by Hana Starr
The part of her brain that was still horrified at everything that had transpired in a scant few hours out of her day thus far knew that she was only so trusting of Ordar because he was the only one that had been nice to her, in spite of the fact that he was her captor. Throw a little Stockholm's Syndrome into the mix, and she was bound to end up like this, she reasoned. And yet, he wasn't treating her like a prisoner, like a slave; as he looked down on her with kind eyes and slicked himself with her quim she could only feel implicit trust in this other worldly being hovering above her.
She shuddered as he eased himself into her. She could feel his erection, wide and long, stretching her beyond what she had thought was her capacity. Tears sprang up in the corners of her eyes at the slight pain that came with being so thoroughly filled by him but she blinked them away frantically, desperate to put on a front that didn't betray how she felt.
She needn't have bothered, it would seem; he stilled inside her when he had buried himself to the hilt in her tight channel. She felt more than heard his groan of pleasure, his body shivering pleasantly at the way that she closed down on him. Still, he would not move, forcing his eyes open and looking down at her.
“Tell me when I can move.” He said, not making it a question that she could answer with a lie. She swallowed and nodded. “Take your time. Adjust.” He said, his voice still even and calm in spite of the way that he shook with her every pulse.
After a little while, what pain she felt settled, and all she felt was full. That, and the need for friction, for release. She nodded to him again, and he took it for the signal that it was, easing himself out almost entirely before thrusting back into her. Her entire body felt like it was on fire, little electric volts shooting up her legs and channeling themselves into her core, where she already felt her second orgasm building itself back up within her.
Her back arched into his thrusts as he pulled up hips up onto his lap, changing the angle to the point that every thrust was now hitting her most sensitive spot. She wailed at the ecstasy building in her. His hips moved like a well oiled piston, and it wasn't long before his timing stuttered. She wasn't sure whether to take that as a sign that he was close to his own completion or not, but couldn't help the small swell of pride in her chest as he panted. He suddenly bent over, his broad arm scooping her torso up and lifting her by the shoulders so that no part of her was touching the bed. It was only him, he was all that she could feel.
"I want to hear you again.” His thrusts grew harder and more erratic, and she felt herself piquing again, teetering on the precipice of pleasure. All she wanted in that moment was to plummet off of that point, to let herself be lost in the sensation again.
"Ah... ah... Ordar...” she wheezed between her panting, hands desperately clutching at his back while trying to make sure that she didn't scratch him. “I-I’m, I'm... oh god!“ The coil snapped once again, and all she knew was the way that she clenched around him, and how his body's cool temperature quenching the white hot heat that consumed her. A feeling that was only reinforced as he filled her with his seed, a liquid that felt even colder than he did and coated her walls. The sensation was indescribable, and she felt her head spin from the way it made her feel.
Gently, he eased himself out of her and laid her back onto the bed. She felt limp and boneless, like there wasn't an ounce of energy left in her from the experience, and it was all that she could do to look at him through glassy eyes as he smoothed her sweat slicked hair away from her face. His cool skin felt marvelous on her feverish face, and she reveled in the touch as she came down from her high.
“You performed admirably, Oracle,” he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I will go and report to the captain with your success.”
“Are you going to stay my guardian?” She asked quietly as he stood and tapped at his wrist again, bringing his armor and rifle back.
“Of course.” He said simply as he walked to the door. “I will return after my report. Rest now, Oracle.” With that he left.
As the reality of what her life was going to be set in, she pulled the blanket on the bed over her naked form, suddenly wanting to hide her defiled body from the world. The numbness that had gotten her this far suddenly gave way to self loathing and fear of the uncertainty that she still faced.
She took what comfort she could glean from the softness and warmth of the blanket when a thought occurred to her. She took a look at her wrist, still shimmering from the glove, and lightly tapped it. Instantly, a menu came up for her, with actions translated into English already for her. She tapped on an icon that had clothing on it, relieved that she had options for clothing that the gloves could give her.
She could guess that they had already been stored on there in preparation of having human workers, but in that moment couldn't find it in herself to care how this small blessing had been bestowed upon her. She chose the sleepwear option, relieved that the gloves conjured a pair of comfortable cotton sleeping bottoms and a shirt that felt too familiar to be as new as it was to her.
Still, she was grateful that she could have even this, however small a comfort that it was. In that moment, the thought that a pair of pajamas that had been magicked onto her body through an alien piece of technology was the best comfort that she could have broke what little of a mask she had been putting on to protect herself, and all she wanted to do was hide. Curling into a ball, she found that all she had left in her were tears, and so she shed them until she felt hollow.
