Carnal Machines

by D. L. King

Jael’s throat grabbed hold of his breath as he looked at the folds between her legs. He eyed the liquid glistening on the silken flesh of her valley, and thought to himself that he had never seen anything as beautiful as this. Of all the nebulae, glorious clusters of planets and radiant configurations of stars, this was the most magnificent thing he had ever gazed upon. It was as if he were staring into the eye of God Herself.

  He hastily yanked off his gloves and tossed them over his shoulder. Raising tentative hands to stroke the velvety flesh of her inner thighs, he felt the contrast of their skin and cursed his hands for being rugged from a lifetime of work on ships. Pulling them back, he traced soft kisses down the inside of her legs, instead.

  Over and over, he drew a line of kisses towards her sex and each time, he lingered there a bit longer. First, a nudge of his nose. Next, a kiss from his mouth. Then, a soft probe of his tongue. When he heard her purr softly in response, he reached both hands beneath the cheeks of her arse and held her up. In one fluid movement her legs swung over his shoulders as she leaned back, palms flat on the desk.

  He dove into her, licking and sucking every fold and valley between her legs until he found the spot that made her tense and pant. He stayed there, quickening his pace and pressing her ever so slightly up and down with his arms.

  With every movement of his tongue, he exalted her.

  She sighed and moaned. He could feel the muscles in her arse and thighs flex and relax in his hands as she rocked her pelvis so that he no longer needed to hold her up.

  His hands explored the rest of her, his fingers finding their way into both her openings as she continued to roll and grind against his face.

  “I am your captain,” she whispered, as she reached down with one hand and laced fingers through his silver hair. She pulled his face farther into her sex, smearing herself from his chin to his eyebrows.

  He smiled despite himself, but did not stop tonguing, pushing his fingers deeper inside her and finding the corresponding spot within her that made her writhe. He worked his tongue and fingers in unison as she continued to whisper, “I am your captain. I am your captain.”

  Her words jumbled themselves and he felt her thighs begin to close around his head. He raised his elbows and forced her to stay open to him and with that last push she spasmed, clamping down on his fingers, letting her head roll back and thrusting her chest forward.

  She screamed her release, shaking the bones of the Danika Blue. She bellowed her pleasure as an offering to the universe. She shook and twisted and yet he held her open, continuing his tongue and finger work until she brought her arms out from beneath her and melted onto the desk. Her body fell slack and he stayed there, between her legs, watching the rise and fall of her chest as her breathing slowed.

  When it seemed as though she had drifted to sleep he rose from between her legs and walked around the desk. He viewed her from above, awed at the fierce beauty that shown through even her slumber. Gently, he slid one arm under her neck and the other beneath her knees and lifted her off the desk. With great reverence and care he maneuvered himself over to the bed, where he placed her amidst a pile of pillows. He drew a blanket of fur up over her body and sat next to her.

  For a long while, he simply stared at her while she slept. At some point he rose to clean up the mess around the desk. When the room was fit, he arranged a blanket on the floor beside her and slept there.

  In the morning, he awoke before she did and had hot tea and freshly baked muffins delivered. The smell of good things to eat roused her from her sleep and she ate what he offered her, without a word.

  When they were both sated and washed, she turned to find him once again at the desk, his elbows on its surface and his arse open to her. She picked up the bung and gently inserted it in him, followed by a quick smack to his backside.

  He took great care to dress her, clasping each strap, arranging each swath of fabric, and fastening each hook of her elaborate ensemble. He knelt before her and slid her glass cock back inside the pocket of her boot and stood back to admire her. When he was finished he dressed himself and they took a moment to regard themselves together in the mirror on the door: polarized twins, in every way.

  As he placed his hand on the knob and moved to unlock the door, she spoke. “Perhaps tonight I may allow you to finish, but only if you perform well, first. You’ll have to do better than you did last night.”

