Intergalactic Pain in the Ass

by Jaide Fox

  He sucked in a sharp breath as if in pain, enhancing the pleasure blooming inside her. “Touch my breasts,” she commanded, and he obeyed. He cupped her, squeezing her harder as she quickened her movement.

  She moaned, touching her own neck, the sides of her breasts, down her belly. Her pussy sizzled with a warning rupture of pleasure, zipping through her veins like a stroke of lightning. Gasping, she touched her clit, rubbing the swollen nub, needing that bliss that teased her endlessly with its nearness.

  He arched beneath her, releasing her breasts, gripping her hips. He lifted her off him, bringing her down hard on his erection. Cole screamed in agony and ecstasy, stroking her clit as if her life depended on it. He lifted her again, raising up as she came down, going deeper than she'd thought possible.

  It hurt so good.

  She arched her back, throwing her head back, coming down on him again and again, oblivious to the pain. Wanting and needing it.

  Her heart beat in her chest for freedom, rushing in her ears like thunder, making her throat ache. She screamed again and again, easing the pressure. “Oh master, master. Sharmin ... oh god!"

  Her clit throbbed beneath her fingers, spasmed with the warning of impending overload.

  He groaned, impaling her on his cock. Her inner muscles rippled as the orgasm seized her, shaking her in its grip. Her body went rigid as her pussy quaked, convulsing on his shaft as each blissful tremor erupted inside her. His seed burst forth in a volcanic rush, spewing the hot semen deep in her womb.

  She panted, dropping down on his chest, trying to keep from trembling apart. His shaft anchored her to him, and he wrapped his arms around her back, heaving for breath. Within minutes, she'd milked his body of all he had to give, and still, she wanted more.

  She was unmoving on top of him long enough to catch her breath, long enough to feel his member go flaccid inside her and slip out when she raised on him.

  Her vaginal lips twitched, itching for more. She looked up at him and smiled when she saw his eyes were closed and he was half asleep.

  She tickled his nose with a lock of his hair. He snorted and his eyes flew open.

  "I'm ready for more, please."

  He groaned.

  Chapter Seven

  It was like a hangover—except much worse. It wasn't just her head that was hurting fit to split wide open. Pain messages converged on Cole's brain from every direction. For a few minutes, she lay unmoving because she didn't think she could move, and because she wanted to be certain she just felt like she was dying, and actually wasn't, before she moved and possibly injured herself worse. Slowly, as she struggled to figure out what had happened, bits and pieces of memories began to flood back. At first, she was inclined to think it was all just some sort of dream—correction, erotic nightmare—or something like that. When she finally figured out that a good portion of the pain she was in was due to the fact that she had a tree sized body lying half across her—a naked one—she finally decided she was just going to have to accept that she'd actually done most of what she remembered doing.

  And she'd done it with Sharmin!

  Oh, for just a tiny portion of amnesia! Not serious brain damage, just enough to be able to avoid having to acknowledge what had happened.

  The urge to kill invaded her senses as the last webs of sleep dissipated.

  She hadn't suddenly lost her mind and decided to indulge herself in an orgy, especially not with Sharmin, whom she would have far preferred to neuter. The last thing she remembered was eating that strange fruit the nagy had given her, but she also remembered that all of them had been watching her eat it. She'd thought it was because of the phallic image, and the way she was eating it. Undoubtedly, there'd been more to it than that. Everyone, including Sharmin, had expected eating the fruit to have just the effect it had had.

  Fleetingly, she wondered if it was the drug in the fruit, or Sharmin, or a combination of the drug and Sharmin that had resulted in the best sex she'd ever had in her life.

  Probably just the drug.

  It was amazing, though, how much Sharmin reminded her of Hauk.

  The question was, what was she going to do about it?

  If she acknowledged that she remembered everything, she didn't think she'd be able to lie convincingly about the mind blowing sex she'd experienced, which would be an open invitation to Sharmin. He was bound to think, under the circumstances, that she'd welcome another encounter. She had to admit it would be tempting if she considered it strictly from a pleasurable point of view, but she didn't want to get anymore involved with Sharmin than she already was.

