They were serious. They would let the Nobek spank her like a naughty child until they got what they wanted. It humiliated her to be treated so ... and it hurt like hell.
Yet the discomfort was not what brought tears pouring from her eyes or sobs bursting from her throat. Michaela had wanted the three men to prove they didn’t think she was a freak. Raxstad’s spanking with his clanmates’ approval made that point loud and clear.
They didn’t think she was a monster and refused to let her think so either.
“I’m sorry. Please stop. I’m sorry.” The words she spoke were hard to understand even to her own ears, as tangled with sobs as they were.
Yet somehow Raxstad deciphered the speech from the bawling. He immediately ceased punishment. She lay across his granite thighs, crying hard and unable to move.
They liked her. They couldn’t stand to hear her tear herself down, so they must like her. Michaela thought that perhaps they didn’t view her as a horrid mistake.
Govi whispered, “All right now, little one. It’s all right now.”
The three men petted her, making soothing sounds as they did so. Their hands moved all over except on her pulsing, raw ass. Michaela’s breasts hung down between Raxstad’s parted thighs, and fingers gently plucked her nipples. The Nobek widened his legs so that her groin was made available to a hand which wrapped around her cock. It moved up and down, sending delicious trickles of molten warmth into the member.
As Michaela’s prick hardened, thick fingers – Raxstad’s, she thought – stroked her pussy. The Nobek continued to hold her down between the shoulders with his other hand, keeping her pinned as the men made her hard and wet. She clutched the leg beneath her, panting as the Kalquorians played. Her tears dried up as pleasure surged. In the aftermath of punishment, what they did felt astounding in comparison.
The hands on her breasts massaged the mounds. They delivered an occasional pinch on the livid tips, sending splinters of excitement straight to her clit. The hands were powerful and strong with hard callouses on the fingertips, and yet managed to be gentle.
The hand working her cock was every bit as incredible. It pumped up and down, from base to the flared head, gripping her in a hold that was deliciously tight without being hurtful. Michaela gasped with each knowing stroke, feeling her balls draw up tighter to her body. Wonderful pressure built in them, growing with every second.
Fingers trace the petals of her womanhood and drew teasing wet circles around her clit. Ticklish delight sprang from those delicate touches, feeding the growing tension in Michaela’s male parts. Even the aching burn of her spanked ass fed the internal fire now.
Her panting gave way to whimpers, and then strengthened into moans. Korkla’s clan touched her even though they should not wish to. They were going to make her come, both as a man and a woman. Their whispers encouraged her release, calling her beautiful, calling her perfect, calling her theirs.
“That’s it, my pretty little girl. Let yourself go.”
“Lovely, lovely Michaela. Come for us, my beauty.”
“Go ahead, my poor, wonderful love. Let it happen. Surrender yourself.”
The sweetness of climax began, unfurling in a hot ribbon of ecstasy that traveled the length of Michaela’s cock. Her clit suffused with brightness. Her entire body stiffened with the oncoming orgasm.
“Here it comes. That’s our girl. Yes, Michaela.”
The fingers stroking her pussy closed around her clit. They pinched and tugged and ravening fire billowed through her belly. Michaela detonated. Her pussy seized in a series of spasms, each convulsion sweeter than the last. Her cock jerked in the grip of the man who stroked it. The liquid fire burst free, showering the floor with elation. Michaela writhed on Raxstad’s lap, her cries ringing as she came.
Moments after her cock emptied, the hand on it let go. The fingers playing with her pussy disappeared, and Michaela lay quiet but for the soft sighs that broke free every few moments. She basked in the afterglow, her body sated. Or so she thought.
Hands pressed against her inner thighs, opening her legs. Still fog-brained from orgasm, Michaela didn’t understand what was happening until a wet, warm mouth kissed her pussy. Then a rough, scratchy tongue licked her slit, gathering and devouring her juices.
Fresh excitement speared her crotch. Surprised by the jolt of desire, Michaela started to lift up only to discover Raxstad continued to pin her down.
“Stay there,” his gruff voice ordered. “You’re not done yet.”
Indeed she was not. The mouth on her sucked her clit deep into its environs, and a tongue whipped over it. Exaltation poured into the tiny nub, swelling it until Michaela felt nothing else of her body. All her being concentrated on that sweet point of ecstasy, growing more and more blindingly bright with every suckle, every lash of the tongue against it. Flashes of light bloomed before her eyes, and she was falling, falling, her body jerking as awesome pleasure pounded from within.
There were a few scant moments during which Michaela thought the surges of bliss were at last receding, but the mouth on her became more voracious with her quieting cries. Once again, ferocious delight crashed through her. Then again. And again.
At last Michaela could climax no more. She lay as limp as a wet dishrag across Raxstad’s thighs, groaning in exhausted satisfaction. She was dead weight when the men turned her over so that Raxstad could hold her against his chest. Govi and Korkla stroked her body with pleased smiles.
