In any case, here was proof that it was a fact and entirely possible that primitive people could live side-by-side with technologically advanced people, maintain much of their tradition and culture, and still be completely aware of and interact with that alien culture.
Somehow the culture on this world hadn’t advanced a very great deal despite advanced alien visitations.
Possibly because they were just that determined not to allow the aliens to influence their culture?
She might, and did, feel almost as if she’d been caught up in some sort of very elaborate hoax, but that was less likely and less logical than accepting everything as a new reality for her.
And, unfortunately, she counted her chances of convincing the big lug that had bought her that nothing bad would happen if they just sneaked by the temples at slightly lower than zero.
More unfortunately, it seemed she was the currency he was using for travel!
Boy didn’t those bastards at the temple have a sweet deal going! Everybody that went by had to pay a toll—so they got in all of their screwing, blessed the travelers, and waited for the next!
“Do you …uh … travel much?” she asked tentatively.
He frowned—a look of confusion—but after a moment his brow cleared and his expression lightened. She almost thought she saw a flicker of amusement in his strange eyes. “Why?”
Brandi felt heat blast her face. She gaped at him, unable to force the heat of embarrassment from her face or to think of a response. After a moment, though, he transferred his gaze from her face to the temple in the distance, staring at it, his expression unreadable at first but hardening slightly.
It gave Brandi food for thought as they closed the distance between themselves and the temple. Was there a chance—even a tiny one—that she might actually survive this? Was there a hidden kernel of decency or pity—of empathy—inside this great, hulking monster that had bought her?
And, saying there was, could she figure out a way to tap into it?
Or was she doomed to horror, misery, and eventual death? Was the life she’d had before all that she would be allowed in relative happiness?
Because if that was the case it totally sucked ass! She hadn’t been particularly happy, damn it! She hadn’t been particularly unhappy, if it came to that, but there was no getting around the fact that she hadn’t been particularly satisfied with the life she’d had. She’d been working hard to make it better!
* * * *
As if they’d been expecting them—known they were coming—the priests began to beat the temple gongs even as THE MASTER—Ulrick –the Tank pulled his beast to a halt at the base of the temple. Dismounting, Ulrick dragged her from the saddle and led her up the stairs. Her knees trembled, threatening to give way beneath her and send her tumbling down the stone steps once more. By the time they reached the piazza, she was shaking all over.
Despite the pep-talk she’d given herself about the futility of resisting—indeed the likelihood that it would make things worse for her, she did resist as the priests moved to take her—couldn’t help it—pulling back against the chain. The priests on either side of her grasped her arms, dragging her toward the entrance of the temple, lifting her when she stumbled.
The temple looked much the same as the first. Inside, torches lined the stone walls of a long corridor. She was marched down it and down a flight of stairs and at the end she saw that there was a room with a pool as there had been in the other temple.
They stripped her and bathed her as the priests had at the first temple and it dawned on her that this was a part of their strange religious ritual—they weren’t just cleaning her up for usage. It was like … a purification, she supposed. When she was led from the pool, she was forced down on a bench. Because she had struggled, one priest knelt at the head of the bench and held the chain to her manacles tightly. Two others grasped her ankles and held them while another priest spread oils over her body and scraped her flesh, though she thought it impossible that she could have so much as a follicle of hair left.
It was worse, she supposed, because her shock had abandoned her allowing her absolute clarity of perception. Inwardly, she cringed when her legs were spread wide and her genitals scraped as the rest of her body had been, but they’d made it impossible to shy away outwardly.
It would’ve been a relief when they finally finished and led her into the pool again, except that she knew what came next. She would be led to the altar.
And she knew what was going to happen once there.
She would be fucked half to death so that they could extract—whatever the hell it was they thought they were getting in sacrifice to their god.
Supposing they actually believed the bullshit they’d convinced the other people on this world to believe!
Despite every effort to convince herself that cooperation was her best defense, she fought them, trying to break free in a mindless panic that took no consideration of the fact that she had nowhere to run to and no real chance of escaping all of them even if she managed to break free for a few moments. They caught her, lifting her up into the air and carrying her down the stairs on their shoulders.
She didn’t know whether to be glad or sorry that they didn’t cover her head with the hood.
It was frightening to be blinded.
On the other hand, she wasn’t sure she actually wanted to see what was about to happen—would happen.
To her surprise, once they reached the ceremonial room, she didn’t see anything that looked like it might be the same sort of contraption she was bound to before. She looked around in confusion when they’d set her on her feet. The chain attached to her manacles was seized and her arms lifted above her head. Seeing their intent, she began to struggle again, tugging at the chain. She was caught and held while the chain was attached to the hook hanging from the ceiling. When the two men released her, they caught her legs. She kicked out at them, but the struggle was all too brief. Within moments, they had captured her legs and fitted a manacle around each ankle. Chains pulled her legs apart until she was forced to stand on her tiptoes or hang from her arms.
