Deep Penetration; Alien Breeders I

by Stacey St. James

  “I’ve been going over that word in my head all day. Some of the survivors we picked up mentioned a colony named Centaurian. The order of the letters seems to match.”

  “We only have four letters. Still, it could be a match.”

  Koryn nodded and then got up and stretched. “Well, I’m for bed. I have work to do in the morning.”

  When he’d left, Tariq stared at his desk for several moments and finally got up and returned to it. It took him nearly an hour to find the system even with most of the coordinates and a fair idea of where to look. It was a binary system with ten planets. The sixth lay in the perfect orbit to support human life—not too hot, not too cold.

  He sat back in his chair, studying it for a while and finally sat forward. His fingers hovered over the keys for a moment and then he began to type in the command. ‘Dump data.’ A question popped up on the holographic screen. ‘Are you certain you want to erase the data?’ He didn’t hesitate that time. He typed in ‘yes’ and hit enter.

  Rising, he stretched and moved toward the bed. When he’d undressed, he settled beside Emerald and drew her into his arms. She was shivering, he discovered. He tightened his hold on her and began to stroke her back slowly until she stopped shivering.

  “Don’t send me away. I’ll be good.”

  Tariq was more than half asleep when he heard the whispered plea. Wondering if he was dreaming, he squeezed her gently, nuzzling his face in her hair. “You’re my baby. I don’t think I could bear it if I sent you away.”

  * * * *

  Emerald had long since reached a state where she floated most of the time on a pleasurable, tortuous cloud where she had little awareness beyond the battle raging in her body. There were brief periods where she wasn’t at that zenith of euphoria drugged state, but even then it seemed that she was climbing toward it or drifting toward complete unawareness. There were no truly lucid moments, no time of complete awareness, and she’d begun to have difficulty sorting what was real and what wasn’t.

  Dread lingered in her mind at all times, often flickering to the forefront her mind, sometimes a distant uneasiness, but it always seemed to be there. Koryn or Tariq had only to tell her to get into the chair for it to zoom to the forefront. She would feel it building while they bound her and the chair moved, bending her knees and then spreading her legs so wide that she could feel air whisper over her sex and dry the moist inner lips until they ceased to cling and parted. It would climb higher when she felt their hands at her breasts or her sex, tweaking the flesh until blood rushed to those areas and warmth turned into fire and pleasure turned into pain from the pressure that built there because she knew that was what would happen the moment she felt their touch and she knew what would come next—that strange thing she remembered, the thing that looked exactly like a cock—except that it was bigger than any cock she’d ever seen until she’d seen Tariq’s cock and then Koryn’s.

  The dread intensified when she felt the rounded tip press against her and then felt the pressure build and build until the skin was burning from it before her flesh finally yielded to a superior force and engulfed it. She would pant from a combination of fear that it would tear her instead of entering her and distress from the burning pain and the unrelenting pressure. She lost track of the dread then, too focused on the building pressure inside of her as she felt the slow, unrelenting progress of the thing prying at her flesh all the way, forcing it to yield. It would stop when it brushed her womb and retreat and come back again and, just about the time she would begin to relax, Tariq or Koryn or both together would jolt her attention from that thing, pulling at her nipples and her clit with such vigor that the jolts of heat running through her quickly converged into a constant roll of fire through her and the thing driving into her would begin to move faster and faster until the muscles in her sex began to quake as her body reached its maximum peak and prepared to release in climax. The orgasm never reached fruition, though. She would hover at the brink, quake until she was exhausted from the tremors and dizzy from gasping for breath—endlessly waiting for the release that never came. And it would stop and that was almost worse. She could feel herself slowly cooling, could feel the promise of a climax moving further and further away until there was no hope of reaching it and yet her body continued to complain because she hadn’t reached it.