  That left her with only two options that she could see. She could acknowledge it had happened, put it down entirely to the drug and threaten to cut his balls off if he tried anything like that again.

  Or, she could pretend she didn't remember a thing, which would not only save face, but it would give her the opportunity for revenge for his underhanded trick.

  Since the very thought of getting even with him lifted her spirits considerably, she decided a pretense of amnesia was definitely the way to go.

  Opening her eyes finally, Cole looked cautiously around the crude hut she found herself in. With a great deal of relief, she saw that she and Sharmin were the only two people occupying it. Sharmin was still dead to the world and snoring slightly. She began inching away from him slowly and carefully. Finally, she managed to disentangle herself from him and got up. Her jumpsuit had been discarded across the room. Vaguely, she recalled peeling it off and tossing it. Picking it up, she shook it to make certain no small creatures inhabited it and tugged it on, working her feet into the boots.

  There was a stickiness—dried now—between her thighs that wasn't very pleasant, particularly since it sent echoes of remembered passion through her mind and made her warm all over. Cole quashed the feeling. She eyed Sharmin speculatively once she'd finished dressing and finger combing her hair. He was still unconscious. She was tempted to find something and beat him around the head and shoulders with it, but that'd make it hard to pretend amnesia.

  A thought finally occurred to her, however, and an evil smile curled her lips. Striding across the hut, she ‘tripped’ and came down on top of him, kneeing Sharmin in the solar plexus.

  "Oh! Master, I'm so sorry. I don't know why, but I'm just a little dizzy this morning. I tripped. Are you all right?"

  Sharmin was struggling to catch his breath, blinking at her blurry eyed. “All right,” he grunted, finally catching his breath. “You all right?"

  Cole struggled to her feet and stepped away from him, trying very hard not to look down at the third leg laying on his flat belly. No damned wonder she was sore! “Except for feeling like I've got a hangover—which is weird since I don't remember drinking anything last night. In fact, and this is even more weird, I can't remember anything that happened after we sat down to eat with the Nagy. Last thing I remember, I was sitting around the table eating, and then woke up here. I don't even remember getting here. Guess you brought me, huh?"

  Sharmin looked her over uneasily, but there was a look of vast disappointment on his features, as well. “You don't remember ... anything?” he insisted, sitting up on his elbows.

  Cole shook her head firmly, hiding her annoyance at finding him so cute and vulnerable when he first woke up. “Maybe it'll come back to me. Right now, all I can think about is taking something for pain. My head feels like it's going to explode. For that matter, I ache and hurt all over. I hope I'm not coming down with something,” she said, feeling her forehead with the back of one hand.

  Turning, she strode from the hut and descended the ladder, leaving him staring after her. Allowing herself a faint smile of satisfaction, she headed for the nearby stream. Lucky for her the Nagy were primitives, like Earth people, and used water for bathing.

  Stopping a short distance from the village, she dragged her jumpsuit off and waded out into the water. The water soothed her aching body and spirit. Even the headache receded to a more comfortable
level.

  Feeling more like herself, she climbed out once more and shook as much water from her body as she could, then sat down on a moss covered rock to wait until she'd dried enough to pull the jumpsuit on again.

  When she got back to the village, Sharmin, Fuzz and Sylo were eating breakfast. Sharmin favored her with a searching look, Fuzz and Sylo grinned at her like they knew a dirty secret. She felt like belting the three of them. Instead, she lifted her eye brows at Fuzz and Sylo. “What? Have I got dirt on my nose, or something?"

  Sylo's grin vanished abruptly. He glanced at Sharmin, then her, then concentrated on eating his food. Cole found that she wasn't particularly hungry, but she ate anyway—small portions of the fruit offered. She wasn't so certain she trusted anything on this planet anymore. She felt better once she'd eaten, though.

