Theirs to Share

by Jaye Peaches

  “We’ll finish quick and get you out of here. Don’t worry. Nobody but us lays a finger on you.”

  “They’re all monsters,” she sobbed.

  Kriss rattled off his remaining smacks as swiftly as Jago. None of them registered in Shayla’s head. She was too worried about the crowd baying for the spectacle of further humiliation. What if the judge demanded it? She was supposed to be a Gift, a vessel for their pleasure. But surely, only her nestors? Nobody else would be allowed near her.

  She’d dreamed of this moment. Men lining up to satisfy their urges and in that fantasy, she’d lapped up the attention, and had orgasms that felt as real as waking ones. She’d gone as far as letting them use her in pairs, or even a threesome. Passed from one man to the next, their hunger never ending and her liquid core melting.

  That was the fantasy. The reality was nothing like it. There was no way her Gift extended to an orgy of gigantic proportions. No agreement permitted that without her consent and she wasn’t capable of giving it. Only her imagination was allowed to spread its wings.

  Jago released her shackles and rubbed her wrists. “No bruises, thank the queen.”

  “What about my poor ass?” She reached behind and rubbed each buttock. There was a definite fire down there; however, there was no furnace, more like sun-drenched warmth.

  “It’s good.” Kriss took her hand. “Let’s get you out of here. This crowd is crazy.”

  She glanced around. Several men had stripped off their tunics, revealing the glow of their beating hearts beneath their skin. These men were in the state of Hunger and feverish. The droids had formed a circle around the arena, acting as guards. The judge, his eyes black as the night sky, licked his lips and raised his staff.

  “Please,” she whimpered. “They’re like beasts.”

  Kriss swept her up and over his shoulder. Her bare ass was still on display, but the solid form of his body supporting her buoyed her. She was safe with him and Jago. The pair of them marched her out of the arena before anything else happened and along a dimly lit passageway toward the distant exit.

  She remained perched high, her head lolling and her hair a mess. “Okay, put me down.” She thumped his back.

  “When we’re safely back home,” Kriss said, striding ahead of Jago.

  She glared at Jago. “I’m naked.”

  “Kriss. Put her down. We’re not walking through the city with her red ass on display.” He yelled to a nearby droid, standing guard by the exit. “You, fetch her clothing from the arena.”

  Kriss carefully lowered her to the ground. Standing between the nestors, they acted like a protective layer. A few men had slipped passed the droids and were approaching them, their glowing hearts pulsating in the gloom.

  “Stand back.” Jago held up his hand. “The punishment is finished. You have no right to come here.”

  “She’s receptive. We saw it,” one man said, smacking his fist into his palm.

  Receptive! Shayla squished her legs together. She’d not paid her sex any attention. But, it too had been drenched in ull and, she realized, its numbing effect had impacted the visible folds and clitoris. Tentatively, she lowered her hand and touched herself, using Jago as a shield so nobody could witness her probing.

  “Oh. My. God,” she whispered. She was plump and wet. Her clitoris was swollen, too. “This can’t...”

  “You looked beautiful,” Kriss whispered in her ear. “Sexy. And ours. Can’t wait to get you home. I want to drown in you, fuck you until you can’t stop coming. I want to sleep next to you, keep you there, safe by my side.”

  “And mine, too,” Jago added.

  The droid returned with the gown, pushing his way through the growing throng. The sentinel had brought other droids and they formed a circle around the three of them, allowing her to dress behind the shield. However, more men were arriving.

  “The judge is coming,” Kriss said, pointing to the far end of the corridor and the entrance to the arena.

  The staff clanged on the flagstones. He wore a fur-lined cloak draped over his shoulders. The dark walls of the passageway closed in tighter, filled by a sea of moving men who parted before the judge. Their luminescent lines of veins—purple, green, blue, even orange—accentuated the outline of their bare arms and chests. Shayla knew that in the darkness, where her eyes couldn’t see, they were aroused and ready. The men were in a state of Hunger.

  “This is bad—” Jago said.