  And just about the time she almost reached that plain where it didn’t matter anymore, where she didn’t cry, or feel like crying, because she couldn’t have it, they would begin again. It was worse when it was both of them because then she would fly upward to that trembling peak at the top faster and they would make her stay longer, sobbing for relief that was always denied.

  Because she’d been bad.

  She could have hours upon hours of pleasure so intense she wanted to scream and cry because she’d been bad, but she couldn’t have the prize because she’d been bad. And ‘bad’ was anger over being denied and reluctance to feel pleasure and deprivation at the same time. ‘Bad’ was feeling that she had a choice when she didn’t and showing them that she thought she had a choice. ‘Bad’ was any time she grew angry and let them know it by a look, and if she refused to yield that was even more ‘bad’ and resulted in more ‘sessions’ of tortuous, endless pleasure—without release.

  That dread dominated her mind, but there was another dread, the threat that it could be much worse if she continued to be bad, if she couldn’t make herself ignore the dread and the anger and yield, whatever they asked, immediately, without question, without hesitation. If her world hadn’t felt turned upside down, she thought that dread would have dominated, because it was fear of death or completely losing her ‘self’, losing the ability to think at all or to make choices. One of them—or maybe both?—had told her that that was what would happen if she didn’t learn not to be bad. There had been the hint that she would be given to someone else and that someone else might do far worse when she was ‘bad’—the other things that made her dread.

  She wasn’t sure if she most feared those unnamed other things or simply being given to someone else. She knew she was terribly afraid that she would be given to someone else, but it didn’t seem that it was because of what they might do if she was bad. It seemed most of her fear was wrapped up in being afraid it wouldn’t be Tariq or Koryn and that she wouldn’t get the petting she so looked forward to when they were pleased with her, the tender touches when they held her and caressed her instead of teasing her, when they kissed her. She wouldn’t feel like any time she would be rewarded with orgasm if she could just be good long enough to deserve it.

  It relieved her a little while when she’d finally nerved herself to beg Tariq not to send her away, promised to be good if he wouldn’t, and he’d tightened his hold on her and murmured something to her in his own tongue. She hadn’t understood what he’d said, but it had felt like reassurance.

  As she lay drifting in the heated haze later, though, enduring the wracking pleasure she’d come to expect, something different pierced the fog, some sound of movement that wasn’t familiar. Lifting her heavy eyelids with an effort, she struggled to focus her vision and see what had intruded enough to pierce her awareness. She finally managed to bring the movements into focus even though there was only a tiny part within her field of vision. Koryn and Tariq were kneeling on the floor beside some sort of container, staring at whatever was inside of it. As she watched, Tariq bent down. When he straightened again, she caught a flash of long, reddish hair and then he moved completely into view as he moved away from the container carrying whatever it was. She caught a brief flash of the ‘something’ before he moved beyond her field of vision. It was a woman, naked and unconscious.

  Fear rose inside her instantly, powerful enough that it pierced the state of euphoria. Did that mean they meant to send her away after all? Or had they, as Koryn suggested, brought in another woman to appease their needs because she’d been bad so long they’d given up thinking that they could use her for that?

  The last
thought almost calmed her. The fear lingered that they would be more interested in the new woman, but it was still better than being sent to someone else. If she could’ve just convinced herself that that was all it was, she would’ve felt better. She couldn’t dismiss the fear that the other woman’s presence meant that she was going to be sent away, though, especially when she remembered bits and pieces of the conversation. Or was that the same conversation? She couldn’t be sure, but it upset her so much she began to cry. She remembered they’d been talking about her. She’d heard her name mentioned several times and they’d been angry and arguing as they so often did when they talked about her. That was what it was about, sending her away and getting another woman to take her place.

  She sobbed so hard over that that it caught their attention. Koryn’s face swam into view when she blinked the tears out of her eyes. His expression was taut with disgust.

  “How long has she been in this thing?”

  Tariq jerked an alarmed glance at the clock. Relief flooded him. “Only thirty minutes on this session. It’s her second today, though.”

