by Alana Khan
Switching his mouth to the other breast, he scrapes harder. I bite my top lip in an effort not to make a sound.
He’s relentless. If a boyfriend were doing this, this perfect dance of total attention to my breasts, the suction and licking on my clit, the hot way his hands touch me as if he has complete ownership, I would be begging right now.
But I hate this guy and don’t want to give him the satisfaction.
Moving away from me, he murmurs, “Hands and knees, Victoria. Ass in the air.”
Shit, that order sends a jolt of equal parts lust and fear through me. Once I’m in the odious position, he slides between my knees and snugs his fabric-covered rock-hard cock along my backside. I suck in a harsh gasp. He rocks against me as he reaches around to the gadget that is still vacuum-suctioning my tender nub.
He yanks it off me, which pulls even harder on the most sensitive nerve cluster in the female body. It almost sends me over the edge, but I won’t give him the satisfaction. My core quivers in need. My efforts to tamp it down are futile.
He pulls away long enough to yank off his clothes, then slides his cock through my folds, his head bumping my now-oversensitive clit. Oh my God, I’m going to come in a second if I don’t get a hold of myself.
“Rule number six, Victoria. You cannot come without my permission.” His voice is deep and forceful and for some crazy reason the more domineering he sounds, the more aroused I become.
He’s pulled away from me completely, not touching me anywhere. I should be glad. I should be hoping he’s jacking off behind me and will leave me alone. But my inner slut is silently willing him to come back and resume where he left off.
And he does! One hand on each nipple and huge cock pumping along my wet folds. He bends closer to me, his chest hugging my back, and nips the nape of my neck.
No. Not fair. That gave me the shivers—the good kind that makes you want to moan in bliss. He does it again in the exact same spot, a little harder now. It’s a mesmerizing blend of pain and pleasure.
“Voxx.” Shit, I said a word, that’s not allowed. But he doesn’t scold me.
“Say it again, zara. I love to hear my name on your lips.”
I don’t want to say it now. I don’t want to give him pleasure.
“Voxx.” My body hasn’t been under my control for nine minutes and two seconds, even my mouth is noncompliant.
“That’s right,” he croons. “You know how to please me, and I know just how to please you, too.”
One hand slides down the rise of my breast, across my belly and trails through my mound to my eager button. He circles around it in a feather-light touch. The vacuum made it so over-sensitized his barely-there caresses are building me toward climax.
“Don’t come, Victoria. Not until I tell you. Wouldn’t it be better to have something in here when you do?”
He’s lodged two fingers at my entrance. They tantalize me.
I’m on fire. For one scant second, I can see this tableau in my mind’s eye. I’m leaning on one shoulder, ass in the air, being fondled by a huge, domineering, purple alien. It should disgust me. There should be nothing sensual about it.
But it’s erotic as hell, and every nerve in my body is alive and awake and desperate. Desperate!
I purposely don’t glance at the clock. I don’t want documentation of how quickly I caved.
“Please,” I say it quickly before I have time to back out.
He plunges into my core with his cock and presses a sopping wet finger into my back pucker.
He slipped into me so quickly I had no time to resist. My eyes fly wide in surprise that instead of the pain I’d anticipated, that finger provides me intense bliss.
He bends close, bites my earlobe, and husks, “Feel good, Victoria?”
“Yes,” I moan as I buck against him. I’m too enthralled to deny the truth.
“Tell me when you’re close. I’ll give you permission.”
A hot burst of lust zings deep in my belly at the idea of getting his permission to come. I’m not fighting anymore. None of it. He wants a sex slave? A sex slave I’ll be.
I’m bursting with desire. Every muscle in my body is building toward release, yet I want to tamp it down, make the explosion even bigger when it finally comes.
“May I make noise, Sir?” There has to be some way to release steam before I detonate.
“All you want.”
My deep moan resounds through the room, bouncing off the walls, circling and gathering decibels as it continues.
“That’s right, zara. Feel every moment of pleasure.”
“Fuck.” It’s an otherworldly sound. A deep, almost-masculine grunt of sex and arousal and desperate, aching need.
“Call me Master when you come,” he orders in a low rasping tone. “Come for me, zara.”
“Master.” I spasm around him, a prolonged release of every muscle in my body, swelling and crescendoing in wave after wave. My inner muscles grip him, his loud, breathy pants huff in my ear, his hips piston against my backside over and over until I hear his bark of release.
I’m still quivering in ecstasy as he peppers my neck and shoulder with kisses. Finally, I collapse on my stomach, willing myself to enjoy the aftermath of the most intense sexual pleasure I’ve ever experienced. In a moment I can slide into self-loathing for being the craven wimp I am. Right now, can I just allow myself two minutes of physical bliss?