  He smiled and turned toward her. Without thinking, he kissed her on the mouth. It was the first time he had done such a thing and he quickly pulled himself back from her. She stood, smiling back at him, “Mutineer! You’ll pay dearly for that tonight.”

  “I hope so, sir.”

  He swung the door open and she followed him out to the deck of the Danika Blue. As he assumed his place at the helm, and she hers at her drawing table, Ziv leaned in toward him.

  “Captain?”

  Jael stared at Ailbhe as she once again began mapping the energetic patterns around them that only she could sense.

  “Captain?” Ziv repeated.

  “Sorry, are you talking to me?” Jael said, unable to draw his eyes from Ailbhe.

  “Yes, sir, captain. Whom else would I be talking to?”

  “Right,” he said and cleared his throat. “I am the captain. I am your captain, and she is mine.”

  DEVIANT DEVICES

  Kannan Feng

  The commander is a very busy man,” the secretary said smoothly. “I’m sure you understand.”

  “Do you know,” Victoria De Clemens said in wonder, gazing at the monstrosity, “I’m not sure I do?”

  She guessed that it was a fainting couch, or at least, it had been at one point. It was long and low, with a stuffed roll of velvet at one end, but no other arms or sides. Between the rude struts of mechanical arms and leather straps, she could still see gilt legs and scrolled ornamentation. Despite the welcoming decadence of the purple velvet upholstery, there was a pervasive scent of machine oil that made her think of foundries.

  “It’s the commander’s special design,” said the secretary. He was a neat-looking, dark-haired young man with calm eyes behind square spectacles. He acted as if conversing with Commander Whitcomb’s whores was an everyday task for him. Perhaps it was.

  “Oh, I can see that it’s special,” Victoria said, well aware that she was stalling. “But what is it special for?”

  The secretary’s smile was patient and not unsympathetic.

  “It is meant to prepare you,” he said calmly. “Both fore and aft.”

  “Oh,” she said. “I see.”

  For a girl who had been warming beds in a riverside brothel for months, an assignation with Commander Whitcomb could be the doorway into the easy life of a kept woman. It was a chance that she had fought for, and she was willing to do more to keep the position, but gazing at the half-decadent, half-industrial couch, she wondered how far she was really willing to go.

  “Do I have to take off my clothes?” Victoria was pleased that her voice did not wobble. At twenty-two years old, and with a career that had spanned two continents, it took a great deal to surprise her, but the commander’s couch was managing it.

  “Down to the drawers and corset, yes. I’m staying to help you with the couch, but if you like, I’ll turn my back.”

  “Do so,” she said, regaining some of her haughtiness. “It’s not like you’re paying me.”

  He didn’t peek as she removed her cream and scarlet morning gown. Next to the stark white of her camisole and knickers, her dark skin had a rich golden glow, and the whalebone corset gave her waist a sharp, vicious nip. In defiance, she left her black silk stockings and her polished boots on.

  “All right then.” This time she heard a distinct tremor in her voice and she squared her shoulders.

  “Allow me to help you into position.”

  The secretary offered her a hand gloved in tight black leather. Surely those weren’t military issue, she thought as he directed her toward the couch. The thing itself was s
urprisingly comfortable, a perfect place for a catnap if there weren’t terrifying metal arms looming to either side, and a calm secretary removing his coat and opening a box of god knew what.

  “What’s your name?” she said suddenly. “I don’t know what to call you.”

  He glanced up, a slight smile on his face. She realized that he was perhaps a few years younger than she herself was.

  “You can call me Mercer,” he said, “and if you don’t want the commander to give us both hell, you’ll let me get started.”

  She felt herself go hot and embarrassed at being caught out as afraid, but then he reached up to squeeze her hand.

  “It’s nothing to be afraid of,” he said, so soft and quiet that she wasn’t sure that he had spoken at all. Then he was standing up and away, arranging something on the nearby table.

  “There are two wooden pegs to either side of the couch,” he said. “Please place your legs to the outside of those pegs.”

