Shalia's Diary #7

by Tracy St. John

  Betra hammered against me, taking me hard and fast. This time it was the molten friction against my inner hotspot that set me off into heavenly destruction. I bucked so hard I almost threw Betra off. Yet I managed not to scream.

  “Now you may come, my Imdiko,” came the uncharacteristic soft voice rarely heard from the weapons commander.

  Despite the gentle tone, the sound of the crop came faster than ever, almost a steady hum. In spite of it ... or perhaps partly because of it ... Betra managed only two more thrusts before his cocks jerked within my sleeves. He came hard, his gut noticeably wrenching with the strength of climax. He crouched over me as it happened. One fist slammed down on the table top. Somehow he managed not to voice the shattering ecstasy though his expression told of exquisite torment.

  Oses stopped whipping Betra as the Imdiko shivered and panted. Tears dripped from Betra’s eyes to fall down my cheeks. His arms, braced on either side of me, quaked as if ready to give way any second. At last the strong pulses of his cocks ebbed, his passion spent.

  When Betra’s elbows did buckle, Oses’ muscled arm was already wrapped around his waist to catch him. The Nobek eased Betra back, carefully pulling him away from me to settle him on the lounger once more. Oses didn’t hurry the process. He also didn’t touch Betra for any longer than was necessary to get him settled in such a way that the unsteady Imdiko wouldn’t fall and hurt himself.

  Once Betra was taken care of, Oses straightened and looked at us both lying lax and strengthless. He drew in a breath and rubbed a hand over his forehead. He looked impressed. “That was amazing to watch.”

  He sat on the table next to me where I splayed like a limp noodle. I didn’t pretend to think I wouldn’t be up for more shenanigans. Oses is too damned good when it comes to sex. I might have had no strength at that moment, but he’d get my libido cooking again or my name wasn’t Shalia Elizabeth Monroe.

  The Nobek looked me over, a slight smile creasing his handsomely rough face. “You look so well fucked, pet. If there is anything more beautiful than a woman right after she’s been sexually satisfied, I can’t imagine it. When I allow you to speak again, the first thing you will say is ‘Thank you, Betra.’”

  I managed a wan smile because that’s all I had energy for at the moment. It was nice of Oses to manage a compliment for both me and Betra in the same statement. It made Betra smile too.

  Oses’s calloused hand stroked down my throat. He watched it skim over my chest, each breast, and my stomach. Right on cue, heat curled in my belly. Yep, I wasn’t finished yet. Not as long as that Nobek wanted me to be aroused.

  He bent over to suckle soft on a breast. Bliss trickled through the mound at the wet warmth of his attention. I closed my eyes to take in the sweet pleasure. His raspy tongue whirled around my areola, making my nipple swell hard and stiff. That combination of gentle and rough sent a shiver through me.

  The sensation of his mouth left me. I cracked an eyelid open to see if my other breast was about to get its fair share.

  Oses smirked at me. His hand flashed. The palm smacked against the side of my breast, shocking me with a smarting flare. My mouth opened wide.

  He put a finger to his grinning lips. “Shh, pet.”

  I choked down the nearly voiced surprise. Heat pulsed from my tit, and my twat took notice. It throbbed with sympathy and interest.

  Oses bent to take the other breast in his mouth. Sweet and gentle once more. But only for the moment, I knew. I was right. After his coarse-velvet tongue teased the nipple into a rigid peak, he delivered a sharp spank to it too. I was ready for it in that I didn’t come close to yelling. But I sure twisted a lot as fire sank into the mound.

  With that pleased leer that told me how much the Nobek enjoyed himself, he slid from the table to kneel on the floor. Moving as sinuous as a serpent, he positioned himself between my legs. Gazing at my pussy, his naughty grin faded. Hunger sparked in his eyes.

  Those coarse fingertips moved to the plump folds, parting them with tender care. Oses leaned forward to deliver a worshipful kiss, his eyes closing as he tasted me. I shivered with delight to feel his lips and tongue slide against wet, trembling lips.

