by Regine Abel
“I’m always happy to extend my good fortune to the clans,” I said, with a mocking grin of my own.
His smile faded.
To elitists like Gerwin, my growing wealth and power were insulting. Mutts should be grunts. My success further highlighted Gerwin’s ineptitude and failures. He had no accomplishments of his own; he lived off the success and wealth of his father’s clan.
“Glad to hear it,” Gerwin said, his eyes falling to Grace. He licked his thick lips. “You’ve brought additional entertainment. How generous of you. I wouldn’t mind a better look.” He turned to the other Braxians. “How about you?”
“She looks like a nice piece,” Toran said.
“Yeah,” Jarvis said, “I wouldn’t mind seeing how fluffy that tail is.”
Pattel pursed his lips but said nothing. Grace’s eyes weighed heavy on me. I ran my hand through the silky strands of her hair. She was trembling. Her fear should have pleased me, not put a nauseous cramp in the pit of my stomach. Keeping my face neutral, I ran my thumb over her lips. My eyes warned that I wouldn’t tolerate disobedience.
“My friends want a better look at you, Grace. Why don’t you show them what a lovely pet you are? Go on, they won’t hurt you.” I unhooked the gold chain leash from her collar.
Grace swallowed and I felt her hand clench around my ankle before she rose to her feet. She was statuesque, with legs for days, perfectly round ass, flat stomach, impertinent perky breasts, flawless luminescent skin, and the face of a goddess.
My woman…
I couldn’t help puffing my chest at the Braxians mesmerized expressions. Braxians considered human women willful, independent creatures, but beautiful nonetheless. Human women wanted nothing to do with Braxians, both because they considered us too ugly and demanded equality. I couldn’t blame them, but they’d never get that on Braxia. To own a human female, obedient, submissive and as gorgeous as Grace, was considered a great feat and a great source of pride.
Grace approached Pattel and stood facing him for a few seconds before slowly turning so he could admire every side. Once she completed her rotation she looked at him for his permission to move on. He lifted a massive hand and caressed the length of her upper arm with his knuckles. He dropped his hand and reclined in his plush chair. A slight nod indicated she could go. His touch had been gentle but watching her before him made me understand her plea earlier.
My whole life, I despised women as selfish bitches. You could say I had mommy issues. Like Grace, my mother indentured herself to my father to get out of a bind. Three months into the one-year contract, she became pregnant despite her contraceptive implant. Once my father found out, he forbade the termination. As she was under contract, she had to obey. I was born premature, three weeks before the end of her contract. In exchange for bringing me to term, my father released her early. I never saw or heard from her.
Now, looking at Grace moving towards Gerwin, I couldn’t even fathom how my mother had managed to take my father, to begin with. Braxians were too big. How did he not split her in two? Like with Pattel, Grace stopped before Gerwin and rotated. As soon as she had her back to him, Gerwin placed his hand on her ass. His hand was so big, it almost covered it fully. I clenched my teeth so as not to tell him to unhand her.
“Hmmm, very nice,” Gerwin said, rubbing his hands over her body.
Grace bit her lip but otherwise withstood his attentions stoically. He grabbed one of her breasts and gave it a rough squeeze. She winced. I watched her face for further signs of distress but there were none. Gerwin’s hand was on the move again. It slid over her stomach before forcing its way between her legs. She needed to part them to accommodate its size. Her eyes flew to my face, but I only spared her a quick look before focusing on how the bastard was handling her.
“How tight are you, little slave?” Gerwin said rubbing a thick finger against her pussy.
My hand gripped the edge of my seat’s cushion, fighting the urge to rip his arms off. He roughly pushed a finger inside her and she yelped in pain.
“Careful!” I snarled. “I allowed you to look, not damage her.”
“My apologies,” he said, smirking. “I assumed you had stretched her already. But then, it is true you don’t share a true Braxian’s girth.”
I ignored the chuckling from Toran and Jarvis.
