“I probably should not have done that.” She eyed the pad balefully, as if it had made her do it.
The humanoid bot waved them on with a “Happy ravishing!”
Molloks must have a riotous sex life.
He ushered her down the stairs with a few tentacles and his arm at her back, and one still in the vicinity of her neck, toying with her there. It was, she decided, almost a sexual act.
So many things to be confused about and they were supposed to be talking. He’d shoved a tentacle in her mouth and between her legs without so much as a please. Fine, when she was cycling but now, no. This talk should begin by her addressing that.
Pleasure was not a primary need. Non-reproductive sex was not.
Then why had she agreed to this?
Because...she was curious.
Because she trusted him?
To do what?
Oh she knew what and why. Hormones she shouldn’t possess were ruling her actions. Her s’kar morals were hanging by a thread.
After the gloomy descent down more stone stairs, she expected some horribly dank cave at the end. Molloks were a little bizarre and signing that ravishment agreement had for some reason triggered a shutoff of her links to the starwebz, so she couldn’t research what to expect.
Scary. Nerve-wracking. And it was seriously making her panties wet.
The large red door opened and, behold, a small paradise.
He released her and let her walk in.
Thorn felt as though she were intruding on a shrine. She pulled off her boots and set them aside, then walked delicately forward, somewhat afraid to disturb this.
The musical patter of water falling endlessly into a wide pool in the background was her first impression.
This was a vast room, low-lit but beautifully presented.
Furnishings were of the stout variety, however molloks weren’t small. An immense blue, circular bed stretched out to the left, stuffed with huge irregular cushions that resembled foliage and rocks.
What lay outside in dappled sunlight enticed her.
The space flowed from bedroom to the distant pool. There were no doors, and she padded to where the stippled gray floor tiles gave out to a bumpier mock-rock, then to real boulders and a slope into a perfectly clear pool. Plants fluttered their leaves or vast fronds, draping above the pool. Cliff walls surrounded this grotto and fat, finger-sized blue-and-white fish cruised in the water.
A waterfall tumbling down the left cliff face churned the water lightly. It lent the air the scent of lemon and flourishing plants. Tiny white blossoms dripped from crevices.
“To your liking?” Led growl-purred from behind her, ending his question with a series of clicks.
It was a sound distinctive to molloks, as far as she could tell.
The clicking made her tense up and take notice. It seemed predatory...frightening...a premonition of sexual intent. My, my.
Turning slowly, she watched his advance.
“We’re talking, Led. Remember?”
“Soon. I feel you need a different approach. A more powerful one.”
“Ummm.” She backed a step. “Talk does not require force.”
She’d known; she’d known he had ideas.
“Why did you sign the agreement at reception?”
“Because talking is exactly...” Another step back and she felt the rougher stone under her feet. The flare of his tentacles made her heart clench and pause a moment in its infinite beating. “It’s what we need to do?”
“I detect a question in your tone, Thorn. Why? I saw your arousal. Do you wish me to show you it again to prove this?”
This was not appropriate, and she’d sort of hoped...or not. Where was the lie? In herself, surely. “I’m not cycling. I cannot want sex at such a time. Pleasure is not a need.”
“Cannot, must not? Is this beyond your understanding? You’re half siren. You can deny this but your body shows what you are – a female who has desires.”
He reached for her with those sinuous appendages, with the blunt spikes on them erecting and undulating.
“You’re...” Stuttering, she flailed about for an answer even as he wrapped a tentacle beneath her dress, across where her bottom was bare, and hauled her to him. Though her feet skidded, she was forced to walk. “It’s the mollok you’re in. This isn’t you.”
“Isn’t it?”
With Ledderik in this stern-faced mollok form, the effort of refusing was growing ever more difficult.
She’d known this was his intent.
“It is me. I am allowing the mollok inclinations to take dominance, yes, but I know what I am doing – the same as I allowed the dalk to show me how to dance.”
