by Corin Cain
He can sense my nervousness.
“Relax, my sweet. Enjoy every sensual delight. Feel no shame, or guilt. You were born to serve my cock. Just relax and let your primal instincts take over.”
His words melt my mind and I wrap my lips around one of his huge, cum-filled balls – unable to fit both of them in my mouth at the same time.
I suck, and he growls. His muscles tense, and I can tell he’s barely able to control himself; barely able to stop himself from grabbing my hair and forcing me to deepthroat him.
I rub his shaft and fondle his huge balls as I take his cockhead back inside my mouth – sucking as hard and eagerly as I can on the massive shaft.
I’m rewarded by a low growl of pleasure, and the salty, addicting taste of his pre-cum.
The instant I taste his seed I ache for him to take control.
I gently remove my hands from Korgath’s balls and place them slowly behind my back. I thrust my breasts forward, and open my mouth wide.
I adopt the posture of an eager pleasure slave.
Korgath can read my mind. He roughly grabs my hair, pressing my head painfully against the glass of the mirror and forcing every inch of his hard, pulsing dick into my mouth.
“Your mouth is my property,” he snarls, fucking my throat hard and making me gag as he loses control. Then I see it. Through my watery eyes, I see his eyes glow silver.
I ache to see them turn that shade forever, and I force myself to keep my eyes open despite my desperate need to blink. But I have no greater need than this – of maintaining eye contact with this looming Aurelian as he uses my throat for his pleasure.
He loves it. He grunts as I fight to keep my eyes open, his own eyes wide. He stares deeply into me as he abuses my mouth. I feel a deep, fulfilling pleasure at pleasuring him. All doubt suddenly leaves my mind.
“You’re my perfect little pet,” he says, his voice like a drug – intoxicating me with a powerful combination of possessive dominance and absolute adoration.
Lost in lust, Korgath thrusts his powerful dick past my lips over and over. I struggle to keep my mouth wide open, barely able to take his girth.
Then Korgath brings his left hand down, his fingers between my legs, and his thumb finds my clit. He begins circling it – faster than humanly possible. I’m so oversensitive already from Korgath’s eager tongue, but I still keep my hands submissively behind my back as he forces me to cum hard again – climaxing once more, this time with his cock down my throat.
My whole body shakes and shudders as he coaxes me to cum again, overcoming my reticence and making me explode despite my oversensitive state. I try to scream in pleasure, but instead I simply drool on his cock.
The rumble in my throat finally pushes Korgath over the edge, and he growls and cums hard.
I can’t resist. I reach up, fondling his slick, sweaty row of abs as he spurts his seed down my throat. He pulls out, and rope after rope of his hot, sticky cum splashes across my face and over my lips.
Within seconds I’m covered, completely humiliated and used, and I gasp for air as he finishes spurting all over my face.
For a moment he just looks at me – his cum-adorned slut, red-faced and panting and dripping with his seed.
“Shower off. Then we travel.”
His voice is almost cold – the heat of lust and the emotion gone from his face. It’s as if it never existed.
I feel kind of numb as I slip off the counter and pad to the shower. Peeling off the pleasure gown, I step beneath the deluge of water, washing away the thick cum plastered over my face.
When I finally emerge from the steamy shower, I see a sensible wool dress placed on the counter.
There’s no underwear or bra, so he’ll still have easy access to me whenever he wants – but the conservative nature of the dress shows progress in our relationship; compared to the infuriatingly teasing pleasure slave gown I’d been forced to wear previously; that torments me with arousal at the slightest movement.
After drying myself, I slip on the fine woollen dress and sigh in bliss at the feeling of heat radiating in my muscles from the long, hot shower.
Then I take a deep breath and steel myself.
It’s time to meet the men who are Korgath’s equal.
His triad.
14
Korgath
Juliana emerges from the bathroom clad in the woollen dress I’d picked out for her.
She still looks beautiful, and the clinging wool still accentuates every curve of her ripe body, but she’s no longer intoxicatingly available to me – no longer filling me with lust, as she does when she wears those more-naked-than-nothing pleasure gowns.
I nod in approval, and lead Juliana out onto the landing pad.
Juliana follows me to my ship, and after slamming shut the hatch I take off. I rear my powerful vessel high into the atmosphere, far above the city I practically own.
I will the link – the bond between me and my triad. It’s the first time any of us have tried to touch each other’s minds in over two-hundred years.
Ten minutes later, I feel them, in my mind.
This better be damn good, you traitorous, lawless pile of Toad feces.
I can tell it’s Arok’s thought. Brutan would not even spare me an insult. They both know what I’ve done. They’ve seen the news reports. They’ve heard all the rumors, some true and some lies.
They know my soul is black as oil.
I need your help. I communicate back.
Fuck you.
I feel the bond slipping away as they cut down the telepathic link. Juliana looks at me, sensing my frustration, even as I try to keep it off my face.
“You… You were talking to your triad, weren’t you?”
I turn to her, genuinely surprised.
“How did you know that?”
This one is too perceptive for her own good.