The Dramok kissed her lips with a feathery pressure. “There now. All better?”
Somehow, she remembered how to talk. “Yes. All better,” Michaela sighed.
For the moment anyway. When doubt returned, as she was sure it would, there was the chance she’d slip up and say the word they despised. She’d been calling herself a freak for as long as she could remember. Surely if Clan Korkla stuck around, it would leave her lips once more. Would Raxstad spank her again?
Michaela felt a strange excitement at the thought. The heat of her ass reminded her of how deliciously vulnerable she’d been to them, a thought that secretly delighted her. And what had come after ... well, that was worth getting her ass worn out for, wasn’t it? Especially since they seemed determined to prove she was not a freak.
Michaela thought perhaps the three men actually cared about her.
Chapter 8
For the first time in her life, Michaela did not want to dance. She dragged herself into her studio early in the morning, but her mind was elsewhere. All she could think about was Clan Korkla.
Were they awake yet? Were they having breakfast? Thinking about her? Talking about her?
Michaela wanted nothing more to go to their quarters rather than the studio. Yesterday afternoon had been lovely following the spanking and naughty play. The men and she had talked for hours on end, learning more about each other. They’d had dinner delivered to the room and kept talking. Then they talked some more until Michaela had started yawning. She’d not wanted the Kalquorians to leave. She’d damned near begged them not to go, but they had excused themselves for the night, wishing her pleasant dreams.
Even with today being the final rehearsal and setting up the stage for the Coming of Age Festival, Michaela had the worst time making herself do what was needed. She wanted to be with the clan. Moreover, she wanted them to realize she was ready to give herself to them, and not just sexually. Michaela wanted Korkla to clan her. She wanted to belong to him, Govi, and Raxstad forever. But how could she make that happen? Govi in particular was determined to treat her carefully. He seemed convinced she was one fuck away from a nervous breakdown.
Michaela dragged herself into the dance studio and started stretching exercises. Her brain kept circling around the issue of getting the clan to move on from heavy petting to actual intercourse. Not that she could imagine sex feeling any better than what they’d done to her after Raxstad wore her ass out. No, the climaxes they’d given her could not possibly be improved upon.
Michaela wanted
to know she belonged. She needed proof now that the three men accepted her, that they wanted her forever. She needed to feel like they could someday love her.
Jessica walked in, moving stiffly in her leotard as she mumbled, “Good morning.”
She began to stretch, wincing the whole time. Michaela looked at her questioningly.
“Damned Kalquorians,” the brunette muttered. Jessica’s eyes sparked with temper. “My ass may never recover.”
Happy to be distracted from her own problems, Michaela arched an eyebrow at her friend. “Do I want to know?”
Jessica scowled at the toe she reached for. “Do you remember that Kalquorian curse word I called Prince Egilka? When I walked out on chaperoning your date?”
Michaela snickered. “Yeah. I was warned I didn’t want to repeat it.”
“Well, no one warned me, and I made the mistake of calling Prince Clajak that very same word. The son of a bitch wore me out like a child.”
Michaela’s jaw dropped and she stared. “You mean a spanking? You too?”
Jessica looked at her with equal surprise before a slow, knowing grin crept over her lips. “So,” she drawled silkily. “Things are heating up with Clan Korkla, I take it.”
“Now why would you get that impression from being spanked? Unless—” Michaela’s mouth fell wide open again. She stared at Jessica in shock. Had being spanked by Prince Clajak led to Jessica having sex with him again? From the pink staining the other woman’s cheeks, Michaela was sure that was exactly what had happened.
She yelled, “You said you couldn’t stand him!”
Jessica snorted. “I can’t. And I refuse to go to Kalquor after dealing with that creep. I don’t care how good the sex is.” She grabbed her toes and muttered to her knees, “The trick is not making Clajak mad over it, or I’ll end up with my toes in the air again. Stupid sexy jerk.”
Michaela cocked her head to one side as she regarded her friend. “You’re losing me. What does getting Prince Clajak angry have to do with sex?”
Jessica sighed. “Everything, apparently. It turns out that if you piss off a Kalquorian and then get him sexually excited, he loses control. He gets hell-bent on unloading his frustrations, if you get my meaning.” She adjusted her position and winced. “I just wish they weren’t so damned attractive. It seems like I have as little self-possession as they do.”
“Those aliens are too much to resist, aren’t they?” Reminded of her own issues with sexy Kalquorians, Michaela sighed.
Jessica’s gaze on her was sharp. “Tell me.”
Grateful she could trust everything with her friend, Michaela admitted, “I’m in love. I want to be with Korkla’s clan more than I can express. I want to spend my life with them.”
“But?” Jessica prodded. She stopped stretching to give Michaela her full attention.
Michaela threw her hands up in frustration. “They insist on being so damned cautious. I know they do it because they care.”