His tentacles twisted about her at wrists and ankles then, in a swift second, he upended her, leaving her dress to fall over her face. Swinging back and forth, she bit back a shriek and found the floor just out of reach of her fingertips.
He readjusted his grip and began to strip the dress from her, undoing the cord ties at the back and peeling it down her arms. Her underwear were removed last and flung somewhere off to the side. She found herself naked and upside-down.
“Now I have you where I want you, girl.”
“Wait! If you’d just –”
A tentacle slid into her mouth, stuffing itself in enough to still her tongue no matter how she tried to spit it out.
His smile irked her to extremes, even as his pesky tentacles began to caress her, worming around her breasts and gripping them tightly, then tighter, sliding over her clit and through her legs. They nudged her with those spikes that did not hurt but instead delivered minute jolts of some form of organic electricity. One such zap made her squeal and wriggle.
She’d swear it’d made her clit stand up and hum.
“Pleasure is your right,” he growled, ending with those intimidating clicks. “I will no longer allow you to deny your body and your mind. Let me show you what a mollok does with his cock.”
The tentacle in her mouth stayed in place as he laid her belly down on the ground beside the pool, pinioned and spread-eagled with her nipples chilled by the cool floor.
He pulled her legs even further apart and she heard the rustle of clothes. Glancing back, throat tightening in apprehension, she glimpsed him as he kneeled behind her, still with his coat on but his pants open. He’d freed that aforesaid intimidating cock.
It was red for the most part but black lines spiraled down it to the head which was a perfectly inky black. Below the head a collar of squirming spikes circled.
If she’d been able to speak she’d have pointed on that signing the pad upstairs had said nothing about being penetrated by this thing with spikes.
To her shame, the sight had made her arousal soar.
At the very tip, a clear drop of liquid shone in the light.
Before she could realize his intentions, he shoved fingers into her. He twisted and squeezed them in further then partway out, pumped them in again to a juicy sound. She was that wet.
The abrupt invasion and stretch of her pussy tripped her into a storm of sensation.
She sucked in several choking breaths, then held herself rigid. She must not allow this. To like this was so wrong.
“With these in you, it seems your cunt cannot contain itself. You’re leaking enough to lubricate a gigantic cock. Do you want me in here? Admit your needs, Thorn.”
He then shoved another finger in her, she was sure, and she choked at the feel of imminent rupture. The force. The stretch took her pleasure receptors to the very edge of sanity. She was held open and helpless, and where her clit rubbed on the floor was growing wet and slippery. Her doing. Her.
More of it dribbled down and over her clit.
She mustn’t allow this.
Mouth stuffed full, Thorn tried to shake her head, to shake off what held her down. At wrists and ankles, nothing moved. Gasping, drool spluttering around what pinned her tongue, she tried again to wriggle from his hold.
Though not
as long as any tentacle, the cock emerging from his pants was fully as thick.
Panting, she watched as he unplugged his fingers and guided his cock closer. It twitched once then he leaned in, his thighs pressed to hers, and she could no longer see what came to violate her.
She felt the thrust from her toes to her eyes and slid along the floor. Her spine bowed instinctively. That rush of penetration. It ushered in a world where she was fucked and could do nothing. Her grunts were those of acceptance. Though she trembled, she loved this, the feel, the knowledge of being taken.
What use were s’kar morals now?
A climax soon burgeoned, roughly forcing her to ecstatic heights.
He’d removed her need to choose. There’d been one choice only – to be here, with him.
And she’d known. She sobbed at her desires, yes. How could pleasure be right? But it was. It was.
“This, is mollok foreplay,” he murmured and he thrust himself fully deep.
Within, the cock expanded, pulsed rhythmically. A fluid heat ripped into her then died away and infused a delicious fatigue to her muscles. Laziness entwined and ravaged her.
