Theirs to Share

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by Jaye Peaches


  “It is,” Jago said.

  “Definitely.” Kriss reached over and ruffled her hair.

  “So, you’re sorry,” she said, lifting her chin. The fire was back in her eyes.

  “Sorry?” Jago’s shoulders stiffened.

  “Yes, apologize, please. It’s like you treated her with contempt, and in doing so, you cheapen my feelings, too.”

  Kriss straightened. “We did not treat her with contempt. We have no feelings for her. Is that not obvious?”

  Jago stared right back at her angry gaze.

  “To you...” said Shayla. “I just think she’s real enough that you should have not forgotten Tina.”

  “Tina? This is going too far, Shayla,” Kriss said. “She’s going. I’ve put in the request. The droids will collect her tomorrow—”

  “Now!” Shayla leapt to her feet. “Why wait for tomorrow?”

  “Shayla,” Kriss growled. “This will not end well for you if you continue to scream at us.” Was he going to have to spank her after all? He couldn’t tell if the thought pleased him, or made him disappointed. He wanted the issue contained, brought under his control. The need to discipline remained strong, even if his feelings for Shayla were no longer simple. The complexity was what set her apart from the droid. Perhaps that was what she needed to understand.

  “I never spanked the droid,” he said.

  “Why would you,” she said sharply. “She does as she’s told.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Right.” Shayla snorted. “She’s far too obedient, obviously. Nothing like me.”

  “No, nothing like you.”

  Jago rose, vacating the chair, and stepped to one side. Kriss sat, making sure he didn’t take his eyes off her scowling face.

  “That’s the problem with droids,” Kriss said. “Just too artificial. No feelings. If I spanked Tina, she’d only pretend to feel pain. You, on the other hand, would feel it for real.”

  “Yes.” Shayla bit on her lower lip. “I guess... I mean... you’re right, of course. I would. I don’t think you quite need to go as far as to remind me.”

  “Ah, but I do.” He settled back into the seat. The tension that was in the air seemed to quell. She needed this readjustment. Perhaps, because of the strength of their feelings toward her, they’d allowed her to forget her place.

  Jago moved to stand behind her. A sturdy column, the backbone of the relationship between them and her. She needed that reassurance that they would not let her go. Not yet. And if it were at all possible, not ever. Love, she called it, and Kriss was starting to suspect he knew exactly what the word meant. Was spanking her love? Would she see it that way?

  One way to find out. “What do you think, Jago? A spell over my lap will remind her that we do care, that we won’t be told what to do when we have her best interests at heart.”

  “I concur.” Jago slipped the sleeves off her shoulders. “Just a quick reminder. Be good, Shayla.”

  She stayed still, allowing Jago to undress her, revealing first her breasts, the pebbles of her nipples, her flat belly and little navel, something nestors didn’t possess, and then her bare mound. Kriss sucked in air. His hardening cock was clamoring for her surrender. But, not yet.

  Her submission was glorious to witness. Not a word passed her lips as Jago bent her over Kriss’s lap. Before moving back, Jago planted a swift kiss on one of her rotund ass cheeks, and peered up at Kriss. The silent message was transmitted.

  No punishment, no harshness. This spanking was purely about realignment.

  Kriss circled each smooth lobe with the flattened palm of his hand. Shayla buried her face in her hands. She expected pain; she probably wanted it, too. It would be just right. Not too much, but no leniency either.

  He raised his hand and paused to speak. “I’m sorry, Shayla. Yes, the droid should have gone by now. But, losing your temper with us was wrong.”

  “Yes, sir,” she said quietly.

  Chapter Sixteen

  She hadn’t anticipated this outcome—being over his lap, head down, bottom up and waiting. She rewound her thoughts, trying to work out if she’d subconsciously allowed this to happen or actually wanted it, but had gone into denial. She was probably overthinking it.

  The second before his heavy hand dropped onto her quivering ass, she got her apology—a kind of apology without the sincerity of a penitent. The sting of the smack took her breath away. The heat bloomed in a circle around one spot above her thigh. She tried not to imagine his hand print forming a red mark, but it probably had, and it was a big hand, too. He slapped the other cheek.