  “Forbidden,” Kriss said angrily.

  Shayla clung to his arm. “Don’t let them—”

  “You’re ours.”

  Jago sighed. “She is, but if they think she’s capable... and the judge, what if he thinks we’re not worthy anymore. He’ll take her off us.”

  Shayla swayed, trying hard not to lose her footing. Her head throbbed with the sudden onset of a headache. This couldn’t be happening. What if her ridiculous fantasy became reality? What if the men who’d followed them out of the arena, and there seemed to be dozens of them, really were permitted to take her for themselves?

  “Please,” she said faintly. “Don’t let them—”

  The world turned black and soundless.

  * * *

  A cool hand brushed her forehead. Lips touched hers. The gentlest of kisses.

  “She’s waking up, at last.” Kriss’s voice.

  “Praise be.” Jago added a deep sigh.

  Shayla blinked—the lights were too bright. She was lying in a soft nest, a familiar cocoon. She managed to focus on her surroundings. She was home. Pushing Kriss’s hand aside, she sat, expecting to find her body ravished by hordes of hungry men.

  Her bottom throbbed. A definite residue of soreness from the spanking, but otherwise, she was comfortable, if a little lightheaded. Flashes of the arena swept through her mind: the chains, the men, the judge with his staff. The shameful way she’d reacted to the punishment.

  “What happened?” she asked.

  Jago and Kriss were kneeling on either side of her, their faces etched with concern. She’d never seen them so infused with emotion.

  “They wanted us to take you back to that Gotti, but Jago didn’t like the idea. She would only poke and prod you more. We know what’s best for you.” Kriss handed her a glass of water.

  “I meant the judge... those horrible beasts who chased after us. I was sure they would... you know...” She gulped several mouthfuls of water; the icy liquid was welcome. The thirst had given her a headache. She’d not eaten in a day, either.

  “The judge intervened and ordered them to disperse,” Jago said.

  “The judge? I thought he... didn’t like me... or was after me...” She swallowed the last drop and handed the glass back to Kriss.

  Kriss shook his head. “Regardless of his desires—the Hunger dwells even in an old man—he has to protect the law. He followed us to make sure you were safely removed. When the men refused to yield, the droids intervened. Reports have been made. Some will lose their privileges.” Jago grimaced. “Thankfully, most came to their senses and apologized. But by then, you were in a state of exhaustion. We could not revive you.”

  “The judge isn’t a bastard then?”

  Kriss clucked his tongue. “Unwise to speak of him so, Shayla. He is a warrior of the highest rank. He probably conquered a planet. Only the queen is above him.”

  “Oh.” She’d not realized the extent of the judge’s power. “A good guy, really?”

  “As long as you obey the law,” said Jago. “Now, you’re still too pale. You will eat, then you will explain what you were doing with the oracle.”

  She lowered her eyes. “Yes, sir.”

  “No more lies. We’ve proved you can trust us, that we’ll protect you.”

  “And discipline you,” Kriss said.

  And love me? she wanted to add. Now wasn’t the time to explore those passions. Jago brought her food on a dish—the usual plain cubes that filled the stomach, but did nothing for the palate.

  When she’d finished,
she shifted onto her knees. The faintness had gone, and her stomach had ceased rumbling. She was ready to explain everything.

  Jago sat in the strange armchair, which folded around him, while Kriss stood behind. Two somber men. She cleared her throat and began to speak.

  She told them of her training, not the one they already knew about—sex and so on—but the secret one she had with the Resistance, the Rogues who wanted to rebel against Hezara. She also told them about the conversations with her father about integration, and breeding together. Jago and Kriss listened in silence.

  “So, I thought if I used the oracle, it would answer my questions.”

  Jago frowned. “This is spying.”

  The word wasn’t the one in her head, but she understood why they used it. “I suppose. I want to help you with your Hunger, it is my duty as your Gift. I also want to serve Earth, my home. One day I’ll go back there, and... well... they might let me stay here, I suppose if I wanted to, but if I go back, and I’ve helped, then I’ll be able to settle somewhere nice.”

