by Aubrey Cara
A playful grin stretches his full beautiful lips. “And what did you do that offended her so greatly she’d risk her life to sell you off planet?”
“She didn’t sell me. She tried to kill me. Even now, she thinks me dead.”
His playful smile vanishes, and his brows pull down.
“Sana’s capable of breeding,” Banx announces.
The other Monrok step near the pad, surrounding me on either side to pass the scanner around, their huge forms blocking out the overhead light. I find their nearness as constricting as exhilarating.
“I thought all veran and gearan were sterilized at birth,” Jor says to the others.
“All gearan, yes,” I interject. “Nothing has changed for them.”
Gearan are the veran’s male counterpart. They’re all sterilized at birth but still have a functioning sex, so they may pleasure both their male and female masters…if that is their master or mistress’s wish. It surely was my master’s wish.
When a male or female Zapexian is born with black eyes, they are labeled a lower caste and sent to temple to be raised. They test you when you’re young so they can place you. The better your gift of second sight and such, the higher the household you eventual get trained for.
“We veran are almost all blessed with the second sight,” I continue, and they all nod like they know this. “But some, like me, have special powers.”
“That thing you did, making an energy shield, was pretty special, all right,” the beautiful Monrok says, clearly impressed. He’s been toying with my hand, and at his words, lifts it to his mouth. He presses his full lips to my palm. The unexpectedly gentle act sends tingles up my arm and spreads through my body.
Jor smacks his shoulder. “Knock it off. I’m getting a cockstand watching you mouth fuck her hand.”
I snatch my hand back self-consciously then scold myself. I’m not nearly as experienced as most veran. I was sent to my master’s house young, and he was far more interested in the gearan than me. Master only touched me when I came of age to mark me with his scent and even then, Pippen was there.
It was more ceremonial than anything. And unlike most highborn households, I was the only veran in residence. I had no sisters in the house to learn from or find pleasure and solace with.
My master’s honored mate, Keela, was jealous of the attention master showed the gearan, but she hated me. The only reason she tolerated me was because she had to. I was a gift from the king himself.
A gift that was left on the shelf most of the time.
Nervously, I look up at Banx. He’s staring down at me, calm and steady. It helps me center myself and remember the priestesses’ teachings. Always remain in control. If I keep the Monrok talking, perhaps they will not fall on me in lust too quickly.
My heart ricochets around my chest at the thought and I can’t breathe for a moment. I move to undo the strap at my waist, wishing I could sit up and maybe move around for this discussion, but Banx bats my hand away again. When I frown up at him, he only crosses his arms over his chest.
Fine.
What was the question? That’s right. What ultimately led me to be here.
“Veran like me can harness the atmospheric elements of the universe.” I lift my hand and make the air swirl around Banx, so his hair ruffles. His lips twitch as if he’s amused.
Using my abilities to make that shield wall had been a first for me. I’ve never used my powers much, afraid of punishment if I practiced, but my powers have always been there. Thrumming with life, just waiting to surface.
“All the veran used to get sterilized,” I continue. “And the most powerful of us would serve only in the king’s harem. But King Thaain is different. He likes his experiments.”
The Monrok around me snort and sneer, and I realize they know firsthand just how much King Thaain likes experiments. They were the product of his creative mind. His greatest triumph and, ostensibly, his greatest downfall. The king’s death isn’t widely known on Jar’jn, but being in the household of one of the king’s high council members had its benefits…as well as its drawbacks.
“Thaain secretly ordered the veran not be sterilized until we reached four or five solars,” I tell them. “Those like me…we’re no longer saved for his harem but given to high-born of the king’s choosing, so that we eventually may be bred. My master was part of Thaain’s high council.”
“I guess his honored mate didn’t take too kindly to discovering you were going to be breeding little veran brats,” Jor sneers.
I flush hot and cold in the face of his scorn, unsure if it’s directed at me or Zapex in general.