“I’m not the greatest poker player, but I know you’re not supposed to let the other player know what their ‘tell’ is.”
I think. Did I have a micromovement of my brow? A flare of my nostrils?
I trail my finger against the wool of her dress. “Perhaps I’ll have to get the answer out of you another way.”
She snorts, but the tiny smile that comes to Juliana’s lips is more valuable than a simpering giggle. The hatred she looked at me with the first time she cast eyes on me has gone now – replaced with adoration and respect. I ache to use her, here and now, to claim her as my own fully.
“Hold on tight, we’re phase shifting.”
I hold down on the throttle, and the Orb-Drive warps reality.
One moment we are above Titus…
…the next we are deep in Scorp territory.
I feel like I’ve left my stomach behind, and Juliana looks like she might throw up. I gently stroke her forehead.
“There, there. It’s over now.”
“I’m good,” she brushes my hand away – not spitefully, just with a quiet dignity. “I’ve phase shifted more times than I can remember.”
I nod in satisfaction, and then turn to the cockpit screen.
Below us a huge asteroid, as big as some planets. It’s an Orb mine – one of the most dangerous forms of mining possible. Unlike other materials – like the ones Juliana herself chased in her mining vessel – Orb is notoriously difficult to extract, as using beams on its raw form before it’s processed can cause massive ruptures.
But that’s not the only reason Orb is so dangerous.
Raw Orb ore attracts the most brutal creatures in the universe.
Scorps.
They are attracted to it like moths to flame.
I gaze down at the mine, hanging from the asteroid like a limpet. The human miners, a group of twelve of them, are down below in mech-suits, burrowing and mining with huge pick-axe attachments.
But they’re not alone. As they mine feverishly, two Aurelian’s fight off a horde of incoming Scorps. That can mean only one thing - there’s a nest on the aster
oid.
That’s a bad sign. Without those two Aurelians to defend them, those human miners would have been cut to shreds already, if not dragged off to serve as hosts for a Scorp queen’s eggs.
But even with the two warriors, the odds are stacked against them.
And, even worse, those aren’t just any Aurelians down there.
Those two warriors are Arok and Brutan – my blood-brothers.
They’re both capable warriors – perhaps some of the best in the empire. Nevertheless, there’s no way Arok and Brutan can clear an entire Scorp infestation between just the two of them.
The teeming mass of Scorps are bad enough – but within the nest will be a twenty-foot-tall Scorp queen; one of the most deadly creatures in the universe.
No, there’s no way they could go two-on-one against a Scorp queen – not while being beset on all sides by her deadly offspring. The best they can hope for is to slow the onslaught while the humans scour what Orb ore they can, until the odds are too stacked against them and they have to call it and punch out.
“They’re… They’re dancing…” mumbles Juliana, looking down at my blood brothers in wonder.
It’s true. The battle looks like a dance, as I engage the thrusters and approach the cold ground of the asteroid.
It’s been two centuries since I fought alongside my blood-brothers, but neither has lost an ounce of skill. Their movement is like music. One moment, Arok and Brutan are directly in the path of a wicked blow from a Scorp warrior…
…and the next they’re simple not there.
They move inhumanly quickly, dancing through the sea of snapping claws and stabbing tails, sparing quick glances up, not losing the flow of the fight as they face off against countless Scorps.
The glances upward are because of us – because of the mysterious craft appearing above them.
My triad knows we aren’t pirates. Even with the bond muted, we can feel each other’s presence when we’re this close. At least, I hope they know we aren’t pirates. If they think I’ve stooped so low…
I touch my craft down, and quickly suit up for the barren, airless surface outside.
“Stay here,” I say, and Juliana nods, grabbing the weapons controls. Adorned in a space suit, I grab my Orb-Blade and head out of the airlock.
As soon as my boots touch the dirt of the asteroid, the telepathic link between my blood-brothers reopens.
Get out of here! You don’t play soldier any more, Korgath. It’s been hundreds of years since you’ve fought a Scorp. Go back to smuggling slaves.
I snarl, willing my Orb-Blade to extend. The blade reads my mind and powers up. The blade is reality distorting – it’s hue a black even darker than black, and the power behind its cutting edge the same as has powered empires across the universe.
It’s been two centuries since I’ve battled against a Scorp horde, and all that time my Orb-Blade has thirsted for blood. Now I will sate that thirst.
I join the battle, falling instantly back into the groove of war. I stride alongside my blood-brothers, and even without words, my Orb-Blade swings as theirs.
It’s no surprise. We spent every moment of our hundred-year campaign together, and despite two centuries apart, the three of us know each other’s bodies almost as if they are extensions of our own.
The miners in their mechs continue working away at the Orb ore, trusting their bodyguards to protect them from the Scorp horde. Their faith in Arok and Brutan is flattering – if optimistic.
A tiny hint of fear and doubt nags at me as I narrowly avoid the sweeping claws of a nine-feet-tall Scorp, that screams out in rage as it sees its prey dodge what should have been a killing blow.
Go back, mobster! For the first time in two-hundred years, I hear Brutan’s thoughts.