  Koryn frowned. “You’re certain? She’s crying.”

  Tariq’s expression tightened. “I’m certain. She often cries, or haven’t you fucking noticed? Why do you think I got the gag? I can’t fucking stand it when she cries. It ties me in knots.”

  Emerald heard Tariq leave and cried harder. She was startled when she felt Koryn’s fingers brush lightly along her cheek. “Shhh, baby. You’re half way there. Just a little longer and I’ll let you rest.”

  She didn’t understand what he’d said, but both his touch and his tone reassured her. She calmed enough to drop once more into the grip of the euphoric haze.

  * * * *

  Tariq garnered many a second glance and far more interest than he liked as he carried the unconscious woman through the ship to the docking bay where the shuttle was waiting to carry their first batch of breeders to Niribu. It made him uneasy even though he’d taken care to cradle her face against his chest and cover the exposed profile with a lock of her hair—just in case anyone had sneaked into Koryn’s lab and gotten a good enough look at Emerald to realize the woman he was carrying wasn’t her. He thought the possibility was slim. As Koryn had pointed out, he’d hovered over her pod from the time she’d developed to a stage where he could see her maturing face, the face that had haunted his dreams until he couldn’t seem to make himself stay away. And although Koryn had refused to admit it, he’d hovered over her, as well. That hadn’t left a lot of time for anyone else to obsess over her.

  He still didn’t want to take a chance. The ship had been virtually empty the day Emerald had decided to take a stroll and he was fairly certain she couldn’t have run in to anyone at all or the alarm would’ve been sounded, but there was still a chance someone had glimpsed her and he was afraid Emerald’s face was too memorable to be easily forgotten.

  He was relieved when he finally reached the ship and strode up the gangplank. The crew was primarily androids and he didn’t see any of the other crewmembers as he made his way to the cabin he’d set aside for ‘Emerald’. He settled her on the bunk when he entered and carefully secured the safety harness for takeoff. When he straightened, he studied the woman. She was pretty enough, he decided. Her figure was actually a little more voluptuous than Emerald’s—not as appealing to his mind, but still enough to arouse a great deal of interest and competition for possession.

  Relieved to see that she was desirable enough that it seemed unlikely anyone would question that she was the woman they’d decided he was obsessed with, he turned and left. He met up with his android, Aeon, on the way out. “Aeon, Emerald is sleeping. I confess I fucked her nearly to death when I realized I was going to have to give her up. She’ll need a good deal of care if she’s to recover before you reach Niribu. The crewmembers are not to have access to her. Understood?”

  Something flickered in his eyes, but Aeon merely nodded. “Yes, Lord Tariq. I will take excellent care of her.”

  “Good. When you get to Niribu, you’re to go directly to Lord Cindar and tell him that I’ve sent along a delicate beauty who’ll require tender care and gentle training. If he’s interested, make certain he sees her before anyone else.”

  Again the Aeon nodded. “Yes, lord.”

  “I also have a special male breeder. We put Pete in the cabin next to this one. He’s recovering from an injury and needs special care, as well.” He drew a credit from his pocket and placed it in the android’s hand. “This is for you if you see to it that he’d delivered discreetly to Lady Seana as a gift from me. Tell her that we assessed him as an excellent breeder and he has a cock that should make him equally entertaining as a love slave with a little training. If you’re successful, I’ll give you another just like this when you return. It’s enough to pay for a woman’s services for at least a month—each.”

  The android curled his fingers around the credit, his face devoid of expression. “Yes, lord. I’ll see it done.”

  Tariq grinned abruptly. “Don’t bother trying to convince me that isn’t an incentive. I know you androids have needs just like us.”

  Something flickered in the android’s eyes, but he merely bowed.

  Feeling as if a great weight had dropped from his shoulders, Tariq left the shuttle and returned to his quarters to relieve Koryn. He could work from his quarters. Koryn couldn’t and he was going to have to scramble to replace the empty pod in his lab. Someone on the crew was in Mylor’s pocket. He was certain of it.