Chapter 4
Mary hadn't even realized that she had fallen asleep until she blearily opened her eyes a while later. Part of her had hoped that it was all a crazy dream, that drinking too much coffee before bed had just messed with her head and she could just go about her day pretending that she hadn't had a weird secret fetish induced dream. But when her eyes came into focus and she saw that she was looking up into the cold metal ceiling of the ship she had been abducted on, and she felt the ache between her legs confirming how very real it all had been, everything crashed down around her all over again.
Just when she started to bring the blanket back up over her head and try to pretend that she could have just gone back to bed, she heard a slight shuffling beside the bed, a little bit away from her. She peeked through the blanket to see what it was, surprised that Ordar was sitting in a desk chair across from the bed, at the desk pressed against the other wall, calmly cleaning his weapon.
“You are awake.” She let out a quiet squeak as he spoke up. “You do not have to leave the bed, but I know that you are awake.” She pulled the blanket back enough to poke her head out, blinking widely at him.
“I just... woke up.” She said lamely. She looked around for something to indicate the time but could find nothing. “What... what time is it?”
“It is well into the night.” He answered, running a polishing rag over one of the parts to his dismantled gun. “I am surprised that you awoke at all.”
“I still feel like I could sleep, to be honest.” She said, curling into the blanket again. While she still felt physically exhausted, she couldn't help the way that her mind whirred with unsolved questions. “Did your captain say that it was okay?”
“Hm?” Ordar looked up, his hand stilling in its work. “Oh. This is in relation to you becoming my Oracle.” She nodded. “He approved it upon the conclusion of my report.” He said, turning back to his rifle. “Truly, I was not concerned. I knew that you would pass.”
“What do you mean?”
“You take instructions well.” He replied immediately. “You adapt quickly, and do not lose your composure when it counts.” He clicked the parts of his gun back together, reassembling the weapon in record time. “These are admirable traits no matter what your role is in the Empire. So I knew that you would do fine.”
“Even though I'm a human?” He laughed softly.
“Even though you are a human.” He confirmed. She pulled the blankets around her.
“...Why have you been so kind to me?” She fina
lly managed to ask the question that burned the most in her mind through all of this. He set his rifle down with a sigh.
“I might be a warrior, a defender of the Almer Empire, but that does not make me cruel.” He looked at her, and though his eyes held no pupils and glowed, there was a sympathy that swirled in his eyes that made him appear more human to her than he had before. “I know that it is hard to see the Almer as anything other than ruthless, but the Empire was founded on the idea of meritocracy.” He sighed. “You cannot have useful people willing to work for you if you are cruel.”
“Your captain mentioned that the Empire needed laborers,” Mary recalled, snuggling into her blanket even further. “Are they dying? Or is your Empire just growing?” Ordar didn't answer immediately, and she wondered how true either statement was, if not both. Or some other reason that he either didn't know or couldn't say.
“There are many factors.” He finally said, rising from the chair and coming to sit on the bed next to her. Even though there were several layers between them, his presence was oddly comforting. “There are those that die because the labor is too much on them. There are those who fight against their guardians, and those who simply buckle under the work that they are given.” He placed his hands on the bed on either side of him. “And with the Empire growing at the rate that it has, there's only so much that we can do, apart from colonize other planets and use other species for labor.”
“But must you?” She asked quietly. He turned to look at her. “I understand an Empire expanding, and the need for colonization of different planets. That's what even us humans were looking into for our future.” She gripped the edge of her soft blanket like a lifeline. “But to take others and use them as slaves...” she shook her head. “Where's the good in that?”
“The gears of industry are often oiled with the blood of its workers.” Ordar said with a soft sigh. “It has been this way for all of my life. It is simply another part of our society.”
“But is it the right thing to do?” She asked softly. “Wouldn't creating job opportunities that didn't equate to being forced into slavery garner goodwill and loyalty to the Empire? Wouldn't the reassurance that they wouldn't likely die make them want to work harder?” He was silent as she asked these question, and even though her voice was barely above a whisper, it felt like she was shouting into the quiet of the room. She noticed that he was frowning, and she feared that she might have pushed things too far.
“I do not know.” He finally murmured, and she finally recognized the look on his face as one that spoke of a facet of the world that he grew up in coming into question, that a core tenant of the society that he was raised in might be corrupt or inherently amoral. He was, perhaps not for the first time, questioning a part of his society that had simply been taken as an ordinary part of the every day.
“I...” She shied into the covers and pillow, worried that she might have overstepped her boundaries. “I'm sorry.”
“It is not for you to apologize for.” He said softly. “It is something that my society will have to one day look at what it took to make the Empire powerful... and ask themselves if it was worth the cost.” He bowed his head, as if the weight of his thoughts were too great for him to hold his head high any longer.
“It...” she snuck her hand out and placed it atop his. He turned to look at their hands, now layered atop one another. “It sounds like this isn't the first time you've wondered about this.”