Gerwin pulled his finger out of her slowly, then licked it. He didn’t break eye contact with me. I gestured with my head for Grace to move. She didn’t hesitate. Leaning back in my seat, I crossed my legs and dusted non-existent lint off my pants. I cast a swift glance at Toran who clumsily caressed her legs as she turned around for him, before setting my eyes back on Gerwin.
“I realize that until this moment, you’ve never touched a human female, let alone fucked one,” I said. “Having bedded more than my fair share, I can tell you unless you intend to tear them, you have to start gently until they adjust to your girth.”
“To hell with gentle!” Gerwin spat. “After her offense on Jeruna, she should be begging for any sliver of kindness she gets. Any true Braxian would have fucked her cunt to a pulp for the disrespect she showed your clan, then stuffed her throat full of his cock so she never speaks another insult again.”
Grace’s eyes widened, pausing mid-rotation in front of Jarvis. She blinked, her forehead wrinkling in concentration as she tried to piece the clues together. She still hadn’t figured out what she had done. How could anyone be so clueless of the harm they caused others?
“It would have been too bad to wreck such a pretty pussy,” Jarvis said, rubbing his thumb over her slit. “She must be nice and snug. Her throat though, why didn’t you silence her like Darla? You could enjoy fucking her mouth.”
Grace slapped a hand over her mouth, her eyes bugging in horror. At last, she remembered. Now, the real game of retribution would begin.
“The answer to your comment,” I said looking at Gerwin, “and question,” I continued, looking at Jarvis, “is the reason why I am the one who built the Hive empire, and not either of you.” I gestured to Grace. “Come here, pet.” While she approached, I turned back to Gerwin. “I could take your approach and break her in one night like a rabid beast. Or, I could take mine and get to fuck the sexiest pussy you’ve ever seen, every day, anytime I want, any way I want, and wherever the hell I want.”
Once Grace stood before me, I rested my arms on the backrest of the couch and spread my legs just enough for her to fit between them, never breaking eye contact with Gerwin. She got down on her knees and reached for the magnetic clasp of my pants. I couldn’t repress the mocking smile stretching across my lips when Gerwin clenched his jaw, spite burning his muddy brown eyes.
“You see that, Jarvis?” I said waving at Grace sucking me off. “You don’t mess with a mouth like that. Not only does she give the best head this side of the galaxy, but she’s also got decent pipes on her. Once I’ve had my fill, and she’s completed her vocal training, she’ll be the hottest ticket on this bucket.”
I fisted my hand in her hair while she bobbed up and down on my shaft with the energy of despair.
“Watch and learn, Gerwin. This is how you teach them respect. She said she’d never let a stinking hybrid cock anywhere near her. Look at her now. Every fucking day, she sucks my cock, swallows my cum, and rides my dick. And when I’m done stretching that tight little ass of hers, I’ll be fucking the hell out of that too. Isn’t that right, pet?”
Eyes brimming with tears, she paused her ministrations long enough to whimper, “Yes, Master.”
“Good girl,” I said, swallowing the bitter bile of shame and self-disgust wrenching my gut.
Pattel chuckled, his broad shoulders shaking with the deep, rumbling sound. “Now that is impressive, young Anton. I have seen many well-trained human females, but none so stunning, let alone this skillful. You have done well for yourself. Your honor has been masterfully regained. I will apprise the clans of your accomplishment.”
I smiled, triumphant at the prai
se. Pattel was a respected elder on Braxia. With his testimony, my dishonor would be cleared. It took three years after that fateful day when Grace publicly humiliated me for the shunning of my clan to be lifted. Three years because three stupid girls thought to amuse themselves at my expense.
Despite my warring emotions about Grace, Gerwin, and this whole messed up situation, her lips on me were divine. I wanted to surrender myself to their blissful caress, but not without tending to my guests first. I waved a waitress over.
“Yes, Mr. Myers,” she said with deference, pretending not to see Grace deep-throating me.
“Please bring us three bottles of your finest wine, and I would have each of my guests well taken care of.” I gave the waitress a meaningful glance towards Grace.