  She found the worn wooden pegs and glanced over at Mercer. He had removed his jacket and now only wore his waistcoat and shirtsleeves, which were pushed to his elbows. He had not removed the black gloves and she realized that he was not going to.

  It was very well for him to be calm, she thought angrily. He wasn’t the one who was lying back on the bastard child of a foundry and a bordello.

  When she let her legs fall to either side of the sturdy pegs, they were parted much farther apart than she thought they would be. It stopped short of straining her upper thighs, but her crotchless knickers fell open of their own accord. She knew that her curly black hair was being exposed to the room.

  A little wider and anyone passing by could see the pink of her cunt, she thought, and she licked her lips. The exposure was frightening, but it was also arousing. She wanted someone to pass by and see how pink she was amidst all that dark curling hair.

  Mercer glanced down at her, and despite his professional demeanor, she knew that he had taken a quick look. It made him more human, and she found a smile for him that made him swallow before he spoke.

  “With your permission, Miss De Clemens, I need to prepare you for the machine.”

  “You do whatever you need to do, then,” she said, feeling almost languid. The machine was new, but the way that he looked at her wasn’t. It put her in control, and she watched him with curiosity as he stood between her widespread legs.

  There was a high blush on his cheeks now, and she could see that his gloved fingers were covered with some sort of glossy oil. She knew what came next and she lifted her hips up to his fingers, sighing softly as they sunk in.

  For all his youth, Mercer had obviously done this before, and he slicked her channel with quick, sure strokes. She could feel her own natural wetness rising to match, and she rocked up against his hand.

  She was sure that he continued for a moment longer than he absolutely had to because he suddenly shook his head and withdrew his fingers. Her body arched after him for a moment, and then she forced herself to relax.

  “That was pleasant,” she commented, slightly breathless.

  “I’m glad,” he murmured. “I hope this part will be as well.”

  Her eyes widened as he held up a black rubber phallus. It had been expertly molded, and the blunt rear end was capped in steel threading. It looked large in his hands and she felt a momentary pang of apprehension and anticipation.

  “What’s the commander got that that’s what I need to get ready for him?” she muttered, and Mercer only smiled slightly and shrugged.

  The phallus was screwed into one of the jointed mechanical arms and Mercer pivoted it around and bent it forward so that it was pointed squarely between her legs.

  Victoria couldn’t take her eyes off it. It was a gorgeous toy, but she couldn’t ignore the metal arm behind it. It looked ready to impale her, and she lifted her head to look at Mercer, who was looking over the controls behind her head.

  He caught her gaze and smiled reassuringly.

  “This is going to make some noise,” he warned her. “Be ready.” There was a series of clicks and then the machine began to whir. It was not the loud, brutal clanking that she had been braced for, and she was aware of a strong, steady vibration through the frame of the couch.

  She managed to observe all of that until she felt the head of the phallus pushing at her cunt. It was gentle, just probing, but she could feel the strength behind it. Victoria was beginning to feel a panic rising in her throat, but then Mercer was kneeling beside her, his gloved fingers spreading her open to allow the phallus to enter.

  “It’s not perfect yet,” he murmured. “I’m still needed for some things.”

  “Well, thank god for that,” she said, breathing hard. She wrapped her arm around his shoulder, and having him there, solid and human, helped as the phallus pushed into her body in short, smooth movements.

  Victoria took a deep breath and forced herself to relax. It was large enough that it took time to enter her fully, but once it had, it went perfectly still. She fell back against the couch, feeling how stretched she was. Her hands were clenched into trembling fists and she knew that her long black hair, so carefully pinned up in the morning, was falling down in disarray.

  “It’ll be fine,” Mercer was saying soothingly. “It’ll be fine, just relax.”

  She wanted to say something sharp to him, but his fingers were stroking the lips of her sex gently and soothingly, dancing close enough to her clit that she moaned.

  “Are you read for more?” he asked, and she shook her head.