  Had she lost her temper? Her manners certainly: she’d pouted, rolled her eyes a bit, and snapped back at them. She wasn’t a droid, though. She was a human with thoughts of her own. If they wanted her to stick around, they were going to have to adapt to her, just as she had with them.

  She kicked her feet. Jago grabbed hold of her ankles and repositioned them further apart.

  “She’s resisting,” Kriss said, between well aimed spanks. He was switching back and forth, bouncing from one buttock to the other, with little pause in between. He smothered her bottom with slaps, the type that lacked force but more than made up for it with speed. She was reminded of a drum set. She pitied the poor skin-clad drum, her ass, as he maintained a rhythm that a dancer might bop along to with energetic footwork.

  “I am not.” She threw the words over her shoulder in a vague direction. She couldn’t let go of the anger. It wasn’t toward either of the men, or Tina, the sad droid in the cupboard. It was herself who bore the brunt of her displeasure. She had engineered this—what had she been thinking when they walked into the house? She’d acted childishly and gone over the top with a mini-tantrum.

  “I said I’d remove it, didn’t I?” Kriss said.

  “Yes.”

  “Then, stop with the attitude.”

  He’d drilled right through her head and seen the screwed-up expression on her face. The discomfort in her ass wasn’t the cause of it. She’d layered tension into every syllable she’d spoken since they’d come home, and now that tension was tightening muscles and drawing a grimace on her face.

  “I can’t.” Her dry eyes refused to cry. “Dammit.” She squawked and winced. He wasn’t letting up with the spanking.

  Jago then made a suggestion that took her breath away. “We could turn her over and spank her pussy instead.”

  What!

  “Her ass is resisting. It’s like stone.” Kriss ceased spanking and slipped his fingers between her thighs, seeking out her pussy. “If we probed her ass at the same time, and you fucked her mouth, she might start to remember she’s ours.”

  “Sounds like a good start.” Jago spread her legs wider. “We could also perform an ull enema. It will ensure she is clean and ready for prolonged use.”

  “The ropes might come in handy, too.”

  She squealed as Kriss fucked her with his fingers, plunging them deeper with each thrust. “She’s very wet.”

  “Stop talking about me. I’m right here—”

  Jago trampled over her words. “A gag might be useful.”

  A gag! What next, a blindfold or hood? What had come over them? Where were her lovely nestors, the two brothers who treated her with respect and kissed her from head to toe, bathed her in words of affection even when they thrust hard and long? Had her anger driven those two men away?

  “What are those things your friend Zandos used on his droid to make her scream? Clamps or something.” Kriss added a third digit as she opened up to him.

  Jago laughed. “I remember. He had to create a special program to keep her nipples hard so that they didn’t fall off. These,” he reached under her and flicked one of Shayla’s pebbles, “are getting solid.”

  A shiver shot down her spine and into her molten core. She moaned, unable to stop the build of the orgasm. She humped her hips against Kriss’s thigh and gasped. They ignored her frustrations, speaking over her head.

  “I kn
ow, we could ask the Gotti. They might have medical equipment we could use. A pulse generator? Isn’t that likely to cause tingling sensations if we inserted it into one of these holes?” Kriss pressed a digit against her puckered hole.

  “Okay. So we plug her with a pulse generator, string her up, fuck her front and back—”

  “After the ull enema—”

  “Yeah, and the gag too.”

  “Exactly. We’ll treat her...” Kriss stopped his agitation and Jago released her nipple, “contemptibly.”

  The climax was destroyed by the silence, a strange emptiness that followed his last word.

  “You’re not going to do any of that?” She twisted around.

  Both of them were shaking their heads. Jago had a soft smirk on his face, while Kriss’s eyes twinkled.

  “Is that how you treated her, really?” she asked.

