Training Planet

by Tilton, Emily

  She could hear in his words that he would not have spoken them if he hadn’t known the effect they would have on her, the way they would bring her close to another climax, the way the degradation fed on itself and made the need even greater. His knowledge of her—of her wanton nature, of the effect humiliation had on her—seemed strangely consoling then. No—not merely consoling, but even better…

  Captain Edwards knew her, and he wanted to take care of her, even though the way Britana Geran needed to be taken care of amounted to such abasement. She needed to be his little whore… she needed to have his cock inside her, whenever and however he chose… she needed to go over his knee, when he decided she should…

  Not now, though; she couldn’t bear another spanking. She slowed her fingers between her legs, she put out her tongue, and with a tiny whimper she began to lick her master’s balls.

  “That’s it,” the captain murmured, and gave another of the little grunts that told Britana she had provided him with pleasure. “Oh, sweetheart, you’re going to make me come.”

  To her confusion he pulled her face away, then, and stopped his hand on his cock.

  “I’m going to come inside your bottom,” he said gently, as if he knew how her heart jumped in alarm at the news, “after I open your cunny. Ship girls take the cock in every hole, their first time serving an officer.”

  Britana heard a long, low moan come from somewhere, and she felt somebody’s thighs quiver as a jolt of obscene desire went from somebody’s pussy all the way through her body. It took a full second—as she perceived the passage of time, here on her knees before her master’s cock, at least—for her to understand whose pussy it was.

  She felt her whole face crumple, as the words echoed in her mind, her eyes still locked on the captain’s face. Her heart thudded wildly, and her breath came in little pants. How could he just say it?

  How can I… It’s too big… I’m too little, back there, down there…

  But she had seen Melora shafted, she remembered with a burning blush. Britana had known—she had known, and the humiliating thought of having the penis there had made her warm between her legs. And Sister Portia had made her clean herself there, in the shower—somehow Britana had managed to forget about that.

  Her fingers moved of their own accord, in her pussy, and she gave a whimpering little cry at how the pleasure and the comfort contrasted with the shame and the fear of Captain Edwards’ words.

  “What is it, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice low and kind though he held her head so dominantly.

  “Please,” Britana whispered. “It’s… it will hurt.”

  The captain nodded gravely. “Yes, Britana. But the more you get used to it the less it will hurt. I’ll make sure your bottom is thoroughly trained, and you’ll get to like it before long. Did Sister Portia have you wash your anus for me?”

  Britana bit her lip as she nodded.

  “And how did that feel?”

  Her mouth twisted to the side, and she lowered her eyes.

  “Look at me, sweetheart,” the captain said, his voice sterner now. “How did it feel, when you washed your little bottom out?”

  Britana closed her eyes and made a little mewling sound as she exhaled through her nose. With a mighty effort and very hot cheeks she opened them again, and looked into Captain Edwards’ face, which to her dismay seemed to have grown less patient—hungrier, as if Britana’s bashful responses made him even more eager to take her virginity and claim her completely. As if in confirmation, she saw him begin to pump his hard shaft again, slowly and almost idly. The huge, rigid thing seemed to jump of its own accord, menacing her with its promise of shameful initiation.

  “Good,” she whispered, and saw a smile play on the captain’s lips, though the hunger didn’t vanish.

  Then time seemed to compress itself again, as he stood, and lifted her up too. He put his hand on her bottom, and held her possessively there even as he propelled her toward the bedroom. She saw the enormous bed—bigger even than the one in the master bedroom of her childhood home.

  A bench stood there too, of the very same kind as the one in the schoolroom, with the same sort of restraints hanging from it. The sight made her draw back with a tiny cry of alarm.

  “Shh, Britana,” Captain Edwards said. “We won’t use the straps to hold you in place unless you need them.”

  Britana had to stifle another whimper at that thought, because the idea that she did need them seemed to wash over her with such power that her knees became loose. She felt certain for a moment that the captain would immediately declare that, yes, he had to restrain her on the bench for her first fucking, and she nearly collapsed to the floor at the effect that idea had on her body.