“I wonder about many things.” He said in a voice that spoke of a tiredness that rarely came without feeling older than their years. It was a feeling that she could relate to, at least in some capacity. More often than not, she had to remind herself that she was only twenty – seven, and had her whole life ahead of her.
He slipped his hand out from under hers, only to lace their fingers together and hold her hand just tightly enough to press their palms flatly together. It almost felt like he was trying to get what comfort he could from just her hand. He pursed his lips, as if his thoughts turned bitter in his mouth, and he chose not to say anything because of it. So, they simply held hands in silence for a while.
“How are you feeling through all of this?” He finally asked, his tone still gentle and inquisitive. “I cannot imagine that this has been an easy transition.”
“It hasn't been.” She admitted, her voice muffled by the blanket. “Less than a full day ago, I was living my life. It might have been boring and ordinary and utterly pedestrian compared to some others, but it was mine.” She did her best to hold back her tears but couldn't stop them from leaking onto her pillow. “Now, I feel like I'm just trying to keep it going, even though it doesn't belong to me anymore.”
“I cannot blame you for feeling the way that you do.” He said after a moment. “But I promise you this,” he turned to face her fully, reaching out with his free hand to wipe away her tears. “This is still your life. It is just new. And once you get used to it, it will be fulfilling in the Empire.”
“Has your life been fulfilling?” She asked. The hand that had come to rest on her cheek flinched, like it was a question he had been putting off answering because he didn't like the idea of what that answer would likely be.
“I have a feeling,” he said with a tired smile. “That it will be soon.” She flushed at the tender way that he was looking down at her. Before she could fully form the thought to ask him what he meant, he pulled his hands away from her. While they were cool to the touch, she felt strangely colder without them. “This room is only temporary.” He said, looking around the room. “In the morning cycle, you and I will be moved to shared quarters, where the both of us can step into our new roles.”
“This is new to you?” He nodded.
“I was nothing but a soldier before this operation. One of many that would likely be forgotten by name but remembered by sacrifice to the Empire.” He sighed. “But in proving my worth and my ability in this operation, I have been given, 'Guardian,' status, now that I have an Oracle to protect.”
“Was that why I-”
“You would have passed whether or not I was given status as a Guardian.” He answered her question before she had even finished asking it. “Your skills were more than enough. I was going to be given status as a Guardian whether or not you passed.” He sighed again. “You passing simply meant that I was able to choose you as my Oracle.” She nodded, taking his hand in hers again.
“Have you slept?” He shook his head. “Would you stay with me? I would feel better.”
“Would you.” It didn't seem like a question, but she felt compelled to answer it anyway.
“You're the only one I've really talked to, but you've been kind to me. And you didn't make me feel uncomfortable during my trial, even though it might have made your job easier.” She looked up at him. “I know that you would keep me safe. So I feel safe when you're near.” He was quiet for a long time, and only spoke up just as she was beginning to take his silence for rejection.
“Your honestly humbles me.” He said simply, and opted not to elaborate as he leaned down and took up the outer half of the bed. The mattress was wide enough to accommodate the both of them comfortably, a fact that surprised her.
Still, she opened her blanket up and shared it with him, once again surprised that it had turned out to be as wide and long as it had been – when she wrapped it around herself, all she had been concerned with was that it was warm. The blanket seemed to thaw the chill in his skin, as when she pressed against him, she couldn't feel the usual difference in their temperature. Still, it was nice to feel his weight between her and the door, as if he could protect her from anything that came through it that might come in and hurt her.
“Rest now.” He said as he closed his eyes. She watched in awe as the faint glow in his hair died down, making it appear a deep shade of violet as opposed to its normal lilac. “Tomorrow is when our new lives begin together.” She nodded.
“Together.” She said softly as she closed her eyes. As she drifted off to sl
eep, she wondered why that sounded so nice to her.
Chapter 5
True to Ordar's word, when the morning cycle began, they were ushered out of the cramped quarters that they had slept in and were escorted to a more permanent arrangement. Mary was only hoping for a bed like the one that she slept in the night before, given how soft and comfortable it was. Ordar confessed to her on the way there that he was hoping for his own weapons rack, and the childlike hope that glimmered in his gaze had her holding back a giggle.
The permanent quarters that they were given, however, exceeded both of their expectations. Considering they were on a warship, their living area was spacious, with half of the room raised up by a step with a bed that somehow looked even softer than the one they had used last night. On the lower half of the room was, presumably, where Ordar would work and rest, with a work table that doubled as a place for him to store his weapons. While the place was the same cold metal colors, it felt a little more like a place that could be lived in.
The soldier that had escorted them to the room glared daggers at Mary before muttering something to Ordar and all but storming out of the room. If the doors didn't shut on their own, he likely would have slammed it shut on his way out, just for good measure. Ordar raked a hand through his hair, and she could tell that he was muttering something, but for the life of her, she couldn't make out what was being sad.