  “The droid named Tina? No, of course not.” Kriss turned Shayla over and let her slip onto the cushion by his feet. “Others might, but not us. We were happy with her. She fulfilled our needs. She was all we knew, our only experiences of sex were with her. We don’t regret what we did with her, but in hindsight, you are nothing like her. You’re real. Special. Believable. We can’t go back to her, not now.” Jago nodded in agreement.

  She blinked. They’d played a game with her. She probably deserved it, and as a punishment, it was far more effective than her throbbing ass. They’d realized spanking her wasn’t as effective as it used to be, not since the arena. She only felt an intimacy when Kriss spanked her, a sense of connection to them both. The words they’d spoken might have turned her on, brought her close to an orgasm, but the shame of feeling hot and aroused by what they said lived on. Her face was probably as red as her bottom.

  “I wanted those things,” she said quietly. “I really thought you’d do them.”

  “I know,” said Jago gently. “I mouthed the idea over your head, and it just went from there.”

  “So, you think I’m a hypocrite for accusing you of treating Tina as a thing, when in fact, objectifying me is a big turn-on.” She examined her white knuckles, which were clasped on her lap.

  Jago tipped up her chin and dropped a tiny kiss on her lips. She welcomed it with a fluttering of her heart. “I think you’ve shown your honesty, sweet human. And I like it.”

  “Did you ever do any on that with her?” They’d spoken with such fervor, it seemed like they’d had experience.

  Kriss clucked his tongue. “We did like the ropes. Swinging her on and off our cocks. But the rest... gags aren’t necessary; she has volume control. An enema is pointless, she’s automatically sanitized before and after. And, the pulse generator was just a little piece of imagination.”

  She giggled. “It was a good one. I literally started pulsating when you mentioned it.”

  “You did? Perhaps I should ask the Gotti to make something like it.”

  “The clamps?” She’d seen those on Earth on some education video.

  “Never tried them.” Jago licked his lips. “Do you fancy trying them?”

  Her pussy clenched. The sensation was divine. “Yes,” she confessed.

  “So, do you believe us when we say you matter far more than any droid ever has? That we forgot Tina not because she wasn’t important, but because you’re far too important and occupy every moment of our day.”

  She nodded. “I do believe you.”

  “Then, let’s make love. Like humans do.” He drew her toward him.

  Kriss started to unfasten his shirt. “Realignment is successfully accomplished,” he said.

  She smiled. They were very much in tune—all three of them.

  Chapter Seventeen

  They wouldn’t reveal their destination. It both infuriated her and made her excited. The boat, a passenger cruiser, sped across the smooth waters of the vast lake, a different body of water to the one that lapped against their window. They’d traveled to the other side of the city, and there stretching out as far as the eye could see was another lake, but bigger. It reminded Shayla of the Great Lakes.

  They’d acquired a new dress for her. The pinkish fabric shimmered under the rays of sunlight that slipped through the clouds. She’d worked out the clothing was made for the Gotti women—there was a slit at the back for the tail. Somebody had made adjustments, and overall the style suited Shayla.

  The other passengers, mostly Hezara, kept staring at her. She remained seated throughout the journey between Jago and Kriss. Their proximity and guardianship comforted her. This was the first major trip since the arena.

  The pair were dressed smartly, in their uniforms of office. Being the queen’s guard gave them special privileges. The other soldiers saluted them when they’d boarded, making space for them on a row of seating in the aft of the boat.

  Out of the window, she caught a glimpse of something glinting on the horizon. It grew, forming shapes that reflected both the sun and the water—the buildings of another city.

  “Where are we?” she asked.

  “Just a neighboring city. But we think you’ll like this option better.” Jago grinned.

  The secrecy was killing her. The Hunger was tomorrow, but after the Tina incident the previous day, they’d taken the time to make this trip to reassure her. Tina had been taken away early in the morning, collected by a droid, and the lifeless pair had walked away in silence. Shayla was surprised how awkward she felt about the departure. It should please her, but it didn’t. In some respects, it was like booting out the cheating ex-girlfriend, except the droid had done nothing wrong. Her programming kept her warm and placid. She smiled at the nestors. Very awkward.