“Yes. Master told her about Thaain’s plan and that it was time to breed me. I was not looking forward to the event, but Keela…she went a little mad when she found out. She’s always hated me.”
Keela resented my presence in the household and wanted me gone. “She drugged me so I couldn’t fight back.” Then let out solars’ worth of her rage on me. Keela had made my existence misery, but I was still surprised by the attack. She spat such venomous hate at me all the while she hit and kicked me over and over.
“After she beat me to her satisfaction, she ordered the head gearan to kill me and get rid of my body. But he was my friend. He helped secrete me off planet.”
Trust your fate and be brave. Pippen will likely never know how often I’ve needed to do just that, and I haven’t even reached Pacbar yet.
“Such a good friend he sold you to the Ikbar,” Jor mocks.
“That was a mistake.” Pippen would be devastated to know I was taken captive and sold.
“Your master obviously wants you back. He sent warriors after you. Why not just report her?” he asks. “It is illegal to beat a veran.”
A dark laugh breaks out of me. “She would just say I struck her first. Even if all of Jar’jn knows she’s lying, I would still be put to death. She’s a high born, honored mate. I’m a veran.”
Does he think those Zapex were on Ak’ba to rescue me? They were likely there to execute me. The injustice of it all has my fist clenching. My hair waves out in angry snaps.
“I’ve heard Monrok were simple beasts,” I sneer at him, “but I didn’t think you stupid.” The moment the impetuous words are out, I slap a hand over my mouth.
Jor eyes narrow as if he’s thinking of all the ways he’d like to punish me. “You think me a stupid beast, you little—”
“No matter how it came about,” Banx says, putting up a hand to cut off whatever Jor is about to say, “she belongs to us now.”
Jor smirks as if satisfied I belong to him, if only so he can torture me. I shiver under his intense gaze and fight the denial that rises to my lips. I want to tell them I am free of my master now, but it seems I have four new masters. Not only have they bought me, but Banx gave me leave to be handed back over to the Zapex.
I chose the Monrok.
I chose this fate.
Maybe Banx senses my inner conflict because he continues in a tone hard as steel and ice, “We are now your masters. Your mates. Your everything. You do not question anything we demand of you, and you answer to no one but the four of us. Do you understand?”
All too well.
Overwhelmed, I grip the strap around my waist as if that will somehow protect me from whatever fate these Monrok have in store for me. My throat too tightened with nerves to speak, I nod.
“Say it,” he demands.
My gaze drops subserviently, even though I’m lying supine. “Yes, master.” My voice is but a choked whisper.
Banx lifts my chin, just has he did on the stage. He searches my gaze as if trying to look inside my mind. “Do you already regret coming with us?”
I quickly shake my head. Too quickly. His eyes narrow. My mind spins, then I hear Pippen’s words in the back of my mind. Trust your fate and be brave.
It’s all I can do. Come what may, these Monrok are now a part of my journey. Possibly the most pivotal part. I had no idea how I would navigate Pacbar, or
how I would get the attention of the Galactic Unity Council. Now I have the Monrok. Getting their aid without telling them why may be tricky, but that is a worry for another time.
“No, I do not regret coming with you.” This time I meet his gaze steadily, and he nods as if satisfied.
“This is Ast.” Banx indicates the Monrok next to him.
Ast is the hand chopper who took a blast to the leg.
I peek over the side of the hover mat and see the bottom half of his pant leg is ripped away, and a bandage is wrapped around his leg where he was hit.
He’s slightly taller than Banx, but his lean muscular form is built for speed as well as power. His dark hair is much longer than the others. He keeps it in a queue at the back of his head. His gaze is predatory as he watches me, and my skin prickles in awareness like prey about to be snatched.
“You’re acquainted with Jor,” Banx says continuing his introductions. Jor of the surly disposition and scars on the side of his face, just glares at me, his arms folded over his chest. “And the hadhr who can’t keep his hands off you, is Tawn.”
