by Lee Savino
Mine.
All mine. Instinctively I know that from this point forward no other female will ever taste this sweet, will ever satisfy my craving or bring me as much satisfaction as my Tribute. I suck and lick voraciously and I can feel my armor buzzing along my spine, the nanotech beginning to respond to the addition of her cells within me.
"Please," she begs, her fingers sliding over my scalp, trying to find purchase. "Oh please..."
I do not know if she is asking me to stop or if she is asking for more, but for her sake I hope it is the latter... I could not stop if I wanted to.
And I don't want to.
Dawn
My ass is throbbing from the spanking, but the way he’s licking me—like he’s starving and I’m the first food he’s had in days—is making me throb and pulse in an entirely new way. I don’t know if alien tongues are different, but I know it feels different. My entire pussy is tingling, burning almost hot and then cold, and instinctively I know that something is happening that is different from anything else I’ve ever experienced before. It’d be terrifying if I weren’t so aroused.
He has no hair for me to grab and I can’t tell if I’m trying to push him away or pull him closer. My body is a maelstrom of sensation, my emotions conflicting with the greedy, needy ache that’s burgeoning inside of me. I want to be furious, I want to hate him, but either the Stockholmian training or the fact that he’s so focused on giving me pleasure is making it hard for me to feel either emotion right now.
It's like the orgasm I had out on the ramp never happened, and I whimper and sob, writhing for him like I’m in heat… which is exactly how I feel. I’m burning up inside, not just the surface of my ass, but from the inside out. I can feel the heat spreading outward from my pussy, making me shake and gasp at the unusual feeling.
When he sucks on my clit, hard, I cum almost immediately with a high, loud cry that is nearly a scream. I’d always thought that ‘screaming in orgasm’ was just exaggeration, but it’s like the intensity of the ecstasy is too great for my body to contain and the only way to release it is vocally. It pulses through me in waves, filling me, and yet not quite satisfying me, even as I am wracked with hot bliss.
Then he looms over me and I spread my legs further, reaching for him. Maybe it’s my training, maybe there’s just something in the animal part of my brain that’s running on instinct, but I need him inside me. Somehow, I know he’s the only one that can make this burning cease, the only one who can give me the satisfaction that my body is demanding. Even the long days of training, of being primed for him without ever being allowed to orgasm, hadn’t created this kind of desperate compulsion within me.
I honestly feel like I might die if we don’t finish this.
Tears rise in my eyes, and I choke on a scream as he thrusts into me, hard and fast, with one purposeful stroke. He’s big and oddly shaped and, even aroused as I am, the hot pleasure is mixed with some pain as my muscles contract around him, adjusting to the stretch that his proportions require. The little fringe of tentacles around his cock stroke my pussy lips, an incredibly odd and yet pleasurable sensation.
My back arches upwards as the long one slides around my clit, stroking and pulling at the tiny nubbin in much the same way his fingers had. His guttural groan as he shudders against me tell me that he’s feeling the same inexpressible pleasure at being joined together. My hands cling to his biceps, fingers attempting to dig into the steely flesh, as I pant for breath.
With one hand planted on either side of me, his large body feels like it’s caging me in, trapping me, and yet I feel oddly protected. He holds himself still, as if he realizes I need a moment. It’s not until I wriggle beneath him, in reaction to the insistent stroking of the little things he called his seela, that he begins to move.
The initial thrusts are deep, long strokes as he moves slowly, making me arch and pant at the hot sensation. He leans down and takes one of my nipples in his mouth, sucking and laving the sensitive bud with his tongue. It tingles with the same growing heat that my pussy had when he’d been licking it, and when he switches his attention to the other nipple the same thing happens.
It isn’t until he’s trailed his tongue up to my neck before claiming my mouth in a searing kiss that I realize I’m now tingling and burning everywhere that his tongue has touched. When he kisses me, I automatically kiss him back, our tongues rubbing together as my passion intensifies. He tastes like chocolate and fine red wine, igniting a craving that I don’t understand, and I become almost wild beneath him.