He flips me on my side, slides in behind me, and covers us with the spread. My mind peripherally notices it’s blue and white and flowered. No self-respecting man would be caught dead even looking at it, much less buying it. But he bought it for me. It’s all so confusing.
Harsh, dominant Voxx is gone, and the big purple guy is tenderly lipping my neck, pulling errant strands of hair off my sweaty forehead.
“This is what we had before you got sick. This. I wish you could remember it.”
“Great sex, Voxx.” My voice is snide, sarcastic. “It means nothing.”
He kisses the top of my head. Twice.
As I turn to make a caustic statement, I see the counter on one of the screens. 10:01:33 flashes in red. I barely made it ten minutes. For some reason I can’t fathom, Voxx doesn’t mention my weakness. It’s the least assholey thing he’s ever done. I notice his hand is gently stroking from my shoulder to my wrist and he’s still nestled tightly against my back. Well, maybe he’s done one or two other non-assholey things today.
~.~
“We have dinner at my parents’ house. Time to get dressed,” he announces, waking me from a nap I didn’t know I took.
“Your parents?” For some reason, I’m petrified. “Please Voxx, no. Put me in a cage here while you’re gone. Don’t make me go with you.”
“Why?”
“The idea of being in a room with three huge, purple people who want me to stay here, who are going to pressure me, looking at me like I’m a bug under a microscope… I can’t do it.”
“You met my mom over comms. She’s from Adel, Iowa; it’s near Des Moines. She’s definitely not purple. I think you two got along fine when you spoke.”
“We did?”
“Yes. My mother and father know all about you. They know you’ve lost all memory of the last few days. They’re dying to meet you and I’ll make certain they put no pressure on you about what you’ll do on Choosing Day. Besides, my mom’s a great cook; you’re probably tired of what I’ve been feeding you.”
“I’d rather stay here. Tie me up so I can’t escape.”
“You’re coming with me. Let’s get in the shower.”
There’s something about the confines of the shower with Voxx looming over me and the water pelting me, that ramps up my libido again.
The shower is like something out of a fancy home magazine. There are three showerheads and a seat along the back wall. The tiles glow different colors, kind of a psychedelic-meets-futuristic-elegant look. The water temperature’s perfect.
For the first time, I notice the per
fection of his body. He’s another species, but his muscles are exactly like a Chippendale dancer’s, only bigger. And more pronounced. He’s gorgeous. He has a fascinating glowing geometric tattoo on his right bicep. I glance over and see he caught me looking. Shit.
“We’ll have plenty of time for that tonight, after dinner. I have some clothes for you in the closet.”
“Clothes? I don’t have to go naked?”
“Naked is for us. Clothes are for outside this house, zara.”
“My name’s Tori.”
“I call you Victoria, your given name, most of the time. Zara when I’m feeling affectionate.”
I’ve never heard this particular warm timbre to his voice. I have no idea why I choose this moment to poke the bear. “Affectionate? Or sex-crazed?”
“Victoria, repeat the rules,” he’s exasperated.
“No swearing, no eye-rolling, do as you say, no clothes, and call you Sir, Sir.”
“Don’t forget again.”
“What do I call you in front of your parents, Sir?”
“Sir.”
“Really?”
“Victoria!”
“Really, Sir?”
“Every couple on Zinn has a Dominant/submissive relationship. The only thing that would be scandalous is if you didn’t call me Sir.”
Yuck.
He opens a closet stocked with several dresses, all my size and style. I pick the pink one that feels like a t-shirt. It hugs my breasts, skims my waist, and flares out to the hem.
“It looks pretty on you. I knew it would.” He smiles at me. I don’t think he smiles often, because when he does it looks unnatural.
On the way to his parents’ house, his wrist comm lights up with a call from his mom.
“Hey, Sweetie. Hi Victoria, I’m Jennifer. We met before, but I understand you don’t remember me. Voxx, I invited Lann, then realized I should have asked you first. I can uninvite him if you want.” She makes a face as if it’s not something she wants to do.
“I’d love to see Lann. I want my best friend to meet Victoria. See you soon.”
I groan. “Your best friend, too? They’ll all hate me.”
“Why would they hate you?”
“Because they’re all on team Voxx, and I’ll be voting for Earth on Choosing Day.”
“They understand the situation. Yes, they want you to stay, that’s why they’re going to be extra nice to you. You’re quite the worrier, aren’t you?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“It’s my job to take care of you, Victoria. Nothing is more important than that. If anyone anywhere at any time isn’t nice to you, I will do whatever it takes to protect or avenge you. Against anyone, my best friend and parents included. You are my first priority. Period.”
“Really?”
“Yes. And my second priority is to properly train you to follow the rules.”
“Yes, Sir. I’m trying. I promise I’ll get the hang of it.”
“Good girl.”
