He stilled his hips, keeping her impaled on his cock. “Do you want me to stop?”
“No…” The word fell from her lips with despair and dismay.
“Do you want me to keep fucking you until you come all over my cock?”
She resisted answering him, so he gave the smallest pump of his hips and stilled again. “Tell me,” he threatened. “Or I’ll stop.”
Still she stayed silent, until he began to let his cock slide free, taking with it gleaming juices that told the true story of her desire.
“Yesss!” The word was torn from her in a wail of need and despair. He rewarded her instantly by slamming his cock back inside her, thrusting hard and fast and deep as possible, his fingers strumming the erect little bud.
The pace and intensity was just as intoxicating for him as it was for her. He felt his balls tightening, his cock swelling. He pinched her clit as his cock swelled inside her and the first spurts of his cum shot inside her pussy.
The pinch made her buck against him and orgasm violently, her cunt gripping his cock hard enough to make him let out a shout as his sensitive shaft was squeezed for every drop of seed it could deliver. He looked into her beautiful face and saw a ravenous desire there. For a brief moment, her body had taken control of his, her pussy was sucking the life force from him and taking it deep inside. The collar, the capture, none of it mattered for that brief second, in which he was suddenly not so sure who was the captor and who was the captive.
It passed as a blush rushed across her face and her eyes lowered in the aftermath of her utter shamelessness. She was already thinking he had made her lose control; she had no idea of the control she had briefly attained in the madness of climax.
His heart pounding, Alistair slid from her body, a thick trail of white cum following in the wake of his cock. Her pussy was puffy and very slick with their combined fluids. She was well fucked, there was no doubt about that.
“Time to give you a little rest, I think, pet,” he murmured.
* * *
Celeste nodded in a guarded fashion. She was utterly exhausted and totally sated. She felt as though Alistair had branded his mark somewhere deep within her, somewhere it would never be erased. He eased her back down to the floor, her feet
making contact with solid ground again with a soft thump.
She stood there, sticky with his seed as he crooked a finger at her and bade her follow him through the expansive space. She saw a large bed, and across from it, a curtained-off area that seemed slightly out of place. Alistair pulled back the white silken folds of the curtain to reveal a small area walled with bars. It was, quite literally, a cage.
Celeste stared at it, her heart beginning to beat faster as she realized he intended to put her in it. It was just tall enough for her to be able to stand in easily, and a little longer than it was tall. There were pillows, cushions, and soft draping fabrics on the floor, their inviting appearance standing out in sharp contrast to the stark iron bars.
“You already had a cage in your bedroom? How many women have you imprisoned, Alistair?”
“I had it fitted while you were in the cells,” he smirked. “I wanted you close enough to keep an eye on, somewhere I knew you’d be safe. This is the safest place in Vector Prime.”
“Not for me, it isn’t,” she said, guarded.
“Oh, you’re safe,” he said. “Safer than you ever were being dragged into hostile territories by the man who calls himself your father. But before you go in there, I think you need a bath.”
He led her further across the expansive apartment to a door in the wall, which opened into an expansive bathing room. There was a tub large enough for half a dozen people to get into if they had so desired, and it looked out over the same stunning landscape as his bedroom and living areas did.
Alistair hit a button and within seconds, the tub was filled with steaming warm water that somehow seemed to pour through the walls of the tub itself.