Strong hands pin my wrists to the bed as he begins to fuck me harder, his kisses swallowing my cries, my nipples rubbing against his hard chest as my sore ass bounces off of the sheets. Heat and pain and pleasure clash and mix, and I begin to feel lightheaded as the ache inside of me grows, my rising ecstasy climbing higher and higher. Being held helpless beneath him only increases my passion as he dominates me with nothing more than his weight holding me down.
I can cry out, I can writhe, I can take his cock… and that’s it. The kiss ends as his strokes become more wild, leaving my lips burning.
His strange cock rubs along the inside of my walls, and I swear I can feel the head flaring, moving separately from the thrusting, stimulating the sensitive flesh of my pussy. I can feel every bump, every unexpected ridge, as he moves inside of me, his thrusts becoming harder and faster. Every time he fills me, his seela make a sweeping stroke through my sensitive folds and around my clit, making me thrash beneath him.
It’s too much.
It’s not enough.
The burning inside of me intensifies almost painfully even as ecstasy swirls.
He lunges, filling me completely. The seela don’t stroke this time—it feels like they surround my sensitive flesh and pull. Something squeezes my clit.
Everything pulses.
His mouth comes down on mine again, swallowing my scream as I writhe for him, shuddering in utter erotic rapture. The seela pulse and pull, sending wave after wave of sweet ecstasy through me, massaging my pussy lips and clit and adding an entirely new level of sensation to my orgasm.
I’m drowning, and I don’t even care.
Gavrill
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I am aware of my armor sliding around my hips to join with her belt, artificially locking us together the same way my seela suction to her skin. From this point on her belt will only respond to me and I will be able to control it, and her, completely.
What is more unexpected is how my seela have fully latched onto her, triggering my bonding sequence. Whether or not it will ever be complete, I have no idea, but the sensations are even more intense than I could have predicted, and my ecstasy is explosive. I can feel her contracting around me, her muscles rippling over my length and practically sucking my seed out of me.
The sensation is more amazing than I could have ever anticipated.
Panting for breath, I let my arms fold so I can rest my weight on my forearms, laying them alongside hers. She is soft and lax beneath me, still moaning softly as my seela detach and begin to soothe and caress her now swollen sex. Little shudders wrack her body and at first I am concerned, but as they are giving her pleasure I decide they must not be harmful. They seem almost like tiny echoes of her climax and I am fascinated.
My Tribute is highly satisfactory. Bogdan is wrong; the Tributes will be a blessing for all of us.
As if my thoughts have summoned him, my nanotech pulses with an alert from the bridge.
I barely manage to suppress my growl as I hunch around my Tribute, unhappy with the interruption. Logic asserts itself—they would not bother me now if it were not important.
Drakk, I curse in my head.
My armor slides up my spine to extend a communication tendril into my ear.
“I’m sorry for interrupting, Commander,” says Bogdan, his voice neutrally crisp and not at all apologetic. “We have a situation that requires your attention on the bridge.”
“I am coming,�
� I respond, my voice low and threatening. If the situation is not urgent, I will have Bogdan cleaning out the most foul area of the ship I can locate.
Beneath me, my Tribute blinks. The almost peacefully satisfied expression on her face clears and I am sorry to see it go. Her lips tip up in amusement.
“I thought you already did that,” she says, her voice teasing.
No one has teased me in so long that I almost don’t recognize it. Even so, I don’t understand her words. I frown down at her in confusion.
She sighs, her small smile slipping away. “Never mind.”
When she turns her head away from me, the moment is over. I can feel a strange sense of unhappiness and regret—both foreign to me and they do not feel like my own. It takes me a moment to realize my tech is transmitting her emotions to me.
Scowling, I pull away. Obviously, the bond is not working as well as it should if those are her current feelings. Still, I can see from the flush of her body, the small round red marks my seela have left on her swollen flesh, and the looseness of her muscles that she was been well-pleasured. The language barrier between us is not vast, thanks to the translators.