The tentacles about her limbs and mouth slackened their grip, released. He withdrew his cock, with a glistening string of fluid decorating the tip and still joining him to her, and rose to what seemed a mountainous height.
Her arms and legs would barely obey her, and she lay there on her belly, immobile and trembling, and displayed for his sight. Unbound at last but possessed by a betraying, throbbing heat in her lower body.
Aroused? Oh yesss. Too much yes.
She rolled onto her back and fumbled to cover her sex, or maybe to grind herself on her hand, only to have a tentacle casually flick her hand aside. Had she truly meant to stimulate herself before him? The need had peaked and become excruciating, enough to make her attempt to squeeze her thighs together. Again he shoved her flat and pinned her with her legs wide.
“Do not try to conceal yourself.”
Thank the gods he was unaware of this shame – how she lusted for more of this coerced pleasure. She whimpered as he stood over her. The quietest staccato sigh escaped her as he undressed.
This see-saw of lust and shame was cutting her in two.
“I hate this,” she whispered.
He kneeled between her legs again and coiled tentacles about her thighs to hold her, with his smile turning ever more evil. “No you don’t. You hate why this is necessary. I’m going to fuck this holier-than-thou s’kar attitude out of you, until I have you begging to have these...” He raised his full armory of snaking appendages. “...thrust into every hole. I have until tomorrow morning. Until you beg and beg convincingly, you’ll be staying here.”
The appointment was her final hope. “You can’t keep –”
“Shush.” His cock thrust into her the barest amount and a tentacle end probed her asshole, widening it, pushing.
Though she clenched tight it squeezed in some more.
His words had enthralled her and she could feel the laziness of some chemical spread inside. Whatever the cock had delivered, it had brought her closer to acceptance. It had cleared away the mess of her upbringing. She saw the blatant stupidity of those ways, but she also saw how she loved his threats and the way he made her struggle beneath his bondage.
“Will you beg? I can see the need in you, Thorn. Beg.”
Begging would destroy this. She shook her head and mouthed her own threat, “Make me.” Then she smiled.
His brows rose. His hold on her flexed. “Oh I will. I truly will. Let me show you what I’ve learned. When a male mollok is aroused, there are many, many things he can do to a female.” His cock head pulsed, teasing her with the promise of fucking.
Unable to hold herself back, Thorn groaned.
Ledderik laughed and shoved himself further in. She clawed weakly at his chest. The injected chemical, some mollok hormone perhaps, had relaxed her muscles as well as her mind. A tentacle returned to her neck and looped over it, aiming for her mouth, heavy on her skin. Unable to see below, she felt others trap her breasts then pulse and begin to suck.
That alone had her arching, moaning.
His body shifted, his hands pressed down on her upper thighs, and something wet and soft engulfed her clit, flicking, teasing, pulling at it, then sucking again, and driving her into the stratosphere.
Arching even higher, she cried out her confusion.
“I see you like my second tongue.”
Then he returned to licking at her, holding her down when he wished to, massaging her breasts until they were heavy and heated. He coiled over her, pressing and prying, stimulating her at clit and cunt and mouth and nipple, then waiting for her to recover.
Then he began again – turning her, bending her, finding new ways to abuse her.
Panting, incoherent, and babbling, she wondered if there was any part of her he’d not possessed.
Each time she approached a climax, he relented and stopped.
She’d try to curl up over that over-sensitized area, and when she did, he’d roughly bind her to the floor.
Though driven wild and to extremes of cursing, still she did not beg.
When, after eons of suckling, prodding, and poking, he let her come, he embraced as she shook and bucked.
Exhausted, she lay crumpled and splayed on her back, staring at the stars above.
No muscle on her still functioned as it should. I’m dead. Had she said that aloud?
“And I haven’t even fucked you properly.” He was beside her, lying on his side, head propped on elbow. “Beg me, s’kar girl.”
He stirred her clit with an idle tentacle and through the daze she spied his secondary tongue. It was long and forked and flickering, and it tasted the air, it tasted the skin of her arm and breast.