  Kriss stared at her. “Go back—”

  “That is another matter,” Jago said swiftly. “We’re talking about the oracle. What questions did you ask?”

  What did she say? How to explain what the oracle had shown her when she’d not the words in her head. She wasn’t a scientist or an engineer.

  Jago leaned forward. “You’ve been punished. There is no need to fear us.”

  “Oh, it’s not that. I know I’ve been punished.” Her bottom refused to cool down now that the effects of the ull had worn off. So far, no bruises, though. “It’s just I don’t know how to explain. The Gotti’s oracle expected me to understand it.”

  “What did you ask?” Kriss repeated.

  She rested her palms on her thighs and steadied herself. “Okay. I asked why men only? Why no female Hezara?”

  “This is known,” Jago said. “We can’t breed them, only the occasional queen.”

  Shayla braced herself. “The Gotti know that’s a lie. They have provided Hezarans with the means to breed females. Hezara chose not to.”

  Kriss’s back snapped to attention. “What?”

  Jago held out his hand. “Come closer.”

  She moved and knelt between his feet. He took her hand in his, as if he needed to feel her as well as hear her speak. “This can’t be true. You misunderstood the oracle.”

  “It’s taken a while to think it through. While I was in the cell, and the thoughts were fresh in my head, I pieced it together.”

  “What together?” Kriss asked impatiently.

  “You’re engineered to be different, yes? Your tongue? Jago’s hearing. Many others are also altered. The Gotti have amassed a great deal of information about your genetic code. They can manipulate it in many ways. Each one of you might share your mother, the queen, but you’re also altered before you develop, to ensure you are unique. And male. I don’t understand the technology, but the Gotti’s oracle was clear, females are not necessary. Your rulers, the Junta, want males and,” she paused, taking a deep breath, “discard the females.”

  Kriss paced the room, his fists clenched. Jago, more introspective and calmer, merely shook his head and sighed several times.

  “The Gotti,” Shayla said, “are using their technology to help Hezara, in return for peace on their planet. It’s just another form of servitude. I don’t like them. They don’t care about me, not like you two.”

  Jago patted her hand. “We care about you. Thank you for telling us the truth. Do you think this is the information your Resistance wants?”

  She pondered what they might do, if she told them. “I’m not sure what difference it would make to them. They want to force a renegotiation that gives Earth more freedom and possibly end the agreement. They haven’t encountered the Violence, like you, and there are many who resent having to send Gifts, having to send Earth’s women to serve aliens. But, I’ve not found anything out about the incubators or queens that you haven’t already told me.”

  “We need more queens to breed. I’ve never understood why we have so few. The Junta have always told us that queens are naturally rare. If what you say is true, then why lie to us. I can’t believe it.” Jago scratched his chin, his gaze darting around the room as fast as the fish in the lake. She’d unsettled him. Kriss was struck dumb. Jago spoke again, breaching the uncomfortable silence. “And your father, what would he do with the information?”

  “He would be interested. If females can be produced, then you can breed more Hezara, and if you can’t, what if you need help from other species? Would you allow humans to integrate with Hezarans, would this strengthen our position by cooperating, not threatening?”

  “That is not a question I can answer. It is not my decision. The queens should decide their fate, don’t you agree, Kriss?” Jago looked at his nestor.

  “This has been kept from us, Jago,” he snarled. “Why?”

  “Because of the Violence,” Jago said. “It’s all to do with the Beasts that ravage our worlds. They are the reason why, I know it.” He thumped his thigh. “If only we could destroy them.”

  Shayla wasn’t convinced. The Violence, which had never visited Earth, and kept to the remotest parts of the galaxy, was a constant source of fear. Yet, Hezara themselves had the knowledge to change things regardless of the threat. The technology of the Gotti had to be known to the Junta, who must have kept it secret; the nestors’ oracle had not revealed the information to the warriors.