If I were not needed on the bridge, I would have her explain her words, but the demands of my crew and my ship must come first.
Still…
I find I am loathe to let her out of my sight so soon. She will accompany me to the bridge.
Standing, I pull away from her and walk over to the closet where suitable garments have been stored for her. I had them made in the replicator on the way here, based off of the garments Tsenturion females would wear during the Mating Festival and their courtship. The filmy material seems out of place on the ship, but I am already looking forward to seeing my Tribute in them.
“Here,” I say, picking up a blue one that will closely match her eyes and turning to hold it out for her. “You will put this on.”
5
Dawn
I don’t know what day or hour or cycle or whatever alien time unit these guys use it is. I do know that I feel both drained and very awake. My legs are wobbly as I follow the High Commander—my Master—down the hallway. I don’t want to call him that and yet somehow it feels easy and right.
Can Stockholm Syndrome be trained into someone? Because I feel like that’s what’s happened to me.
It’s as if I’ve been split down the middle into two Dawns; Dawn #1 is appalled and horrified not to mention seriously pissed off, and Dawn #2 wants nothing more than her Master’s attention and approval—and another orgasm. I’m not even sure which one feels more real right now.
I catch my reflection in the shiny metal lining the hall and quickly avert my eyes from the image, gritting my teeth. Will. Not. Blush.
Part of me is furious about being dressed in nothing but a filmy, practically see through gown, collar and leash. Another part of me likes the way the fabric swishes around my legs. I peek at my reflection again and see the front and back slit opening and revealing the stupid Trainer, which my Master has me wearing like a chastity belt again. I’m actually relieved for the coverage it gives me, as much as I hate it.
I also keep telling myself that as long as I’m sarcastic when I call him ‘Master’ in my head, then it’s okay.
“Where are we going?” I ask as he turns down another hall, my steps slowing as I realize it looks exactly the same as the last one. All the halls look the same. How does he know where to turn? And how am I ever going to find my way around?
“The bridge. There is a situation I must deal with. Come.” He tugs the leash and I pick up my pace again. It’s that or fall over, because he’s definitely not stopping just for me. The collar and leash make me feel both more submissive and more infuriated. I’d resisted when he’d first attempted to place the collar around my neck. It had taken just two hard swats to my already sore bottom to convince me that wasn’t a fight worth having—at least, not right now.
Especially since I didn’t currently know of a way off of this ship. I’m his prisoner and I can’t forget that, no matter that he’s currently treating me as some kind of sex toy or exotic pet. We’re somewhere in space and the ship is filled with his crew. If I’m going to escape, I’m going to need to be sneaky about it.
Those “training manuals” he’s been reading—they aren’t just about sex. They’re about women being abducted by alien males intent on dominating them; women who always get into a lot of trouble when they fight. So I’m going to pretend to be the perfect little Tribute that he wants. I’m going to pretend that my training worked completely, and once I learn all about his ship and the best way off of it, I’m out of here.
I am also going to ignore the little voice inside my had that says I’m not pretending quite as much as I like to think I am.
I will escape.
With as few spankings as possible.
I walk with my eyes downcast, avoiding meeting the eyes of any of the warriors gawking at the sight of their Commander and his Tribute, and also because Frllil told me that I’m not supposed to meet any of the warriors’ eyes. At the time I’d thought it was bullshit, but now I’m almost grateful. It’s bad enough that I can feel their gazes on me and I know they can make out the outline of my nipples under the almost see through gown. I don’t want to see them actually staring at me.
Especially not if it gets me punished again.
My resolve lasts until we enter the bridge where a few other alien warriors are waiting. It’s my first glimpse of space and I lift my head to look outside of the windows. The glittering stars against the blackness is stunningly beautiful, like something out of a movie. It almost doesn’t seem real.