  But her new master didn’t lead her to the bench. With his hand still on her bottom to remind her of the punishment she had received already and the further punishment he would give if she proved disobedient, he urged her toward the huge bed. When they reached its foot, he turned her toward him and she realized that at some point, probably when he had first stood her up and moved her toward the bedroom, he had taken off all his clothes.

  Again she nearly succumbed to the faintness brought on by all the degradation of this obscene initiation. Towering, handsome, hairy, and so very masculine, Captain Edwards stood with his long, hard penis in his hand. He lifted it so that when he pulled Britana close to him with one hand on her bottom and the other on her back, its rigid shaft pressed against the soft skin of her tummy like a warning that her master meant to be strict with her.

  Then he moved the hand on her back upward, to cradle her head, and he kissed her firmly, opening her lips with his, so that she felt his beard prickle a little on her face. His hand on her bottom went further down, and parted her thighs to claim her needy pussy in the now-familiar caress that completely undid her, all the more potent with his hardness against her bare skin. Britana cried out into his mouth, so close to another orgasm that she wanted to beg him to stop.

  At last the captain broke the kiss, and she found herself turned again, with her back to the bed, and found herself lifted up and laid down so that she cried out to see him looming above her. His hands under her knees parted her legs and bent them back, and she watched him look down hungrily at her virgin cleft, her face burning.

  The examination in the doctor’s office hadn’t held so much humiliation, for Captain Edwards’ assessing gaze seemed to evaluate whether Britana Geran’s pussy was as fuckable as it should be. On involuntary instinct, she put her hands down to cover herself.

  “Take those away,” the captain said sternly. “I’ll look at your cunny as much as I please. You belong to my ship, now, and your tight little quim most of all.”

  Chapter 18

  Britana gave a softly falling cry of shame. She looked up into his eyes, and drew her naughty, modest hands up slowly so that Vincent could see the sweet little slit with its pink inner lips just peeping out and glistening enticingly from Britana’s frantic self-pleasure. The prospect of claiming her completely and taking his pleasure there for the first time made his cock jump with anticipation.

  “Hold your knees open,” he instructed, returning his left hand to the rigid shaft and putting his right out to caress the girl’s tiny breasts. Britana gave a little shudder at the touch of his fingers on her left nipple, as Vincent pinched her lightly there, just to teach her how closely pain and pleasure ran together in the body of a ship girl. “High and wide for me. Pull them back as far as you can.”

  With a convulsive movement, Britana obeyed, reaching for her knees with a jerking, almost desperate motion, as if she couldn’t process all the thoughts and sensations arising inside her at the sight of her master’s naked body, the touch of his hands, his words of shameful instruction. With a little whimper she pulled her legs up and apart, rolling her thoroughly whipped backside up so that Vincent could see laid before him all her most private places for the first time. Her tiny button of a bottom-hole lay wrinkly and adorable like a fl
ower bud just below the sweet virgin hole where he would enter her now to make her his own.

  He raised his eyes to Britana’s red face and caught her looking down, over her tummy, to see as much as she could of what her master had made her display to him. Even in the doctor’s examination chair, Vincent reflected, she hadn’t been able to catch such a clear sight of her young quim, and Britana obviously couldn’t resist the wicked temptation to see her own charms, lewdly exposed.

  The embarrassed but terribly aroused expression on the girl’s face sent a jolt of need through Vincent’s hips. He reached over to take one of the special firm wedge cushions the Sisters of Service always put in the bedrooms of their hospitality suites. Britana gave a cry of surprise as he pushed it under her hips, rolling her up even further with his other hand, so that she could see even more of herself—could see, above all, what her master did then: to lay the head of his cock atop her sweet cunny, so that he could move it up and down in the tender pout of her slick private lips.