  “Let me…” She gritted her teeth. “Let me see…”

  He would have asked what she meant, but then she shifted her hips under his hand, withdrawing slightly from the mechanism before pushing herself back. It was large enough that she felt drawn taut, but she was slippery from the oil and Mercer’s fingers. When she raised her hips a second time, the pressure turned into something much more pleasurable.

  Victoria’s sigh of relief turned into a surprised gasp when the phallus started to throb inside her. Somehow, it was swelling and trembling, and the ripple of sensations through her body made her moan.

  Without noticing, she had squeezed herself against Mercer’s chest. Her face was pressed against his shoulder, and when she addressed him, her voice was small and muffled.

  “Did…did you do that?”

  “I did.” His voice was as hushed as hers and she knew that if she reached her hand into his neatly pressed trousers that she would find him hard and aching.

  She wouldn’t, though, and that thought delighted her too. He was the one ministering to her pleasure with this strange machine. It made him part of the machine and that excited her as well.

  “More,” she said imperiously, and that made him smile, even as he blushed.

  He flipped another switch, and the vibration of the couch took a different timbre. After a barely perceptible shudder, the phallus withdrew from her almost completely before surging back inside. It was rigid in a way that a man wasn’t, and the force behind it made her moan. It repeated the motion again and again, precise to the millimeter.

  Victoria held herself perfectly still, but when the machine quickened its pace, she caught her breath and started to push her hips up against it. She couldn’t help it. Even her fear of the strange device and her embarrassment about being exposed to the eyes of a man who was still entirely dressed conspired to excite her.

  Somehow, her fingers were twisted into the sleeve of Mercer’s shirt and his hand was between her legs again. He was less gentle this time, but his gloved fingers sought and found her clit with unerring accuracy. He stroked it firmly making her arch and thrash, and through it all, the phallus continued to pound into her relentlessly.

  Victoria realized that she was about to climax just a moment before it happened, and then she shuddered, her body stiffening as if she had been shot through with electricity. She could hear her own moaning, high and breathless, and she clung to Mercer, burying her face in his shoulde
r and shaking so hard she was sure she would shatter.

  Distantly, she heard him switch off the machine, and the phallus inside her came to a slow halt. When it was finally still, it rested halfway inside her. She was still wet, but tender too, and she started to slide back on the couch.

  “Wait, allow me, please…” Mercer’s voice was ragged but still polite, and one gentle hand on her shoulder convinced her to lie still if only to see what he would do next.

  He flipped a few switches on the machine, and suddenly all of the tension from the mechanical arm was gone. The young secretary applied a fresh coating of oil to his fingers and gently slid them along the shaft of the phallus up to where it entered her now slightly swollen cunt.

  Victoria sighed as his fingers moistened her cunt and the shaft of the phallus as well. When he removed the phallus from her body, there was no swift pain, only a long, smooth slide that ended with a gentle moan escaping her lips.

  “You’re beautiful,” he said softly, laying the phallus somewhere that she couldn’t see.

  “Thank you,” she muttered, pressing her legs closed. The machine had left a lingering soreness that blurred the line between a sensual memory and a physical pain.

  “We’re not done yet,” he said as she stretched.

  She glanced at him, feeling languorous but playful.

  “You’re pleased that we’re not done yet,” she said teasingly, and he smiled with one corner of his mouth.

  “I am always pleased to spend time ministering to a lady as lovely as you.”

  She laughed at his gallantry, but then he glanced behind his shoulder and became all business again.

  “Will you get up on your hands and knees, please?” he asked.

  “Ah, yes,” she commented. “Mustn’t be lazy, now.”

  She unwound her legs from the wooden pegs and assumed the position that he indicated. The cushioning of the fainting couch was firm and now thoroughly stained with her wetness. The scent excited her further and she smiled, catlike, at Mercer.

  “It must be nice,” she said, “getting to play with the commander’s bits of pretty.”