Even now Tawn is twining his fingers in my hair. Petting me. I send strands out to stroke up his arm, petting him back in return, but dare not look directly up at him. Just being near the handsome warrior sends a flush of heat through my body. My skin prickles uncomfortably; I’m hoping they do not notice.
“Are we going to fuck her?” Jor asks.
The air is knocked from my lungs at his blunt words, and I try to shake off my shock. No use prolonging the inevitable. Still, they are four powerful warriors, and I am but one veran.
“Do you all plan to take me at once?” The panicked question is out before I can take it back.
I will my body not to tremble with anxiety at the thought of being stuffed to the breaking point as they make use of my body, even as my thighs reflexively pinch together as some of the natural lubricating oils slide from my channel.
Banx’s sharp gaze narrows on me, his nostrils flaring as if sensing my reaction. His hand nudges between my thighs.
Every muscle in my body tenses as a thick finger enters me. I work to block the onslaught of second sight that hits me. Clips, fragments really of white labs, hunting great beasts on a dark planet, fighting, killing.
I don’t just see it. I’m taken there, through the landscape of his memories. They are thrilling compared to that of my master, Kechlyn, who led a dull spoiled life full of indulgence and cruelty.
I reach my mind out to twine with his and control the visions coming at me, but he stubbornly blocks me. “Do not,” he growls.
Like a whisper of smoke hitting a breeze, I let my channeling connection dissipate. I try to relax and let the visions come and go as they see fit, but not being able to control them means they come at me like jagged pieces of a puzzle. Fragments of past and future, joy and pain.
“Be still,” he says, and I realize I’ve been squirming, trying to break his bold touch. “Open your thighs.”
Before I can comply, Ast and Jor each take a knee, splaying my legs wide open. Then all the Monroks are staring at me there, watching as Banx continues to explore my folds.
“That’s gorgeous.” Ast adjusts the erection pressing his pants and my face heats.
“It looks like a human cunt,” Tawn says.
“But it’s blue,” Ast points out. “The most beautiful blue I’ve ever seen.”
I flush under their attention.
“Does she have a clit?” Tawn is back to trailing his fingers over my torso and breast as if to sooth me.
Banx hums. “I don’t think so.” His brows pull down and his thumb strokes over the top of my opening. I have no idea what a clit is, so I say nothing.
“Are we taking turns or filling all at once?” Tawn asks the group, but his heated gaze is trained on me. “What would you like, little veran? Have you ever served so many masters at once?” He leans all the way down to my ear and whispers, “Do you want to try?”
I hold my breath, unable to answer, my belly filled with nervous flutters. An image, nay a vision of them all moving over me, inside me rushes through my mind’s eyes, making my chest constrict.
I gasp for air. I’m not ready that. They think me an experienced veran concubine, but in truth this will be the most male attention I’ve ever received. I pray that they do not take me all at once. Still, new moisture floods my channel at the thought, a flush working up my entire body.
“Turns,” Jor replies. “It’s bad enough we’re fucking a veran. I don’t want to be staring at your mug the first time I rut a female.”
I stiffen as much at the insult as the realization. He’s never rutted a female? My stomach twists.
Tawn chuckles low. “Worried you’ll be picturing me next time you stroke yourself?” He caresses my cheek, likely hoping to take some of the sting out of Jor’s words.
“She’s tight. Very,” Banx tells the others, cutting off their banter. “Whoever takes her first will have to be careful.”
My maternal orifice is untried, but I’m not sure if I should tell them. I do not want it construed as weakness. I should be glad Banx even mentioned having a care. Monrok, like Zapex, are not known for patience or mercy.
My Zapexian master loved being a gearan’s first, if only so he could hear them scream. The few times he took me, he projected a reel of those memories until I had to block them out and escape my mind.
What if my instincts are wrong, and the Monrok are more like my former master?
Trepidation for what is to come twists my stomach, but then Banx’s digit hits the sensitive nerve laden ring of my opening just right, and my hips jerk.