That was what had helped bring her to this. “I’m so dead,” she said softly. “An apocalypse of sex has undone me.”
He laughed. “Then beg me.”
Lazily, she shook her head. “That tongue is not real.”
“Oh, it is. They just hid it on page four of the Sexuality of the Mollok starwebz entry.”
The ends of the tongue glistened. He crawled down her body and with his hands anchored to either side, lowered his head, and began once more to lick at her.
Her cries were soon stifled by a mouth-stopping tentacle, but she was past caring. He made her buck into another orgasm then lifted her higher, at the very edge of the pool. He stuffed tentacles into her every hole, wringing her breasts until the nipples popped up red and shiny from the licking he’d given them. By then, the fluids dripped from her – her own and the products of his mating tentacle that plunged into her cunt and mouth by turns while he ravaged her ass.
When given temporary respite, he lavished her with a gaze as menacing and obsessed as ever.
“Are you not done?” she whispered from her tilted backward position – stretched with her head low and her hair swinging above the pool. The very tips of her hair glanced across the surface and scared the little blue fish. Those darted away also from the drips of her sweat and the gods knew what else that spilled from her mouth and from between her legs.
The pull on her tail said he gripped her there also. As if she might break free. As if she wanted to.
Blearily, she blinked, for salt had encrusted the corners of her eyes, as she waited for him to deign to answer.
“You haven’t begged me to stop, little Thorn...and without that, I’m not inclined.”
Little. She’d found she liked being called little. Besides he was a prodigiously large being.
The tentacle currently stuffed into her pussy revolved a little and withdrew enough that she felt the emptiness and keened for it. She cried out at the lack, softly asking for more, please more, but so quietly that only she could hear.
By wriggling and undulating her belly, with her wrists tugging at where he held her arms to the sides, she really was begging, even if he didn’t count that.
<
br /> Little did he know how much she was enjoying this.
By the fourth orgasm wrung from her, her muscles had lost all life and all strength, and she hung with her arms outstretched and brushed by the fall of her white hair, slowly rotating and upside-down in his grasp.
“Beg me.”
She shook her head.
She mumbled a swear word she’d learned on BART, and smirked.
“No? Still no?” He spun her and latched his suckers onto her clit, nibbling and lapping, drawing it back to life.
After one last monstrous, mind-fracturing climax, he drew her to him and walked, and she was laid out upon the blue quilted bed. His weight pressed down the cushions, and he made her roll into his presence, a planet pulled to the greatest body in the system.
He cradled her, licking her sore areas, massaging. “Will you not submit and beg to me, Thorn?” He kissed her nape.
She mumbled her reply of yes, then had to summon the energy to say it again and louder. “I’m begging. Yes. Please.”
Though she’d long ago lost all memory of what to beg for.
“Too late. At least you’ve said it.” He smoothed her hair, patting her, wrapping her up. He was and always had been her protector, and she knew nothing could reach her or hurt her while she was in his arms...and tentacles. “Sleep. The morning comes.”
There was something else... “Talk? We have to.”
“We will have our talk when you wake. Why did you not give in?”
Fatigue pulled her into oblivion but she slurred a reply. “’Cause, I liked it...too much.”
“I suspected this.” His laughter faded and she snuggled into him, and slept.
Chapter 23
When Thorn stirred, Led lifted her from the bed and walked outside to the pool, going deep enough that his lap was submersed when he sat. By then she was fully awake.
The water was, of course, just the right temperature for a mollok. A little cool for a s’kar, he guessed, from the peaking of her nipples. Idly, he stirred the water with his appendages. Seeing them sliding through water on the opposite side of the pool, yet those appendages also being him was a surprising revelation. Took a while getting used to being mollok.
“Hmmm.” Thorn slid her palm up his arm until she found biceps.
Blade (Dark Monster Fantasy Book 3) Page 15