  When everyone had finished eating, the nagy brought baskets and they all went out to gather food to take with them. Sylo hung back, grasping Sharmin's elbow. “What gives? Last night she was screaming like a fonktol in heat. Today she acts like nothing happened."

  Sharmin shrugged. “She doesn't remember anything."

  "You're shittin’ me, man! Nothing?"

  Sharmin shook his head. “Guess not. It's probably a good thing. I'm thinking she'd be looking to cut my throat this morning if she did remember."

  Sylo slid a penetrating glance toward his friend. “Just the same, I'd be mighty disappointed to think that kind of performance was completely unappreciated."

  Sharmin flushed. “She appreciated it at the time,” he snarled irritably.

  "Yeah, but .... never mind,” he added at the look on Sharmin's face.

  Cole smiled grimly. Men! You could hear them whisper a half a mile away. At least she had the satisfaction of knowing Sharmin was vastly disappointed at her reaction.

  Strangely enough, though, she didn't really feel all that satisfied.

  Shaking the strange feelings, she concentrated on gathering food. The nagy had some food under cultivation and had gathered together several baskets for them, but nobody wanted to take much of their food for fear that the gentle people would end up suffering over the shortage. They'd finally agreed to take only a few and gather the rest themselves. The nagy had come along to help them gather it, and also to point out what was edible and what wasn't.

  They passed a passion fruit tree. Cole glanced at the fruit surreptitiously, but made no attempt to gather any of it because, when she looked around, she saw that Sharmin, Sylo and Fuzz were all looking the fruit over speculatively. She had every intention, however, of sneaking back and gathering a couple of the fruits.

  She wasn't through with Sharmin yet—not by a long shot, and as far as she was concerned, tit for tat was the best sort of revenge—she'd see how he liked being slipped the nagy's answer to Spanish Fly!

  Fortunately, the brush was thick. Once they'd paused and began gathering, everyone spread out, their attention on their task. Cole began working her way back toward the passion fruit tree, slowly, unobtrusively. When she realized she'd worked her way out far enough that she wasn't within sight of anyone, she moved more quickly.

  She damned near fell over Fuzz before she realized it. Catching herself in the nick of time, she ducked behind a thick bush, watching as Fuzz, after looking around carefully, grabbed a couple of passion fruits and shoved them into the basket, covering the fruit with the other food.

  When Fuzz turned and hurried back toward the gathering party, Cole slipped from behind the bush and moved closer to the tree, searching the ground for any fruit Fuzz might have missed. A sound in the tree drew her attention. Her heart skipped several beats when she thought about the little fury demons the nagy called whoopies. She was outraged when she saw that, instead of a whoopi, it was Sharmin—pulling passion fruit from a low hanging limp!

  That bastard! Well, forewarned was forearmed. She'd see who spiked whose food!

  As soon as he'd gathered a half a dozen, he dumped the contents of his basket onto the ground, tossed the passion fruit in and then scooped up the other fruits and piled them on top, then grabbed the basket and, as Fuzz had, trotted back toward the gathering party.

  Seizing the opening, Cole grabbed two off the ground and shoved them into her basket. She was tempted to try climbing the tree for more, but the snap of a twig told her that either Fuzz or Sharmin had come back for more or.... She caught a glimpse of Sylo as she ducked behind the tree.

  Jeez! They were going to have a fuck-fest if everybody spiked everybody else's food, she thought with a touch of hysterical amusement. She sobered instantly, however, when it suddenly occurred to her that she was the only female on the ship.

  Fury suffused her but vanished almost abruptly. How conceited was it to think they all meant to use it on her? No doubt Fuzz and Sylo had their own agenda—neither had ever shown any particular interest in her.

  Sharmin was another matter all together! The asshole!

  She had one distinct advantage over all of the rest of them. She was the only one who'd eaten any, which meant she was the only one who knew what it tasted like.

  When Sylo had gathered his share of the ‘forbidden’ fruit and headed back, Cole followed quickly behind him. She'd been gone longer than anyone else and ran the greatest risk of being caught—which wasn't part of her plan.