I grit my teeth and press the attack forward. The Scorps are pouring out of a cavern hole, roused by the mining activity on the surface of their asteroid home.
Scorps are huge beasts. They stand on two powerful legs, with the massive pincer claws of a scorpion and a deadly stinger tail extending from their hind. Their skin is scaled and crocodilian, their eyes blood red and possessing a violent hunger. They breathe air, water, and can survive in the vacuum of dead space with equal impunity. They are truly terrifying.
Some Aurelian scientist have posited that the proximity of their lairs to raw Orb-ore gives them their powers, which often seem to defy both physics and biology.
Not that it matters. I have no time to think of such lectures. Scorps may defy physics and biology, but they can’t defy an Orb-Blade.
If I have the opportunity to use one, that is.
I add that grim afterthought as the deadly tail of that same Scorp flicks forward yet again, bouncing off my spacesuit and chinking my armor.
You’re slow. It’s Arok – his voice in my head as vivid as if he’d spoken.
I fight my way forward and jam by Orb-Blade into the throat of a huge Scorp, spurting greenish red blood across the barren dirt in a tremendous arc. My Orb-Blade seems to drink it, becoming a darker shade of black and pulsing with additional energy as I rid the galaxy of one more of these foul monsters.
Then the last wave hits. Four Scorps charge as one. Two of them aim for me, and I’m knocked on my back. The two massive beasts raise their scorpion claws, about to jab them down and rend the points right through even the tough Orb-Armor I wear beneath my spacesuit.
My fate is grim. Even if their claws don’t pierce my armor, their bulk alone will crush me.
Then the Orb-Beam hit them, slicing the beasts into bloody chunks. It was a perfect shot.
I turn, and see the face of Juliana through the cockpit of my ship. She’s manning the Orb-Beam, and apparently as good a shot with it as I am.
So, she truly is a captain.
The waves of Scorps has finished, for now, and I motion towards my ship.
Come with me! The Scorps are gone, for the moment, and there’s someone I need you to meet.
Arok and Brutan pause for a moment, blood dripping from their Orb-Blades.
I know they’re considering whether to alert Aurelian Law Enforcement, or turn on me and disarm me themselves – to take me back to the Emperor and collect the significant bounty on my head. Their hatred of me is clear through the bond. I can feel all of their disgust and anger.
I turn my back on it. With luck, they’ll soon learn the truth.
I stride across the barren dirt of the airless rock, eventually opening the airlock of my craft, not looking back to see if my blood-brothers followed me.
I smile to myself, though, when I hear their footsteps behind me. Reluctantly, the two of them follow me into the ship. We enter the airlock together, and I feel almost complete now that I’m finally reunited with my blood-brothers.
15
Juliana
My hands are trembling.
I’ve dodged asteroids, sliced ore from careening meteorites, and piloted my way through the deadliest space storms. But even by those standards, that shot was one in a million.
I’d barely managed to squeeze off a shearing blast from the Orb-Beam before those Scorp beasts crushed Korgath. It was like threading a needle - a foot too low, and the beam would have evaporated Korgath. A foot too high, and it would have missed altogether.
I’m a pro with a mining beam, but I’ve never used a true Orb-Beam before; and my hands still shake at the raw power of it.
I’m also trembling at another incredible display of power – that of Korgath, fighting alongside his blood-brothers.
It was equal parts fascinating and terrifying to watch him in battle. He wore a suit of Orb-Armor beneath his spacesuit, while his triad were fighting in cheaper flak-suits. He looked magnificent – and the symmetry between the three of them was breathtaking.
The air lock clinks, and suddenly all three of the towering Aurelians enter the cabin.
If I felt small in front of Korgath, it’s nothing compared to how tiny I feel when his entire triad enters.
The other Aurelian remains silent, evaluating me.
The two Aurelians are the same size as Korgath. Tall, proud, and arrogant, they have the same chiselled jawlines and blank, slate-grey eyes.
Korgath gestures to the two new arrivals.
“Allow me to present Brutan and Arok. My triad.”
My mouth goes dry.
If I thought Korgath’s chiselled jaw and impossibly muscled physique were intimidating and too much to handle, I’ve just realized that Brutan and Arok are each nearly twins of his. They stand just as tall, just as proud, and just as imperious.
“We’re no longer your triad, you traitor,” growls Brutan.
“He’s… He’s not who you think he is,” I say, my voice wavering.
Arok snorts. “You may be an excellent shot, but you’re not so observant, human. If this bastard has you thinking he’s anything less than a killer and an outlaw, then you’re a fool. He wears the Orb-Armor of an Aurelian Elite, but he disgraced that title centuries ago. Instead, he makes his trade in smuggling illegal weapons. His name is feared through the universe by most people – but Brutan and I am not most people.”
Arok turns to his disgraced blood-brother.
“Explain yourself now, Korgath – and tell me why we shouldn’t bring you, dead or alive, back to the new Emperor.”
Korgath’s hackles rise. His hand moves slowly towards the Orb-Blade at his hip. Brutan’s eyes narrow, and he reaches to draw his own...
“No!” I yell, and push myself between the three men.
The realization hits me.