  Her eyes rose to meet his, as Vincent divided his attention between what the head of his rigid manhood did between her legs and the effect it had on those eyes, her brow, the rosebud mouth he had deflowered a few minutes before. He watched her forehead crease as she looked up at him, and he thought he could see the position in which he had laid her down and exposed her on his bed take its full effect: the new ship girl below, her captain above her, his cock beginning to have its way in her virgin cunt.

  Britana took her lower lip between her teeth for a moment, and then she whispered, “You’re… kind, aren’t you, Captain?”

  Somehow Vincent could tell—to his delight—that she understood that being kind, for a Magisterian at least, could mean doing something a ship girl needed but for which she couldn’t ask.

  “I am, sweetheart. This is going to hurt, but only for a moment.” As he spoke, he moved his cockhead downward, and made her draw a sharp breath as he lodged it where it must go, so that she could begin her life as a fucking piece for his ship’s pleasurable use. “Then it’s going to feel wonderful.”

  “Not like…” she whispered. “Not like my…”

  “Not like your bottom,” he confirmed. “I want you to enjoy yourself on my penis first.”

  He moved the tip of his rigid shaft in and out very gently, pressed it against the place where it made her gasp.

  “And then?” she breathed.

  “Then you’ll submit as you must,” he confirmed. Britana’s need to know about, as well as to feel, all the things her body would experience in the new life that seemed so shameful and so paradoxically alluring, charmed him. “You are a girl from a conquered world. Your submission to the penis in your pretty bottom represents your planet’s shame. It will hurt at first, as I told you, but even after you begin to find it pleasurable, the right of an officer to use you there when he chooses will symbolize Magisteria’s dominance.”

  The girl’s face crumpled as her captain explained the fundamental part of the lesson, one reserved for the officer who first opened a new ship girl’s anus on his manhood. Ordinarily the girl, incurious but panting with arousal, received the information as the officer prepared to enjoy her bottom. Britana’s curiosity made Vincent want to add to her quim’s defloration this different, unique element: the girl clearly had an arousal pattern that revolved closely around anal pleasure.

  “Now I want you to think about your little cunt though, Britana,” he said softly, his eyes falling again to see the place where he had begun to claim her. “Look. Can you see the cock inside you?”

  Britana moaned through tightly closed lips. Vincent raised his eyes again to see her nod sharply and repeatedly.

  “I’m going to go all the way in, now,” Vincent said, looking into her eyes and gripping the taut, creamy backs of her thighs in his fingers as he thrust his hips hard and drove his manhood deep into the velvet tunnel of her virgin cunny.

  Britana cried out and writhed under him, her eyes squeezed shut, but Vincent held her firmly in place and began fucking her without delay, teaching her the way of a man’s needs and pleasures from the very beginning. He knew, too, that the stimulation inside her would drive away the pain all the more quickly. Indeed, to his delight, her next cry had much more ambiguity to it, and her eyes flew open to look up at him, going wide, her lips parting in evident pleasure as she felt her master’s muscular lap pound the well-disciplined cheeks of her little bottom.

  Holding on to her thigh firmly with one hand, Vincent moved the other to Britana’s adorable clit, thumbing the little nub gently through its wet folds. As he caressed her, his hips still pistoning his rigid manhood in and out of her wonderfully tight quim, he kept his eyes trained on hers. The girl cried out, and lost hold of her knees as her body bucked under Vincent’s.

  “Keep yourself open for me,” he growled. “All the way open for the cock.”

  Her eyes traveled downward again, and he watched her see his penis thrusting in and out, the evidence of her taken virginity staining the long, hard shaft. She cried out in submissive pleasure, and took hold of her knees again. Then, as if his words had thrown fuel on the fire of her need, Britana’s backside rose from the cushion he had put under her, to meet the driving of her master’s cock, and Vincent felt her contract, deep inside.

  The climax took hold of Britana, her very first with a man’s hardness in her cunny. She screamed at the pleasure’s intensity, and she closed her eyes tightly, her face going very red with the embarrassment of knowing the captain who fucked her could see every abandoned detail of her forced pleasure.