  To her relief, she managed to get close enough before they noticed she was missing and began calling for her to avoid too much suspicion. Circling around, she rushed back toward the group from the opposite direction. “Sorry. I didn't realize I'd wandered off so far,” she said, gasping slightly from the exertion of rushing with the heavy basket.

  Sharmin, looking a little pale, glared at her. “The last time you wandered off, you were captured by the whoopi. Next time, pay more attention to what you're doing."

  Cole was tempted to say something nasty, but it occurred to her with a touch of surprise that he looked like he'd actually been worried about her. “You're right. I should've been paying more attention to what I was doing."

  He studied her suspiciously for several moments, as if he was trying to decide if there was some underlying thread of sarcasm in her comments, but finally dismissed it. Gathering up their baskets, they all set out toward the ship once more. It was rough going. The planet was a tangle of vegetation and despite the fact that there was a trail of sorts most of the way, the undergrowth crowded close. They had to walk single file and still struggled with slapping branches and tripped over trailing vines. The baskets were heavy, which didn't make the trip any more enjoyable. Finally, however, they reached the ship late in the afternoon.

  After resting briefly, they set about storing the food. Cole was more inclined to rest a little longer, but she couldn't allow anyone to handle her stores without discovering her stash of passion fruit. Naturally, since everyone else was in the same boat as she was, and had their own stash to hide, nobody complained. With all of them working assiduously, and the nagy helping, they had the ship stocked with food in only a little while.

  When they'd finished, they bid the nagy farewell and settled down to rest a bit and discuss what to do next. Everybody was anxious to leave as soon as possible. They knew the Futts were probably still out looking for them, but they didn't want another encounter with the whoopi.

  "It'll be best to go in after dark. The primitives only have fire for light, so they're more inclined to settle down for the night pretty early,” Sharmin suggested. “We might need a distraction, though."

  Sylo frowned, then shrugged. “Two would be able to sneak in a lot easier than four."

  Sharmin gave him a look. “We've got better weapons, but we're outnumbered all to hell and gone, and those little bastards are not only fast, they're strong. We need all the man power we can muster."

  "So what happens if they pay the ship another visit while we're all off sneaking into the village? We've almost got the ship ready for take off. If they hit us again, we might come dashing back here and discover they've demolished the shi
p and we can't go anywhere. Then we really would be up shit creek without a paddle."

  Sharmin frowned. “You're right. I'll go. You three stay here, guard the ship and be ready to take off when I get back. I've got a feeling I'm going to have those little bastards right on my heels."

  Cole gave him a look. “You're going alone? With nobody to watch your back? That's chivalrous of you, Sharmin, but stupid! Two would have a better chance than one. I'll go as your back up. Fuzz and Sylo are needed here to get the ship ready, and to guard it. They don't need me."

  Sharmin's lips tightened. “It'd be easier if I didn't have to worry about you falling behind."

  Cole didn't know whether to be pleased about the fact that he was worried about her, or irritated than he seemed to think she was so useless. “They caught me off guard before. And I wasn't the only one that got caught,” she reminded him.

  Sharmin blushed. “I was drunk. If I hadn't been, they would never have caught me."

  Sylo, Fuzz and Cole all gave him a look, and he turned redder. “If you say so,” Sylo muttered. “But I think Cole's right. You need somebody to watch your back."

  Sharmin favored the trio with a sullen glare. “Fine. Suit yourself. Just don't hold me up. I plan on hitting them hard, fast, and getting the hell out of there. We should be back long before day break. As soon as it's dark enough that the whoopi have settled in for the night, I'm going in.” Getting to his feet, he stalked into the ship. When he returned several moments later, he was dressed in dark clothing and wearing two side arms.

  Cole didn't have a selection of clothes to choose from, but her jumpsuit was dark enough not to be a beacon in the night. To her surprise, Sharmin handed her one of the side arms he was carrying. “Just don't shoot me,” he snapped irritably, and turned and stalked away.