  They disembarked on a quay, the length of which accommodated many vessels, including fishing boats. Unlike the shallow lake by their house, this one had a greater capacity for exotic fishes.

  The city was of the same design as theirs, with the bowl-shaped landscape surrounded by skyscrapers. The citizens included the Gotti, and a few other alien-looking humanoids, but mostly the males of Hezara, who continued to stare at her. She looped her arm through Jago’s and stayed glued to his side. Kriss led the way, ensuring nobody came too close to her.

  The destination was an eatery; the sign hung outside the doorway had a picture of a fish on it. She hid her disappointment. The last visit hadn’t exactly gone well. She wasn’t really in the mood for their idea of ‘good food’ and ‘exciting’ ambiance. However, she wasn’t going to ruin it for them, not when they’d put so much effort into the adventure.

  Walking into the dining room, the first thing that struck her was the music. The gentle melody drifted over the heads of the diners. A soothing sound and familiar in its composition. The tables were laid out not in neat rows like the last eatery, but spread randomly with potted shrubs interspersed. She halted, gaping at the walls, which were covered in colorful murals of landscapes she recognized.

  “That’s Earth. It’s the Grand Canyon, I’m sure of it. And that over there,” she pointed to the opposing wall, “is just like Africa.” The mural showed a savanna with a giant tusked elephant walking across the plains.

  A Gotti showed them to a table. There was a napkin, glasses, and cutlery laid out for three diners. The fork had two prongs, the knife a short blade, and the glasses were fluted. Jago picked up the fork and examined it.

  “Interesting device,” he said.

  “It’s a fork.” She offered him the English word and he repeated it.

  “Fork.”

  She nodded. “Why is this place so different?”

  “We heard about it from somebody who visited and we thought you might like to come, too. It’s unusual. We had to twist a few arms to get a reservation.” He lay the fork down and poked the rolled napkin. “What do we do with this?”

  She picked up the cloth napkin, flicked it up, and laid it on her lap. “It catches the crumbs and when you’ve finished eating, it’s polite to dab your mouth.”

  Kriss shook his napkin out and laid it on his lap. The squa
re cloth barely covered his muscular thighs. A menu was propped against a small centerpiece vase. She opened it. It described fish dishes and sweet desserts. She licked her lips and her stomach rumbled.

  “Looks nice,” she said politely.

  “Welcome,” a voice said from behind her.

  Shayla turned. The tall woman had rings of black curls arranged around her chocolate face. Her eyes were as dark as a Hezara, but Shayla knew she was human. There were a few wrinkles by her lips and under her eyes; she was probably twice Shayla’s age.

  “Hello,” Shayla said.

  “You must be Shayla,” the woman said, stepping closer to the table. “I’m Nieve. I was told you were visiting today.” She held out her hand and Shayla shook it. Nieve’s hand was warm, the shake firm but brief.

  She offered Jago and Kriss a small bow of her head. “It is a pleasure to welcome you to my eatery, the Kalahari, named after the home of my ancestors.”

  “You are... were a Gift?” Shayla asked.

  “I came from Earth as a Gift. And, I stayed after my nestors left.”

  “Left?” Shayla looked over to Jago.

  “Warriors must fight,” he said simply.

  Nieve pointed at the mural. “Do you like the view?”

  “Oh, yes,” Shayla said. “It is beautiful.”

  “I had them painted from images in my head. It wasn’t easy to explain what I remembered.”

  “Do you miss it?”

  “Naturally, but my home is now here, on Odesta.” She picked up a menu. “Do you like anything?”

  Shayla shrugged. “I don’t know what anything tastes like.”

  Nieve pointed at one entry. “This is a little like salmon, and we serve it with rice grown near my house.” She had her own house! The eatery was evidently a great success.

  “I’d like to try it.”

  “We will, too,” said Kriss.

  “Excellent.” Nieve waved to another member of staff and gave her the order.

  “So this is your business?” Shayla asked. The place was packed, the mood lighter than the other eatery. There were plenty of smiling faces. Mostly Hezara, which she expected, the planet was awash with men, but there were also other less Hezara-looking guests.

 

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