She couldn’t see the High Priest as he entered the room, but she heard him as he called out something to the other priests—in the manner and tone of an announcement. The priests dropped the robes they were wearing to the floor and moved toward her, chanting.
A jolt of shock went through her when they discarded their robes.
They actually looked more human than alien—although their skin tones were certainly not human.
Regardless, they were clearly another race than the Tank—Ulrick, if not a completely different species.
Each wore an obscene red penis strapped to their bellies above their own cocks.
So this god they worshiped, Nhewa, had two penises?
Or did it mean something else entirely that totally escaped her at the moment?
Brandi stared at them, horrified, as they began to shuffle around her, striking her with some sort of whip-like instruments, except that the fibers hanging limply from the tips didn’t hurt—not precisely. As they slapped them against her breasts, her belly, thighs and buttocks, her skin began to tingle, to grow more sensitive the longer the ‘thrashing’ went on. They’d moved around her three times when one of the priests stepped from the line and knelt before her. Grasping the lips of her sex, he parted them and began to suck at her tender flesh.
A jolt went through her. She jerked, lost her precarious pose, and the weight of her body tugged painfully at her arms. With an effort, she caught her balance and rose up on her tiptoes once more. She’d barely regained her stance when another man detached himself from the group and caught one of her nipples between his teeth, tugging at it almost painfully, forcing fiery sensation through the receptive tip and into her body.
She closed her eyes, fighting her body’s response, but knowing even as she tried that she could not really fight it. Pleasure surged through her despite her best efforts.
She
groaned in despair as another man detached himself from the group and began to tug at her other nipple. Behind her, yet another grasped her buttocks and parted them, licking the cheeks and the cleft between them.
The man sucking at her clit moved away. Before she could draw a breath of relief, another took his place. As they had at the previous temple, the priests moved over her body as if they meant to devour her, gnawing almost painfully at her flesh at times, licking, sucking any part of her body that was sensitive to stimulation and she began to think every part of her body was sensitive, some more than others. They came and left again, moving steadily around her, taking turns driving her almost to the breaking point. Her nipples quickly began to throb incessantly. Her belly clenched and unclenched, saturated with warm moisture. Her clit pulsed with need when no one touched it and pounded harder when they did.
By the time the third had knelt between her legs, pushed the fleshy petals apart and began to suck her clit, she was so drunk with the haze of lust filling her that if they had not surrounded her, holding her in place she would have fallen and hung from her arms until they separated from their sockets. The third rammed a large finger into her passage, thrusting it inside her over and over as he caught her clit in his mouth and sucked it. He’d barely begun to suck the achingly sensitive bud of flesh when her body began to convulse in waves of keen rapture.
Unable to stop herself, she groaned as it seized her in an uncompromising grip.
Either he was unaware of the fact that she’d reached culmination, or it was immaterial to him whether she did or not. He continued to lick and suck her clit, driving his finger into her over and over until she was screaming with the jolts of pleasure that continued to wrack her body as long as he stimulated it. She collapsed weakly when he moved away, struggling to catch her breath. Her body was still pounding with the hard echoes of her release when another stepped from the circle.
Her nipples ached from the almost constant fondling. The muscles along her passage continued to spasm many minutes after her climax began to fade. Blood beat in her clit to the pounding rhythm of her heart, making it almost painfully sensitive.
It almost seemed more devastating to her senses than having release denied her for so long and she tried to move away from the man who opened his mouth over her breast and began pulling at the nipple.
A man knelt between her thighs, pushed the flesh apart, and fastened his mouth over her clit, thrusting a finger inside of her. One knelt behind her, parted her buttocks and pushed his finger into her rectum.
That intrusion was such a surprise that it shifted her focus abruptly. She flinched, struggled to elude the invasive touch, pressing more tightly against the man in front of her who was tugging at her clit with his mouth. Despite the discomfort, pleasure began to radiate through her body from the fingers thrusting into both orifices. Within moments, her body surged swiftly toward release. She was still hovering on the edge when both withdrew. She slumped, gasping, feeling almost as stunned as if she’d stepped inadvertently onto nothing but air when she’d expected something solid.
She was still struggling to come to terms with the abrupt withdrawal when another took his place. Almost the moment his mouth closed over her clit, her body began to tremble with impending release. She cried out as he rammed his finger inside of her passage, coming. Blind and deaf to her jerking, convulsing body, her desperate, gasping cries as she passed beyond her endurance, the ritual proceeded without pause. The man continued to thrust his finger in and out of her, tugging and sucking on her clit as if he’d found a particularly succulent berry and meant to suck it dry. His stimulation, and that of the others who fondled and sucked her breasts and belly, forced her body to continue to spasm with release until she was screaming.
She fainted, she thought, for several moments, completely losing awareness of her surroundings. Still, the ritual continued unabated. Brandi surfaced to consciousness once more as the pleasure coursing through her body began to wind the tension inside of her toward release again.
