Master of Her World

by Lily Harlem

  Once the eating room was sparkling and her fingers were wrinkled from holding the hot wiping cloth, Briella headed into the seating area. From here she could see Gast hard at work in his open-air workshop. The scenery behind him was dramatic. A vast orange plain lined with mountains that smoked and a deep black crevice shaped like a lightning bolt. Above him the three suns, two small and one large, glowed in various shades of red. A wispy lilac cloud had sloped across the full moon near the horizon.

  But if the scenery was breathtaking, Gast was more so. As he worked his muscles bunched and flexed beneath his golden skin. He was hot, the strands of his hair damp against his neck and shoulders. And his leather pants, the way they strained over his ass as he bent forward, it was enough to give Briella that delightful tingling feeling again.

  She’d never expected this. Had presumed that she’d have an old, ugly master at whose hands she would suffer in order to breathe. But Gast… there was something about him. He was larger than life, seemed to have extra high levels of testosterone in his alien blood, and damn, she was sure he’d be good in a crisis. Certainly someone to have on her side.

  She clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth and turned away. Why on earth was she having such fanciful thoughts about her master? It was not her place to do so. He was her ruler. In his home, she was his possession. There was no place for admiration, for attraction, for thinking that she might ever mean more to him than the duty of his species to hers.

  He paused and stretched out his back, the gutter of his spine elongating as he extended his arms over his head as though they were stiff. He drew the back of his hand over his damp brow, eyes closed, and blew out a breath.

  Quickly, before he caught her staring, Briella began brushing grimy orange dust motes from the corners of the window. She put on an expression of extreme concentration should he look and assess her seriousness about her task.

  For a moment he was quiet and she wondered if he was observing her through the glass. Then his repetitive clunk, clunk started up again. She speculated about what he was making; if it was something for the dome or something to sell.

  As she scooped up the ash from the fire pit, she heard an extra loud thwack and then a yelp.

  She straightened and turned to the window

  “Ah, mother of three suns,” Gast shouted. He threw down his hammer and clutched his left hand.

  “Oh, no.” Briella dropped the dustpan and brush and rushed from the seating area. She sped out into the heat of the day and into the workshop. Rushing past an assortment of rocks and wood and a pile of shavings, she reached Gast. “What have you done?”

  “My blasted hand,” he said, holding up his right hand. “Got it with the hammer.”

  “Oh, no, let me look. Sir.”

  He winced as he released it.

  “That’s it.” She carefully took his forearm in her palm and urged his hand lower so it was level with her face.

  His knuckles were swelling already, and a dark purple bruise was spreading over the back of his hand.

  “Can you move your fingers?” she asked.

  He sucked in a breath and frowned. His fingers moved a fraction.

  “I think, if you permit me to say so, that you should put ice on this injury.”

  “And you know this how?”

  “It’s something they teach us, at training camp. Basic emergency medical know-how.”

  “There are ice packs in the refrigerator.”

  “I’ll go and get one.” At a swift pace, Briella headed into the eating room. She quickly found what she was looking for and was soon back at her master’s side.

  The ice pack was in a soft white bag, and as she carefully rested it over Gast’s knuckles, she shaped it to the contours of his bones.

  “How’s that, Sir,” she asked, her breaths coming fast out of both worry and moving quickly.

  “Much better,” he said quietly.

  She looked up at him.

  “Thank you, slave.”

  Chapter Five

  A pleasant sensation went through Briella. She’d pleased her master, so much so that he’d thanked her. It was so much more than she’d ever hoped and she was still on her first full day with him.

  But oh, his hand looked so sore. She worried if he’d ever be able to work again. Then what would they do?

  As she held the cool pack in place, the suns beat down on her shoulders. The scents of the extraterrestrial landscape filtered into her nose as did the smell of fresh sweat from her master’s body.

  His nipples, level with her line of sight, were small dark disks, between them a scrawl of black chest hair. She dared to look lower, admiring the way the muscles in his belly were stacked and how his skin glowed like the finest bronze statues in Zoid museums.