Watching me intently, he does it again, and I can’t hold back the whimper. I’ve only ever touched myself there, and having his fingers strumming me is so much more…
“Pleasure or pain?” he asks.
Heat spreads up my body, gripping my belly. “Pleasure.”
This time he shows great attention to the spot until my eyes roll back and I’m straining against Ast and Jor who hold my thighs open. Their hands wander higher, skimming over my mound and folds where Banx has his fingers buried.
Heat from my core leaks out in a way I’ve never experienced, not even touching myself late at night in the comfort of my own quarters.
“That’s it,” Tawn encourages. “Let’s see you come for us.”
With a choked gasp I crest, my hips rising off the hover pad.
Banx yanks his fingers from my convulsing channel. I cry out, my eyes flying open to find Banx with his eyes closed, chest heaving.
“Don’t worry little one,” Tawn says from above me. “His cybernetics will get him under control. We’ll not leave you on the brink too long.”
“I’m going first,” Ast says, his voice a hoarse grumble. “I have the thinnest cock of us all.”
The blade he wears on his back clatters to the floor. He’s already stripping his clothes off. Naked, his strange appendage proudly juts out from his groin, and I lose sensation in my legs.
If he’s the smallest…my mind stutters.
While it’s not multi-knobbed like a Zapexian cock, thin is not an apt description. It’s a bit darker than the shade of his skin and so very swollen. It appears as defiant as its master. Whatever he believes he lacks in girth, he certainly makes up for in length.
The long, lean muscles in his chest and shoulders flex and release as he slowly crawls over my body.
I tense for penetration, but instead he sits back on his heels, scoops his hands under my ass, and lifts my cunt to his mouth. His thick tongue licks up the center of my slit before delving inside. He circles the sensitive tissue just inside my opening as if he’s tasting me. Learning me.
“Fuck,” he mutters. “I could spend my life tasting you.” Then he hungrily goes after me, his tongue pressing against my nerve-laden band, working it back and forth.
My breath catches. I strain against the strap that has ridden up to just below my breasts.
Tawn swoops down over me. His lush mouth presses to mine, his tongue licks against my lips. “Open for me, Sana. I’m going to kiss you.”
I don’t know what this is but open my mouth for him. His tongue strokes inside, teasing mine to join in and play with his. He penetrates me deeper just as Ast does down below. With a moan, I lose myself to the two Monrok mouths mating me.
Hands, so many hands knead my breasts, pinch my buds, stroke over my body, hold my thighs wide open. Wet heat engulfs my breasts. I arch as someone sucks a taut bud into their mouth and lightly scrapes over it with their teeth. Shocks of sensations ricochet through me as the Monrok make a feast of my body.
Ast’s tongue and fingers hit my center ring, and my core begins to vibrate. My body begins to tremble.
Just as I am about to beg for more, something just out of reach, there’s a shift of air. My ass is lowered, and a hot bulge is prodding me, pushing past the first ring and into my second. I struggle against the stretching invasion, but the Monrok hold me in place, pulling my knees wider still.
“Steady,” Tawn whispers. “Just relax.” He’s moved to the head of the pad and holds my hands down at either side as he leans over me, languidly sipping at my lips. Grazing his mouth over the hollow of my neck. “We’re not going to hurt you…unless you want us to.” There’s a smile in his voice as well as dark promise. Maybe hope.
My only hope is to make it through being taken by four Monrok, unscathed.
I look down and find Ast’s hard length is only halfway inside me, a fierce expression twisting his face. He’s going slow as to not hurt me, and I try to relax for him. I really do. I’m internally built for Zapexian cocks, which are noded and fill each chamber of my sex, segmented by rings. His pale cock is strangely smooth. The head of it pops through all the tight bands lining my channel before the rest of him glides in, stretching me.
“Fuck,” Ast curses between clenched teeth. “Her cunt vibrates. And has internal bands.” His eyes squeeze shut. “She’s so tight.” He punches his hips forward, burying himself all the way, and I cry out.