“Of course, Mr. Myers,” the waitress said with a bright smile. “Drinks and entertainment coming right up.”
Seconds later, four reasonably pretty girls lined up in front of the Braxians and went to work on their cocks, too massive to fit their mouths. Despite that, Gerwin gave me a begrudging nod of appreciation. Satisfied that my host duties were fulfilled, I gave myself over to the pleasure of Grace’s expert lips.
CHAPTER 8
Grace
Last night had been a fucking nightmare.
Stupid, stupid, stupid girl.
Anton didn’t give two shits about me. He hated me. He didn’t want me maimed the same way one takes care of a favorite sex toy. And that whole spiel about training me to advance my career? It had never been about me. He always intended to continue taking advantage of me once our contract was up.
I’m such a fucking idiot.
I wanted him to care. If I could start caring about his brutish face, why the hell couldn’t he like me? Why couldn’t anyone love me? Granted, I wasn’t the most educated chick in the world but I wasn’t a bad person. I was loyal, dependable, and did what I was told. Why couldn’t that be enough? Alright, I fucked up back in Jeruna. But dammit, we were kids! It was just a stupid joke. I had gotten in trouble so many times in those days and done far dumber things than that. Who would have imagined it would be the one to come back and haunt me?
Back then, Darla and Steffie were wannabes like me. Both had their own shows while I mostly did opening acts. Darla even did a few guest appearances in elite clubs. The three of us were hanging out when a delegation of Braxians showed up, apparently there to conclude some big business deal. Although I had seen Braxians before, they always scared the shit out of me. They were colossal, hulking guys with massive everything. And their faces… holy fuck! They looked like those neant… neon… nerthal… whatever the hell those cavemen were called, with big, brutish faces.
I thought they looked fugly but as long as they didn’t bother me, it was all good. Darla and Steffie couldn’t seem to leave the subject alone. They were your typical vanilla pretty, popular girls, top of the in-crowd, and I wanted in. So I laughed with them, bitched with them, strutted like them. And boy did they strut. They made it a point to flaunt their stuff in front of the Braxians and glared when they looked.
Marcus didn’t like me hanging out with the girls. He said they were trouble, but their connections could boost my career. There was one funny looking Braxian – a half-breed – that kept staring at me whenever I went to the bar or bathroom. While bigger than a human, he looked scrawny compared to the other Braxians. His face wasn’t as messed up as the purebloods, with his Braxian traits being less pronounced, but that still didn’t make him pretty. Marcus believed he had the hots for me which I thought sounded pretty gross.
Like an idiot, I told the girls what Marcus said. They figured it’d be funny to lead the hybrid on a bit and see if he would work up the courage to talk to me. It was a shitty thing to do. However, being my stupid, eager-to-please self, I went along with it. I thought once he made a move, I’d tell him to fuck off, we’d laugh at his embarrassment and call it a day.
How fucking naïve.
Darla made me rehearse the lines I’d say when he approached me. They were pretty hurtful. If only I’d listened to Marcus and stayed away from the girls, none of this would have happened. I remembered only wanting to get it done and over with. It turned out Darla planted her wireless microphone on me without me noticing. When the half-breed came to talk to me after I’d teased him one too many times, she aired my whole rejection speech on the com. Everyone heard. I was mortified. He was livid. For a minute, I thought he might beat me. I ran.
The girls, however, didn’t think we’d done enough. They went on talking shit about Braxians for a while longer, making ape sounds until someone eventually cut the feed. Marcus dragged me out of there, screaming. He didn’t let me leave my room for three days. I thought he was way overreacting. Yeah, it had been kind of cruel, but no one died. By the time he let me out, the Braxians were long gone and so were the girls. I never heard from them again, their careers having apparently burnt out overnight. It wasn’t rare in our industry, but I wondered back then if they’d gotten blacklisted over that little stunt.