Jennifer is as Voxx described, uber nice and just what you’d expect from a farm girl from Adel. Verris scares the shit out of me. He looks so much like Voxx it’s uncanny, I guess it’s that all human genes are latent and the two of them could be twins. Except the soft side Voxx shows me sometimes isn’t apparent with his father. Verris isn’t trying to frighten me, he’s very polite and inquisitive about my past as well as my health.
Lann is gorgeous. Where Voxx is masculine all the way down to the harsh line of his jaw and the steely look in his silver eyes, Lann is… softer somehow. Not feminine in any way, just not as severe. He’s quiet and polite and somehow sad.
“No word from the lottery?” Voxx asks his friend when his mom and dad are out of the room.
Lann shakes his head.
“Three more months, then you age out of eligibility,” Voxx’s tone is sad.
“Haven’t you heard? The news is full of it. There was a miscalculation and all the slots have been drawn for the year. There are no chances left for me.” His shoulders droop and he winces. “We can’t all win the lottery and pick a female as beautiful as Victoria.” He smiles, but there’s no happiness in his face.
Voxx is heartbroken for his friend, and Lann’s grief is etched on his features. I feel a pang of empathy for both of them, then realize I’m rooting against my home team. I can’t be sad that Lann didn’t get his chance to abduct his dream girl from Earth, can I? How un-American.
Jennifer chose the menu with care—to please me, I guess. She serves perfectly cooked prime rib with piped mashed potatoes and asparagus. I imagine she wanted me to know I could enjoy all the comforts of home while being her purple son’s little sex slave. I’m extremely gracious even as I hold back my urge to inform her that her sneaky little plan to entice me to live on Zinn isn’t working.
The males all heap their plates with a dark brown dish they seem very excited about.
“Ellem, Miss Jennifer,” Lann says as if he’s having a foodgasm. “I haven’t had this in ages. You cooked it perfectly.”
My eyes flick to Voxx’s, but he shakes his head, then leans close and whispers. “You can certainly try it, but Mom says you’ll probably hate it.”
He puts the tiniest sample on his fork and offers it to me, but from the smell alone I think his Mom was right. I shake my head no and he gives me a close-lipped smile.
“Thanks for the heads-up, Sir.”
Verris and Jennifer leave for a moment, then return with flaming baked Alaska. I’ve heard it’s insanely hard to prepare, and feel honored, knowing she made it to welcome me. Voxx was right, I should have known the last thing they’d do is try to scare me off.
“Wow, this is amazing. Thanks for making this, Jennifer.”
“Verris made it.”
I almost get whiplash glancing between both of them. If all the males on this planet are dominant, the idea of Verris slaving away over a fancy dessert blows my mind.
“Zinn couples can create their relationships in any way that’s meaningful to them,” Verris says. “I leave the cooking to Jennifer, but I love to bake. I like to spoil her with something delicious from time to time.” The way he said ‘something delicious’ was a clear reference to something other than dessert. It’s amazing how happy they look together.
“Well, this was definitely yummy.”
“I’d like to show Victoria the yard, we’ll be back in a moment for cherril,” Voxx’s voice holds a warning tone.
Oh boy, cherril. Something’s coming and it ain’t gonna be good.
“You’re not going to like this,” he says before we’re down the stone steps leading to a garden that’s filled to bursting with a riot of flowers.
“Way to get a girl’s hopes up, Sir.”
“Very few brides come to Zinn before their choosing day. There’s not much of a precedent. Even though you haven’t chosen to be here, you’re on Zinn and you’re expected to follow our customs.”
“On Earth, we have a saying, ‘when in Rome do as the Romans do’. Somehow I have a feeling I’m going to hate cherril more than I’d hate touring the Colosseum.”
“Whatever the Colosseum is, I imagine you’re right. It’s Zinn custom that after dinner the males sit around the table playing a card game with chips.”
I nod, waiting for the punch line.
“Females kneel at their male’s left hip, say nothing, and fetch anything that’s requested.”
I’m speechless. If he hadn’t threatened to punish me ten times today, I would not be speechless, I’d be fuming and cussing. Right now, however, I clench my teeth together and order myself to shut the fuck up. Fetch? Really?
“Questions? Comments?”
“Permission to speak freely, Sir?”
“Yes.”
“No blowjobs?” The snark flew out of my mouth before I could stop it. Oh shit, even though he gave me permission to talk, I don’t think he gave me that much permission.
“Yes in some families, on some occasions, Victoria. That won
’t be happening tonight.” He lifts an eyebrow and smirks.
Is this for real? No, it couldn’t be. He just said that to make the original proposition sound less loathsome.
“Voxx? Could I speak with Victoria a moment?” Jennifer asks sweetly from the porch.
“Yes.” He takes the steps two at a time and leaves us alone. Coward, he couldn’t get out of my line of fire fast enough.