Over and again, they brought her to culmination that was so intense, so devastating to her senses that she would reach a point where she couldn’t bear it any longer and swoon. She had climaxed until there wasn’t an ounce of strength left in her body by the time they finally ceased to torment her. Only half conscious, she was barely aware of being released until she collapsed into someone’s arms. Lifting her head with an effort, she saw that it was Ulrick who held her and relief went through her.
She’d begun to think she would die from the pleasure, but it was over. They would allow her to rest.
To her stunned surprise, she was set on her feet and pushed down on a cold stone slab that bit into her belly and ribs. Weakly, she tried to rise as she felt her ankles caught in two hard hands.
Her legs were pulled apart and her ankles manacled once more. When she felt a tug on her wrist manacles, she looked up and saw that Ulrick was in front of her, removing them.
A mixture of surprise, relief, and confusion filled her when she saw him. She hadn’t expected to see him, hadn’t thought he’d had any part of the ritual before.
And maybe he hadn’t.
But he was here now and she couldn’t decide whether he was here to rescue her or take part in her torment.
As her arms dropped limply on either side of the bench, they were caught and her arms manacled once more, this time to either side of her.
She felt a hand skate over her buttocks. Despite her exhaustion, she twisted, trying to look behind her. She could only move far enough to get a glimpse of the man, however. Her heart began to pound as she felt the man behind her pushing her buttocks wide, felt—a finger she thought at first—probing her rectum and one probing her vagina. Both were a good deal larger than a finger she discovered. The moment he had aligned both penises, he thrust inside of her.
Brandi gasped at the double penetration, feeling more surprise than either pain or pleasure at first. Ulrick seized her hair, turning her head so that she faced him and shoved his cock into her gasping mouth. Belatedly, she tried to struggle but found with little surprise that she had been bound so tightly she could not move in any direction, could not escape the triple penetration as the priests rammed into her body.
If she’d had the energy, or even the ability to think, she might have tried to bite the cock that was shoved into her mouth, but she had neither.
Which was probably just as well, or maybe much better than that.
They all seemed almost as if they had lost all awareness of the real world, had been caught up in some sort of blind trance, but one bite might have broken the spell in a bad way—for her.
That thought spawned the rather belated sense of self-preservation she needed. She could endure this! She could, and then she had a chance to live.
If she kept fighting she wasn’t going to win and she might not live long.
There was pleasure.
She wouldn’t have volunteered to take part in such a thing, but she at least had the consolation that they were forcing her to experience pleasure—some discomfort—but very little actual pain.
She should just count her blessings and be very, very good.
With those thoughts to bolster her, instead of simply remaining docile and allowing Ulrick to move his cock in and out of her mouth, she cupped her tongue and cheeks around his engorged member, sucking him. She felt a shudder go through him. It sent an answering wave of pleasure through her, joining with the rising tide of pleasure she could not stem from the man pounding frenziedly into her vagina and rectum.
Within moments, her body exploded with ecstasy. Almost mindless with the pleasure, she sucked the cock in her mouth ravenously as the convulsions swept through her. Abruptly, he caught the sides of her face in his hands, jerking as he reached his crisis. She sucked harder, felt his hot seed hit the back of her throat and kept sucking until she’d milked him dry.
When she released him at last, Ulrick was trembling with the effort to remain standing.
A sense of triumph penetrated Brandi’s dazed mind.
Gasping for breath, Ulrick finally knelt and released her hands. To her relief, her ankles were released, as well, and Ulrick hauled her limp form from the stone, cuddled her against his chest and carried her up the stairs.
She struggled to retain her consciousness, but she was only vaguely aware of being lain on the bed and the heat of Ulrick’s body as he settled beside her and threw an arm and leg over her. It was enough, though, to bolster the vague sense of triumph she’d felt when she’d pleasured him, to convince her she’d just had at least a small ‘win’.
When the sound of movement woke her, Brandi realized that it was morning. Blearily, she lifted her head and stared at the priests who’d filed into the room. She didn’t protest or struggle when they caught her up and walked her down to the pool. The bath was soothing, almost enjoyable after her ordeal of the night before. It would’ve been more soothing if her body had not hummed to life almost the moment they began stroking her.
She began to have her first inkling that her ordeal wasn’t over when she was dried, but led from the room naked. She didn’t fully grasp the implications, however, until the procession turned toward the stairs once more. By then, it was too late to offer any resistance.
She was almost relieved when they didn’t chain her as they first had the day before. Instead, she was placed on her back on the altar. Her wrists were manacled to her sides. A strap was placed over her ribs just below her breasts and tightened. Another was strapped across her hips. They caught her ankles then, secured a manacle to each and her legs until they were almost perpendicular to her body before they spread them wide. The chanting and dancing began almost at once.
The stone altar they’d placed her upon was too short to support her entire body. Her hips dangled over the edge of one end, her head and neck the other. She strained to hold her head up for a time and finally allowed it to fall backwards, resting, her eyes closed.
Alien Slavers II: Breaking Brandi Page 4