That was six years ago. Now, however, I feared they had fallen victim to Anton’s trampled honor. Honestly, I had forgotten about that incident. Despite being a shitty prank, Jeruna had been such a minor thing – at least to me – compared to some of the other idiotic stunts I allowed myself to get lured into back then. Not once did I consider the possible consequences. To think Anton nurtured his rage and resentment for all these years…
Anton and I hadn’t spoken since the party last night. He was already up and off to work by the time I woke. Somehow, I needed to fix this. But above all, I needed to know how far he intended to take his revenge. From what I’d heard in recent years, Braxians were really anal about honor and respect. The violence suggested last night by his friends freaked me out.
My worry escalated when I noticed the little present Anton left by my sleeping cushion: an anal plug bigger than the cat tail and a bottle of lube. His promise to fuck my ass haunted me. Anton was big. Really big. This was one tumble I wasn’t looking forward to. Seeing how he was hell-bent on revenge, he wouldn’t be gentle. Not after last night.
Our contract would hold up in any court in this galaxy. I couldn’t flee. The consequences in the Eastern Quadrant for breaching an indentured servant contract were far too dire. I could only hope that if I took whatever punishment he had in store for me without a fuss, it would be a one off. Then we could go back to the way things were last week, when he was nice.
Yeah, keep dreaming.
My alarm went off, reminding me that my first vocal training session would start in thirty minutes. How was I going to do that with all this mess in my head? Anton insisted I find my own trainer and start doing things for myself. Dana, the receptionist, saved me. I liked her a lot. She was friendly, smart, resourceful and always willing to help. She didn’t do the work for me but helped me narrow down a list of viable mentors and got me their contacts.
Most turned out to be pretty stuffy. They’d ask me to perform for them to evaluate my level. It didn’t take a genius to see they weren’t impressed. Yet, they were all eager to become my trainer, no doubt to garner Anton’s good favor. However, I wasn’t interested in a teacher trying to score points with my lover. Scratch that, with my master. I wanted someone genuinely interested in helping me out.
That someone was Romero.
He was the sixth trainer out of the seven I lined up. I liked him instantly. Tall and skinny, his body looked like it got confused as to what gender he was supposed to be halfway through puberty, and settled for the status quo instead. Romero was a pretty man, with a baby face and an easy smile. That he also didn’t look down on me after my performance sealed the deal.
Now wasn’t the time to reminisce though. I needed to get ready.
It took me nearly five minutes of cringing, cussing and half the bottle of lube to get the damn plug in my rear. Another ten minutes to walk without showing – too much – that I had something huge up my ass. Then I went to meet Romero. T
he auditorium sat on the ground floor of the penthouse complex. Dana reserved it for me, two hours every day.
Like Anton, Romero thought my voice sounded good. Actually, he loved my voice and said it would be amazing once I learned some vocal techniques. That gave me a much needed mental boost after my crappy week. My repertoire and performance, however… He made me swear to dump every bit of it and never speak of either again. I should have thrown a tantrum. Instead, I laughed.
I missed laughing.
We devoted the first hour and a half to singing techniques: posture, breathing, vocalizations, and diction. In the upcoming weeks, we would work on sound coloration and vocal effects once I mastered the basics. I couldn’t wait to rock the same kind of vibrato Seria used during her performance. We dedicated the last thirty minutes to – yawn – theory.
“Focus, young lady,” Romero said with a friendly scowl. “It may not be as fun as working your vocal techniques, but it’s just as important. Now, why do you think your ‘performances’ never landed you a contract in the elite clubs?”
“Well that’s a no-brainer,” I said. “My show is a slut fest. The elite is too stuck up for that level of sexy.”
Romero shook his head. “That’s not true, and you know better. Everyone wants sex, but there’s a difference between fucking and making love.”
My stomach knotted at his words. They echoed almost perfectly what Anton said on our first date… Well, our first time out at the restaurant that felt like a date. I wanted that Anton back.
“The elite doesn’t want to be caught watching porn. It’s unseemly,” Romero continued, not having noticed my dampened mood. “That’s why you need to give them the same level of excitement by wrapping it into a more palatable presentation. They need to be able to brag about watching your performance in fancy circles, for its elegance, its eloquence, its pizazz,” he said with a flourish.