  Was Nhah admiring her master, too? Had her best friend found a man who was pleasing on the eye to her, or would she have to take her medication from someone she found repulsive?

  A wave of gratitude went through Briella that Gast was such a fine specimen of his species and along with that also seemed, so far, to be fair.

  She let out a sigh.

  “We should go indoors, slave. Your body has not yet accustomed to outdoor air.”

  “I like it, Sir, the outdoors,” she said. “To be able to see into the distance is a treat. For so long I’ve been barely able to see ten feet ahead of myself, because of the smog. Whereas this,” she gestured at the horizon, “is beyond beautiful, even if it isn’t my home.”

  “It’s your home now.”

  “Yes.” She nodded. “Thanks to your kindness.”

  “Kindness has nothing to do with it. It’s my duty to the galaxy.” He glanced up at the suns. “And soon it will be time for your next medication. Have you finished your duties?”

  “Almost, Sir. I was nearly finished when…” She nodded at his hand.

  “Yes, of course.” He lifted his painful hand and held the cold pack in place himself. “Get me a drink, please.”

  “Yes, of course, Sir. Where would you like it?”

  “In the seating area if that’s clean now.”

  “Yes, it is. I’ll get it straight away. The drink, that is, Sir.”

  Again she rushed to the eating room, glad once more that she was barefoot, which meant she could do her master’s bidding quicker. As she moved, her breasts jiggled and the short stiff skirt abraded her ass cheeks.

  After filling a glass with water, clean and clear and straight from the tap in the refrigerator, Briella went back into the seating area. She walked very carefully, being careful not to spill a drop of the potable liquid.

  “Here you are, Sir. Is there anything else?”

  He was sat on the sofa, staring out at his workshop. “No, that’s it.” He took the drink and sipped, holding his painful hand aloft.

  “I will continue my tasks, Sir, if you have no more need of me.”

  “But you have need of me.” He tipped his head and studied her. “I can see that you’re a little out of breath. It’s time for your medication.”

  “Yes, Sir. If that is your wish, Sir.”

  “It is, though…” He handed her the glass and pressed the cold pack over his injured hand. “I’m rather indisposed.” He shook his head and frowned.

  “What can I do to help?”

  “You may have to help yourself.” He glanced at his groin.

  “Yes, Sir. Just tell me how.”

  He muttered and shifted on the seat, his big body making the frame creak.

  “I’m so sorry, Sir.”

  “It isn’t your fault, it’s mine. I was rushing to finish something and now I have inconvenienced us both.”

  “I’m here to do your bidding. Please tell me what I can do to assist.”

  He adjusted the cold pack, wincing as he did so.

  She hated to see him in pain. It almost hurt her.

  “Undo my trousers and release my cock,” he said.

  “Yes, Sir.” Briella sat between her master’s
spread legs, her knees bent beneath her. She fumbled for a moment with his hefty belt buckle, then released the opening of his pants.

  He hoisted his hips into the air. Tried to shove at his trousers but twisted his hand and hissed out a breath that held a curse.

  “I can do it,” she said. “Let me, please, Sir. Don’t hurt yourself further.”

  “Yes, you’ll have to.” He shook his head and grimaced. Being incapacitated clearly didn’t sit well with him.

  Briella pulled down his pants and undergarments. His cock sprang forward as though eager to see her.

  “Sir?” She looked up at him, wondering what she should do. She needed instruction.

  “Take it,” he said. “Hold it, tight but not too tight.”

  She did as he’d told her, grasping the hot, hard shaft in both of her hands. It was like velvet over steel, heat burned from him, the skin was so smooth on her palms.

  “Now rub,” he said, “from the base to the tip, twist slightly when you get to the tip.”

  “Yes, Sir.” She pulled her hands upward. As she did so, the girth seemed to swell farther and the flesh hardened.