Movement catches my eye and then a giant Tsenturion with angry dark armor meets my gaze. He scowls fiercely at me. Shit. I’ve broken protocol. Immediately I return my gaze to the floor like a good little Tribute. Make it look like I’m thoroughly cowed. Although, if I’m being totally honest, the angry warrior is definitely scaring me a little. I shift closer to my warrior. Even if he spanked me, fucked me silly, and then put me on a leash, I still feel safe next to him. It seems crazy to me, but I can’t deny it.
Just as I think that, he makes an odd clicking noise and pulls me forward by the leash. Jerk. I can feel my cheeks heat with embarrassment. Now I am blushing. He sits in a large chair at the head of the bridge. When I hesitate, wondering where to sit, he points to a spot next to his chair. There’s some sort of cushion on the ground and I’m realize I’m supposed to sit on it like a freaking dog or something.
Oh, hell no.
“I can’t sit there,” I say, pulling back against my collar to show how serious I am. “I have a knee injury, I can’t sit on the ground for long periods of time.” I’m stretching the truth a little—years of yoga practice made me more resilient, though my knee does get sore after a time.
He gives me a look, every inch the High Commander who is unhappy to be questioned. Especially in front of his men. My knees feel a little weak, but I refuse to drop down. I’m not lying after all.
“Medik has repaired your knee, you need not worry about it.” The calm way he states the impossible has my mouth popping open in surprise. I’ve been doing physical therapy and yoga for years to keep my knee working properly, because it was the only option. I narrow my eyes at him, crossing my arms over my chest and jut out my chin, ignoring the stares of the warriors on deck. I don’t believe him.
Sighing and shaking his head, he begins to wind the leash around his hand, drawing me closer by my throat. I’m uncomfortably reminded of Jabba and Princess Leia, except that this is actually really freaking sexy, even if I don’t want it to be.
“You know what happens when you disobey.”
I dig in my heels as I realize his intention, but it’s too late. The leash pulls me down and over his lap, ass in the air and I squeal as I feel the training belt receding, uncovering my already reddened cheeks.
“What?” I kick out, feeling frantic as I try to push myself up. “You can’t s
pank me here. Please! You didn’t even give me a chance to sit down!”
“Didn’t I?” He sounds amused and my anger surges. My intention to be sneaky, to be meek, goes flying out the window in the face of his freaking amusement when he’s about to spank me with a freaking audience!
“No! Not here, dammit,” I grit out, kicking my legs as I try to roll off of his lap. I’m aware all the warriors are watching. I’m even more aware of the High Commander’s cock, growing long and hard under my belly, the seela beginning to writhe. The ridges strain the front of his suit.
It gives me an idea.
He pins me down, but I keep wriggling, rocking side to side a little in an effort to... er... stimulate things in my favor.
It has no discernable effect on him. At least, not one which is helpful to me in any way.
My wrists are caught in his large hand, my legs weighted by his heavy one. I gyrate like a belly dancer but am caught fast. My ass is still burning from the spanking he gave me in his cabin and I want to wail in denial.
He pulls aside the flimsy garment I’m wearing and bares my ass to the entire deck. I freeze, my whole body flushing with humiliation. There’s no way they can miss the signs of the spanking he already gave me and now they’re going to see me receive another one.
Even worse, I can feel my lower body pulsing in anticipation. My vagina has committed the ultimate betrayal. I’m getting wet. Considering the books I read and the training Frllil put me through, maybe I shouldn’t be so surprised. Considering how much my ass already hurts and how embarrassed I am, I am pretty shocked that I’m turned on at all. But there’s something about being vulnerable and exposed that is just flat out doing it for me, no matter my other emotions.
“If you did not want to be punished here, you should not have misbehaved here,” Gavrill murmurs. Defiantly I think of him by his name rather than as the High Commander or my Master—even sarcastically. His free hand smoothes over my skin, leaving goosebumps rising in its wake. My mortification and my arousal grow in equal measure.