  His tongue entered me, tasting the copious juices seeping out. I dimly thought that Oses also tasted Betra’s seed. I glanced at the Imdiko to see if it had occurred to him too. If it had, it didn’t bother Betra in the least. He watched Oses lap and swallow, his sated expression showing only pleasure as he continued to recover from his earlier orgasm. Betra seemed to appreciate the show.

  Being watched added spice to what Oses did to me. I had a weakness for being on display as I enjoyed my lover’s attentions. My swollen clit throbbed, occasionally rewarded with a quick lick or kiss. I buried my fingers in Oses’ coarse hair, letting my fingers tangle as his feeding strengthened. Soon I had to fight off moans as he devoured me.

  My pussy tingled with delight, arousal once more the main focus. My hips bucked involuntarily, entreating for more. Oses’ answer was to stop. He rose up straight, his eyes glittering.

  His hand moved so fast that I felt its slap against my delicate womanhood before I registered what had happened. Pain bloomed with heady magnificence. All the breath left my body in a shocked whoosh.

  Tears stung my eyes, and I bit my lips together to keep a cry from erupting. My thighs slammed together.

  “No, no, naughty pet,” Oses chastised. “Open your legs and keep them open. This pussy is mine to use as I see fit.”

  Though I feared another smack, I obeyed right away. He was right that it belonged to him. I had no choice in the matter. I spread my legs.

  Oses bent. His mouth found my secret flesh again, soothing the sting with raindrop kisses.

  Throbbing hurt resolved into pulsing need. I twisted on the tabletop as Oses kissed, lapped, licked, nibbled, and plundered me to the brink of orgasm. Then he spanked my pussy twice. Resounding agony crashed against me, quickly replaced by crazed longing as he mouthed me once again.

  The next time he smacked my trembling flesh I felt only agonized want. I grabbed at the front of his formsuit, desperate for him to finish me. I spoke not with my voice but with anguished eyes and breathy sobs.

  His slow smile was that of supreme satisfaction. He got to his feet and leaned over me. Propping himself with one hand next to my shoulder, he opened the crotch of his uniform with the other. His cocks emerged; swollen, distended, dripping with desire.

  I wordlessly spread my thighs farther apart, beseeching him to fuck me. Oses’s hips lowered. His larger primary cock tip found my opening and teased its way in until the smaller cock bumped against my ass. He made a slight adjustment to make it nestle against my rear entrance.

  With no warning Oses shoved hard, burying himself with one brute thrust. By that point, my body no longer cared if it was given pain or pleasure. All that mattered was sensation, and the rawer the better.

  Oses rode me with ferocious power, demanding I surrender to orgasm. I did within seconds, clinging to him with all my strength as his weight pinned me to the table and his groin pounded against mine. Again and again, his cocks drove into me to claim all they could. Over and over, I gave in to the crashing climaxes that swept through to tear me apart. Despite the gag in my mouth, I had enough leeway to bite into my lover’s shoulder. I had to in order to muffle the cries I could no longer hold back. I tasted Oses’ blood on my tongue.

  His growl was low and forceful as he filled me with his seed. I came one more time and fell strengthless to the table. After a moment, Oses sagged on top of me, blanketing me with his hard body.

  As soon as we were able to move, Betra removed my gag. The bit was mangled where my back teeth had dug in. Oses snatched it from Betra and put it in one of his pouches with a satisfied expression. “My trophy,” he whispered. What a nut.

  Betra next handed Oses a cup of water and held mine as I gulped. My hands were too shaky to hold the glass myself. My liaison laid me on the lounger and covered me in a soft blanket as I
recovered.

  The Imdiko had already cleaned the scratches I’d given him. Once I had my fill of water, Betra set to work on the nasty bite I’d bequeathed Oses, wiping the blood away and smearing antibiotic cream over the injury. The weapons commander didn’t flinch despite the jagged oval of deep chewing marks. If anything, he looked absurdly proud. It made Betra snicker.