  Vincent kept rubbing her rosy clit as the spasms of Britana’s climax seized her again and again, a new gasp of pleasure accompanying each one. He kept fucking her all the while, loving to look down himself and watch the lewd site of his stiff penis surging in and out of the smooth, no-longer-virgin cunt. Sister Portia had prepared the new ship girl well, in body and mind, he reflected; Britana’s submissive need made her an extremely pleasurable fuck, and she would represent a fine addition to the Indus’ crew.

  After her orgasm, the girl lay quieter beneath him, just holding her knees wide and moaning with each hard thrust of Vincent’s cock. He put his arms beneath her, then, and lifted her from the bed as she cried out in surprised alarm. Her arms went instinctively round his shoulders as he carried her easily across the room to the fucking bench.

  “Captain?” Britana asked. “What are you…”

  Vincent kissed her hard, a growl rising in his throat as if to warn against any thought of resistance. Britana didn’t resist, though, as he turned her, his hardness remaining buried in her quim almost the whole time, and put her atop the bench, so that he could instantly begin fucking her that way.

  Britana cried out, as if the connection between sex and discipline had made itself within her body, in a jolt of electric arousal. Still fucking her, his lap pounding against the round little cheeks that Sister Portia had marked so sternly with the strap, he began to secure the leather restraints, beginning with the belt that went over a girl’s waist to hold her backside firmly in place.

  At the feeling of him binding her on the bench, Britana reared her head back, and ground her hips against the bench. She had found the difference between a whipping bench and a fucking bench: the little knob that consoled a girl as she submitted to her master’s enjoyment. Britana gave a scream of pleasure, and came again, while Vincent finished securing her for her final defloration, his cock moving in and out of her sweet cunny all the while, but more slowly and soothingly.

  “There,” he murmured, fastening her right knee to the bench, and then her left, and speaking into her ear.

  “You said… you said only if I… need it?” Britana gasped, her voice tremulous and soft, as if her master had tamed her utterly with his thrusting hardness. “But…”

  Vincent smiled, knowing she would say, But I want to, if he let her continue. Instead he spoke with authority, as he pulled his cock from her quim and took half a step back f
rom the bench.

  “Reach back and hold your bottom open for me,” he said. “Offer me that little anus.”

  Britana gave a sob as she understood that she did need the leather straps to hold her down—that her submission to this act of conquest was meant to degrade her, and that to her dismay her body found the humiliation terribly arousing. She reached back, whimpering as she took her whipped cheeks into her slender fingers, and she spread herself so that Vincent could see the sweet, tiny flower pink and ready for a ship girl’s most difficult sort of training.

  From the little table just to his right, positioned so that an officer could have easy access to all the implements he might want to employ as he enjoyed a ship girl, Vincent took a bottle of lube. Britana gasped, and let go of her bottom-cheeks when she felt its coolness on her master’s fingers.

  “Keep them open,” Vincent warned. “Show me where I’m going to put my cock.”

  She gave a tiny sob and obeyed, so that her narrowest, most private hole came into view again. Britana moaned as Vincent entered her with one finger, stretching the tight little ring so that her body trembled with mingled shame and pleasure—and then two, the greater girth making the girl gasp and whimper.

  “You’ll keep your hands there, holding your bottom, while you’re fucked,” he instructed, and then he enforced the command with cuffs from the table that attached with a ring to the bench’s belt.

  Britana turned her face over her shoulder to watch this with troubled eyes, her lower lip caught between her teeth. Vincent, looking into her eyes, put his hand on her back and rubbed there, gently, to soothe her. His other hand held his hard cock, though, and now he laid its head against the wrinkly button where he would teach the girl this difficult lesson. Her brow creased as she felt the beginning of the steady pressure to which her little anus must yield, and open upon a man’s hardness for the first time.

  “Eyes front, sweetheart,” he said, with a gentleness that belied the words’ degradation, still stroking her back. “This bottom belongs to me, now.”