  “Maybe, but, I think it’s the Hunger that is your real weakness. It controls you. If you were free of it...” She gnawed on her lip. There were other ways to procreate that relied on more wholesome emotions, like love, mutually given and received. “If I could speak to a queen, explain my father’s position, then maybe she could use her influence to change things.”

  “The Junta control the entirety of Hezara’s universe. They make the laws that all worlds must follow.”

  A Junta that existed where? Which planet? Who protected them? More questions. Perhaps she was a spy in the making if she was unable to contain her curiosity. Emboldened by the impact she was having on the two men, she decided she’d nothing to lose by taking a step further along the path she’d taken, except now it was entirely her choice.

  “They can’t stop me from seeing the queen, can they?” she asked.

  Jago glanced toward Kriss, who seemed to have calmed down. “No, they can’t. If we are able to, we might arrange for you to visit. At the moment, she is in confinement.”

  “Confinement?”

  “Breeding. The Hunger keeps her busy.”

  Poor woman. Nothing more than a breeding machine. And for how long? When would a new queen be created? Odesta was overflowing with hungry men and a few real women. The frustration was all around, it lived in the air, and was barely under control. If the judge hadn’t been there...

  She shuddered, and her heart pounded with renewed anxiety. The sense of vulnerability was back in abundance. There was no hope of a future with Jago and Kriss if the world around her wasn’t safe.

  “I don’t want to go anywhere without you,” she said.

  Jago scooped her off the floor into his arms. “We’ll protect you.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  He drew her closer to his body. How small she was, just a cozy bundle in his arms, and precious. Helpless, too, it seemed to the casual observer, but she wasn’t. She’d bravely taken her punishment until overwhelmed by the events that followed, and who could blame her for feeling afraid when faced by a horde of hot-blooded men?

  As for the oracle, the explanation she’d given for her actions was plausible and not malicious in nature. Kriss agreed. His nestor was angry at the deception of his own leaders, something to debate when they were alone.

  Her milky skin was soft. He trailed his fingers down her arm, along her leg, and under the skirt of her dress. He stroked her warmed bottom and cupped one glowing ass cheek. She sighed, drifting in the calmness, and tip
ped her head back.

  There it was, the yearning, and so unlike the fever-driven Hunger. Yes, it stirred his cock, stiffened it into a rod, but something else was there, too. What was this sensation that afflicted him? The emotions were inexplicable, hard to define. She needed him—beneath the fabric, her nipples were traceable and her breathing quickened. He probed along the groove of her sex, finding it slick and ready.

  As Jago drew her dress up and over her hips, she twisted and shifted herself upright so that she could straddle his lap with her legs. Her half-opened eyes and gentle smile on her face were a lure, a trap, and he happily allowed himself to be ensnared by her.

  He exposed his erection. The stiffness was almost complete. She rose and sank with ease, impaling herself with a cry of delight. Swaying from side to side, smiling still, she rested her hands on his shoulders and he supported her around the waist. By the time her bottom reached his lap, he was lost to those unfathomable sensations.

  She bucked and arched her back, and he let her set the pace. Slow, then fast, she gyrated her hips and squeezed his captured cock. Out of the corner of his eye, Kriss approached her from behind. He nuzzled his nose in her hair, inhaling her, and as she danced on Jago’s lap, he cupped her breasts, holding them in his palms.

  The Hunger was days away, but in that instant, it felt close, as if he might burst and release his seed without warning. The dress was a hindrance. Following Jago’s train of thoughts, Kriss tore it away with his hands and teased her nipples with his fingers and thumbs, rolling them right in front of Jago’s eyes.

  “She’s beautiful,” Jago said.

  Kriss kissed her throat, and she moaned. Half-moon eyes peeped out from under the curtain of her hair and the lids fluttered. The blush of her face deepened, spreading down across her chest and breasts.

  “I’m coming,” she gasped. “I’m coming. It’s coming.”

  She clenched and shuddered, flopping forward. Caught between them, she had no escape. The orgasm produced a wave of contractions, beat after beat flooded her body, especially the nuclear core where he remained buried with her snug around him, like a glove.