  We had plenty of time to pull ourselves together. On the monitor, Anrel slept on, undisturbed by the activity in the next room. We chuckled as we congratulated ourselves. You’d think we’d gotten away with robbing a bank.

  Looking at my marked companions and catching my own disheveled appearance in the mirror, I thought we deserved our self-satisfaction. We’d been quiet, but we had still managed to wreck ourselves pretty good.

  August 22, early

  Dramok Resan. Asshole. Motherfucker. Stupid piece of shit that should be given to Tragooms except Tragooms deserve better.

  I’d say I hate the man, but hate is such a mild word. Hate doesn’t begin to cover it. Not in the least.

  If I didn’t have so much to fear in this universe, I’d be done with him. I’m in pretty good health now, all things considering. There is no need for physical therapy anymore, which is one of the duties Resan performs on the ship. But no, I have a crazed psychopathic stalker coming after me and Anrel. I have to be the universe’s biggest trouble magnet, attracting every evil creature in existence. So I need to train for absolute fitness. And of course the man who is the top trainer on this ship, the man who Oses says must be my trainer is Dramok Resan.

  Our hatred is mutual. There is one thing and one thing only that we agree on: our abhorrence of each other has no real reason behind it. It’s just one of those things. You know how when you despise someone, the least little irritation that you’d laugh off from anyone else gets blown all out of proportion? It can be just the tiniest little insignificant quirk, but when it comes to that one person you can’t stand, it’s apocalyptic. That is Resan for me, and me for Resan. We can’t look at each other without disgust curling our lips. We go out of our way to drive each other into madness. It turns out Resan is a lot more skilled at assholery than I am. I guess that’s a good thing since I don’t want to be a jerk in general. But it would be nice to out-asshole him once in a while. It would be awesome to make him shut up just once.

  Today was not the day that happened. The son of a bitch won another round. Just thinking about it makes me want to take his head off.

  Physical training always starts off with a run. I’m up to half a mile now, typically running routes through corridors. Candy and Katrina were with me as usual, and running slightly better than me as usual. Katrina has always kept herself fit and trim. She’s that awful breed of person that is a born athlete, I believe. Candy and I are younger, but we’d both recently recovered from being infected by a hostile organism and massive doses of poison. Plus I’d had Anrel. We go a little slower, me particularly so.

  We were on our run this morning, huffing and puffing our way around the ship. Betra was taking care of Anrel, so I was able to concentrate on the workouts that were coming. Or I would have been, except Resan jogged along behind us. Insults as usual were the order of the day, taking me out of what might have otherwise been an invigorating exercise and turning it into torture.

  “Earthers are so weak. What a waste of skin. Is this the best you weaklings can do? Shalia, if you go any slower I’m going to run over you. Pick your feet up! This isn’t a sightseeing tour!”

  It certainly wasn’t his best insulting, but imagine this monologue going on the ENTIRE RUN. Nonstop. He ran right behind me, practically snarling in my ear, telling me I wasted his time, I was lazy, I was worthless, I was ... well, pick your most demeaning term. Meanwhile I’ve learned to not hold back in my efforts. I paced myself because I was determined to make the entire distance. Sweet prophets, the hell Resan would have given me if I couldn’t finish the distance he’d assigned for the day. But I can say with no second thoughts whatsoever that I worked hard.

  I wanted to be strong. I saw big changes in my body at long last. The pooch of my post-pregnancy belly was melting away. I was developing toned muscles where I’d never had them even at my healthiest. Exercise was a kind of drug once I had gotten past how much I hated doing it. Now I looked forward to making my body move, to seeing it firm up and get stronger. I might have even enjoyed the actual work if it wasn’t for the hateful creature who was in charge of making me fit.

  “Why don’t you just give up? You’re never going to amount to anything. This is a waste of everyone’s time and energy.”

  I enjoyed visions of my fist punching that blathering mouth. I kept going.