  He gritted his teeth.

  “Have I hurt you, Sir?”

  “No, that’s it. That’s how it should feel.” He nodded and his nostrils flared. “Do it faster, slave.”

  “Yes, Sir. Please instruct me.”

  “They didn’t teach you at the training camp?”

  “No, Sir. I guess it was presumed masters would release their own semen.”

  He kind of huffed. She didn’t know why.

  Briella slid her hand root to tip again, twisting just before she hit the flared head.

  Gast dropped his head back on the sofa, his injured hand clasped at his chest. “Ah… slave…”

  “That is right?”

  “Yes, like that… more… don’t stop.”

  Encouraged, Briella continued to work her master’s big cock. The way it felt in her hand, sturdy, powerful, the giver of breath, had her captivated. She sped up, enjoying the gurgling groan that vibrated in his chest.

  She figured it felt good, otherwise he would have reprimanded her.

  “Catch it, soon. In your mouth,” he said breathlessly. “Hurry.”

  “Yes, Sir.” She went up onto her knees, not pausing in her rhythm.

  “The semen is coming.” His penis was harder still, his belly tense and his chest rising and falling rapidly. A pearly drip of fluid sat in the slit.

  “Oh, sons of the stars, yes…” He bucked his hips. “Keep going, slave.”

  Faster and faster she went, tipping her head over the end of his cock so she could sup the life-giving fluid when it arrived.

  Her arms and hands ached.

  He was gasping.

  Her heart was racing.

  His cock was rock hard.

  She didn’t know why she did it, but Briella tipped forward, opened her mouth, and sank onto his length. She wrapped her lips around his penis and hugged his shaft with her tongue. Still working the base of his erection she sucked and stroked, took in the first salty drip of his essence.

  “Holy stars above,” he gasped. “What…?”

  Was she in trouble? Maybe she’d broken an unmentioned rule. She didn’t care. It was so good to have the head of his cock tickle the base of her throat, and now… now thick fluid was rushing into her.

  She swallowed greedily, running her hands up and down the very base of his thick shaft. He was pulsing in her mouth and bucking his hips.

  On and on the copious fluid filled her throat. She drank it all and as she did so, despite being out of breath, excited, aroused, she was aware of her breaths traveling deeper into her lungs.

  “Oh, slave, oh, seven stars and moons,” Gast said on a panting breath. “Yes, that’s it.”

  He shifted.

  She lifted up, catching his erection in her palm. “Sir?”

  “Where the…? How…?”

  “I’m sorry, Sir.” Panic flooded her. Had she done a terrible thing? Had she gone way beyond what a slave was allowed to do? Perhaps this would be the end for her here on Roun, banishment her next port of call.

  But damn, it had felt good to take his cock like that.

  She cast her eyes downward and quickly assisted in tucking his penis away. Swallowing the last of his semen, she sat back on her heels, hands clasped in her lap.

  “Slave,” he whispered, leaning forward. “Do you have a name?”

  “Briella of the Eastern Valley.”

  “Well, Briella of the Eastern Valley…”

  She was aware of him leaning forward, coming closer to her.

  “Who in all of the galaxies told you to do that?”

  “What, Sir?” She knew what, but asked the question anyway, stalling for thinking time.

  “Who told you to do that?” he repeated incredulously.

  Blast it. He was going to cane her now, she was sure of it. Over her sore ass…

  “Who told you to take a penis into your mouth and drink like that?”

  “No one told me, Sir.”

  “They must have.”

  “No.” She shook her head. “They didn’t, that’s the honest truth.”

  “So why did you do it?”

  “It just felt right.” She risked a glance up at him.

  His features were soft, as if he was curious more than furious.

  “It felt right?” he asked.

  She nodded and looked at her lap again. “Yes, Sir. I’m so sorry, Sir. If I’ve offended you. If I hurt you.”

  “No, you didn’t hurt me.”

  “Offend you?”

  “No.” He paused. “Look at me.”