  Chapter Twelve

  Neither Tariq nor Koryn could decide whether to be unnerved or gratified by Emerald’s progress. Granted, Tariq had hoped that the intense disciplinary sessions he’d decided on would finally have the desired effect, but he realized he hadn’t really expected that it would and yet, after only three days Emerald seemed completely docile.

  He was deeply suspicious at first when he realized that Emerald hadn’t hesitated to do whatever he or Koryn demanded the moment they demanded it. Even exhausted and weak, she struggled to comply instantly.

  He pointed it out to Koryn over breakfast on the fourth day, when he finally noticed, wondering if Koryn had. “When is the last time that you noticed that Emerald resisted an order?” he asked curiously.

  Koryn’s brows rose and then he frowned thoughtfully. “Not yesterday,” he said finally. “It seems to me that I recall some resistance the day before, but I’m convinced there was nothing yesterday.”

  “I was thinking the same thing, but of course, I didn’t know if you’d encountered anything during your sessions. I begin to think this might actually work.”

  Koryn grimaced. “And we only needed to bring in the fucking robot to accomplish it,” he said ruefully.

  Irritation flickered through Tariq. “It doesn’t get tired or too horny to think straight,” he said tightly. “It’s the same principle, regardless, and I doubt she can tell that much difference. It’s cybernetic after all, real flesh and muscle.”

  “Except that it’s a hell of a lot bigger than our fingers even when we did four at the time and we couldn’t come close to matching it in stamina—not at that speed, or depth of penetration with our fingers for that matter.”

  “That might explain it. It keeps her at fever pitch longer, which is bound to be more effective in wearing her down.”

  “Maybe it’s time to test it? Put her through her paces and see how she does?” Koryn said thoughtfully. “I can spare the time from the lab. I’ll have to be in and out, checking up on the progress of the new seedlings, but that still leaves me plenty of time today.”

  Tariq considered his own situation. “I’ve made it clear I’m working from my quarters. Of course, they were convinced, the bastards, that it was a determination to stay with Emerald, but it might not be a bad idea to continue that pattern. It might help to convince them that they were mistaken.”

  “It might also make them suspicious she’s still here. We can’t openly order enough food
for three anymore.”

  “She doesn’t eat much. It isn’t going to be a hardship,” Tariq responded. “I think I can safely dedicate today to the project either way. Maybe I’ll break pattern and spend most of the day at the dig site tomorrow.”

  “I won’t be able to spend all day here attending her sessions if you do. That’ll look equally suspicious—besides I have the lab work.”

  “If she does well enough today when we take her through her paces, I think we could safely reduce the number of sessions.”

  “You don’t intend to simply stop when you think she’s ready?” Koryn asked in surprise.

  “You do recall what happened the last time I was soft enough to do that, right? She was worse after a few days than she had been before.”

  “Good point. She might reach a point where it isn’t necessary at all or very often, but it would be safer not to try that for a while in case she begins slipping. I don’t think I could handle having to start over from scratch.”

  “You’ll have to if we have to—but I’d rather not chance it myself. That’s why I said if she does well, I think it would be alright to reduce her sessions, maybe even drastically, but I don’t think it would be a good idea to stop altogether—not anytime soon, anyway.”

  Koryn pushed his plate away and settled back in his chair. “So, what’s the game plan for the day?”

  “I’ve been giving that some thought. I think it’s possible you’re right about the robotic fucker … at least in a sense. It maintains that critical high, but it’s also drugging. You can see she dreads it and at the same time craves it. I think the ups and downs of handling it ourselves, or mostly ourselves, would put just the strain on her that we need to test her. She’ll be more alert and able to anticipate what’s about to happen, which I think is the trigger for her resistance.”

  “Will we rotate? Or go together?”

  “Rotation will give us both more recovery time, and I need it whether you do or not,” Tariq said dryly.