  Today’s route took us through the ship’s central area. The promenade is a large circular space. In the center is a fantastic hologram of the star system that makes up the Kalquorian Empire. Shops and clubs line the walkway for use of the crew and passengers.

  Knowing Resan the way I do, I kept my eyes on Candy’s back as I jogged around the floating sun and the planets that orbited it. I didn’t look at the pretty hologram, a constant reminder to the crew of what greater good they worked for. I didn’t look at the people we passed and I didn’t acknowledge calls of hello or encouragement. I didn’t look at the stores that carried mostly goods for Kalquorian men, though a few things were there for us Earther girls too. I didn’t look in the direction of our now-finished dance club that would celebrate its opening tonight. I most especially didn’t look at the black door of the pleasure club that sat next door to it.

  I focused on giving Resan as little ammo to attack me with, not that he ever needed any. Which he abruptly proved in a new, humiliating twist.

  I damned near jumped out of my skin when his voice blared as loud as an announcer with a microphone. “Move it, Shalia Monroe! Look at the little Earther princess, trying to run!”

  Now I looked around. It was the start of day shift, and the night shift was taking care of errands as they came off work. That meant there was plenty of the Kalquorian crew moving about. Of course Resan’s amplified carnival barker voice got their attention.

  I heard snickers and saw amused grins all around as Resan kept running that mouth of his. “Look at this pathetic creature. Lusgo worms move faster than her! I walk faster than you run, Tragoom meat!”

  I located the big hateful jerk, who had moved from behind me to trot along a few feet to my right. At least he had to do that much, not walking as he claimed. Still, it was a slow trot for Resan’s long legs.

  I guess if my vision wasn’t so blurred by hatred I’d think him attractive. Instead, I like to pick out his physical shortcomings. His eyes are too big and round. His nose a bit too pointy. I’ve seen handsomer.

  He spoke into a silvery square box as he stared directly at me. Yep, a voice amplifier. Son of a bitch.

  “Shalia Monroe, slowest woman in the universe. My grandmother, may she live forever, runs faster than you.”

  I rolled my eyes. “In her best gown,” I added with him. Resan must have been running out of insults because he was starting to repeat himself.

  It was still embarrassing. My face was hot and not from exertion. My stomach did a slow, sick roll the way it always did when I was put down in front of others. I’d be lying if I didn’t admit I felt the urge to cry as Resan continued to ridicule me in front of so many people, braying it loud and echoing throughout the promenade.

  This was the kind of thing that excited Betra? This horrible humiliation that made me feel small and insignificant? Pathetic? I would never judge my Imdiko lover for his urges, but I sure didn’t get it. Not one bit.

  I didn’t cry. I didn’t react. I grimly kept running. We finally left the ship’s center to finish our run in Resan’s training room.

  We got there, us three women gasping for air. My legs shook as I went up to the stack of hourglass shaped grav-bells. I selected one and dialed it to ten pounds. Candy and Katrina walked to opposite ends of the room, walking off the
tightness in their muscles after the run. The mirror in front of me showed Resan swaggering up from behind me. He still held the voice amplifier.

  I turned, pivoting on the ball of one foot, my arm arcing around. I released the grav-bell, aiming it for Resan’s chest. He’s too damned tall for me to have gone for his head.

  Those big eyes of his widened even more as he jerked to one side to avoid getting hit. I dashed forward while he dodged the grav-bell. I aimed a kick at the hand holding the amplifier. Direct hit. Oses would have been proud to see me execute his training so well.

  The little silver box dropped from Resan’s hand and landed on the floor. I stomped it and felt it give way under my running shoe with a satisfying crunch. I glared into Resan’s stunned face.

  “If you ever pull a stunt like that again, next time it will be your mouth that gets smashed,” I snarled. “Don’t you ever humiliate me like that.”

  “Oh, was the little princess embarrassed? Were her feelings hurt?” Resan sneered, recovering from his surprise in a hurry.