  She raised her head. Let her gaze connect with his.

  “Come closer,” he said, his voice quiet but a flash searing over his irises.

  She went up onto her knees.

  “More.”

  She moved until her face was level with his. So their noses almost touched.

  “Put your mouth on mine,” he said.

  “Yes, Sir.” She remained still, as if frozen to the spot.

  “Do it. Now. “

  She did as her master had told her, pressing her lips over his, slanting slightly so they didn’t bump noses.

  He parted his lips a little, touched his tongue to hers. She held in a gasp of surprise. He moved closer, his tongue sweeping into her mouth, as though tasting her now.

  She overbalanced, catching his wide thighs for support. He didn’t object so she stayed still as he continued to explore her mouth with his tongue.

  The sensation wasn’t unpleasant. In fact she liked it. Her master tasted delicious—man and heat and an earthy flavor that was nurturing and clean. On and on he swept over her tongue, moved his lips against hers.

  Soon they were doing a dance with their mouths. Her breaths were clean and clear. He was feeding her with something that was making her soul feel good, as though setting it alight with a spark she couldn’t identify, couldn’t put a name to.

  Eventually he pulled back.

  His lips were shiny, his eyebrows pulled low. “Do you know what that’s called?”

  “No, Sir.”

  “That’s a kiss.”

  “A kiss?”

  “Yes, I just kissed you. Did you like it?”

  “Yes, Sir. Very much.” She paused. “If it pleases you that I like it.”

  The right side of his mouth twitched, almost as if he were about to smile. “Yes, I want you to like it if I decide to kiss you.”

  Her head was spinning. So he wasn’t angry that she’d sucked his cock? He’d enjoyed pressing his mouth to hers? “I do like it.”

  “Good, because I might do it again, slave.”

  She glanced away.

  “You have a question?”

  “Yes.” Oh, but she shouldn’t have. She knew that. It wasn’t her place to question.

  “So ask me.” He sat back and held his painful hand close to his chest, repositioning the
cold pack. “What’s in your head that you don’t understand?”

  There was so much. Where to start? She opted for the most pressing matter. “Do you like kissing me, Sir?”

  “Yes.” He tipped his head and studied her. “You’re pretty and sweet and you taste better than any of the food the government sends.”

  “I do?”

  “Yes.”

  “Oh.”

  He stood suddenly. “It’s time to continue with our work.”

  She shifted out of his way. “But your hand?”

  “I’ll apply Galico Moon’s poppy salve. Within a few hours I will be healed.”

  “Yes. Of course.” She’d heard of Galico poppy salve and its almost magical properties. Not that they had any on Zoid.

  “And while I heal, you can sweep the roof.”

  “The roof?”

  “Yes.” He frowned. “It’s not a hard task now that you’ve been medicated.”

  “No, I mean, yes, of course, Sir.”

  “There’s a broom by my workbench. Be sure to get the grass weeds out from between the tiles. The roots are a menace.”

  “I will, Sir. Straight away.”

  “And for goodness’ sake, don’t fall off.”

  “I’ll try not to, Sir.”

  Chapter Six

  Briella found the broom, which had stiff witchy bristles, and headed around the left side of the dome. She faced a steep set of stairs carved out of the side of the mountain with a makeshift rope handrail.

  But she wasn’t fazed. She was full of energy, her body for once feeling like she could accomplish anything. She was alive, her breaths free and easy and her thoughts straight. Gone were the sluggish, listless mannerisms of old. No longer a weak and fragile person, she was prepared for the challenge.

  She stomped up the steps, the heat of the three suns warm on her shoulders and breasts, and the muscles in her thighs working the way they should. She smiled, a real smile that balled her cheeks and crunched up the corners of her eyes.

  For so long she’d worried about coming to Roun, but within a short space of time she felt at ease. It was the physical wellness, she was sure. Gast’s healing semen that afforded her breath was a tonic to her mind as well as her body.