“Then you should be out of your mind with joy right now! Or are you not sure about them?”
Michaela shook her head. “Jessica, they don’t mind that I’m intersex. In fact, it seems to make me more attractive to them. I don’t understand it, but that’s the way it is.”
Jessica squealed and clapped her hands with glee. “I’m so happy for you!”
“I don’t want to wait another second to have sex with them. It’s going to happen anyway, so they might as well do me and get it over with.”
Her friend laughed. “You don’t want romance? No sonnets and love songs and chaperoned dates? More of those damned bouquets of flowers?”
Michaela snorted. “Fuck that. I want to get laid and clanned. We can skip all the damsel-in-distress bullshit and go straight to the happy ending.”
“In a manner of speaking.”
They laughed over Michaela’s unintended pun. The moment of lightheartedness seemed to get them both out of their funks. Jessica even started her usual round of protestations when Michaela decided it was time to rehearse.
“Come on, Michaela. I’m in pain today. Don’t be a hardass for this rehearsal, okay?”
The younger woman glared. “The performance is tomorrow. We have to be perfect.”
Jessica groaned and muttered a few complaints, but Michaela barely heard her. Something her friend had said earlier had given her an idea. If Jessica was right, Michaela thought she might just have the perfect opportunity to get Korkla’s clan and herself past the issues keeping them from having sex. The only question was if she was bold enough ... desperate enough ... to carry it out.
* * * *
Before first light on the morning of the Coming of Age Festival, Michaela rose. She’d barely slept all night, yet she was wide awake. Awake and overly aware with hope and nervousness.
The young woman wasted no time in getting dressed in her slave girl dancing costume. With practiced ease, she got into makeup and styled her wig. Once she had the fake mane of curls arranged and clipped into place, she hurried out of her quarters, holding a small sack that contained props and cosmetics for touching up.
She slipped into Israla’s unlocked office just as the first sun peeked over the horizon. At this early hour, the immense house seemed deserted. It was no surprise that no one was in Israla’s official chambers. The festival was set to commence at this very moment, and no doubt Israla and her aide Shisa were already on hand to make sure it started on time. Michaela herself was about to leave the house, but first she had a message to record and send to Clan Korkla.
Michaela looked around and shivered. Her silvery-gray costume consisted of a small bra and an artfully ripped skirt that gave tantalizing glimpses of her lithe legs. The outfit was little defense against the slight chill of an early spring morning. Nevertheless, Michaela’s hands were sweating. What she was about to do could backfire badly.
With the morning rays lighting the quiet room brighter by the second, its details began to assert themselves. Smell was still Michaela’s strongest sense in the dim environs, and there were layers upon layers of exciting aromas. They were secretive smells, musky and sharp. Michaela thought it must be the scents of sex, perhaps years and years worth. The Plasians were amorous to the hilt, and she could well imagine how Israla conducted negotiations with other worlds and territorial leaders. Michaela’s cock twitched at the idea.
Padded benches lined the walls, and the young intersex visualized dozens of bodies twined in every possible posture all along the velvety cushions. Behind Israla’s large desk were floor-to-ceiling windows. Michaela knew the Plasian leader loved to watch her Earther soldier sex toys play football on the trimmed bluish-green lawn, working their young bodies to sweaty glory.
Damn, all I can think about is naked bodies and sex. Korkla, you and the other two better come through for me, Michaela thought. I want your clan and I can’t wait another second for you to claim me if you’re going to.
Still at just half-mast, her cock strained the fabric of Michaela’s underclothes. Adjusting her panties through her skirt, she hurried across the floor, her gaze going to the com on Israla’s desk. Before she could think twice, she clicked the device on.
“Record and send message,” she ordered in halting Plasian.
Fortunately, the coms had always been able to interpret Michaela’s tenuous grasp on the planet’s language. “Where is the message to be sent?” a cool electronic voice answered.
“Clan Korkla’s guest quarters in this house.”
There was a moment’s silence before the computerized voice responded. “Sensors indicate presence of three individuals in Clan Korkla’s guest quarters. Would you prefer to converse?”
“No, damn it. Record a message.”
The com took no offense to Michaela’s temper. “Begin recording,” it invited.
Michaela took a deep breath before speaking in her breeziest tone. “Good morning, gentlemen. Happy Coming of Age Festival Day. Listen, I don’t want you three to miss out on any of the fun, so I t
hought I’d let you know you’re free to indulge yourselves with our lovely Plasian hosts. I’ll be busy with my dance this afternoon, of course. Once that’s out of the way, I plan to interview the two clans that came with you and the Crown Prince Clan. Since you’ve convinced me that Kalquorians don’t find an intersex as offensive as I feared, I’ve decided to check into all my options. So enjoy yourselves, okay? I know I will. Goodbye and thanks for everything. End message.”
The computer made a buzzing sound before stating, “Message ended. Re-record or send?”
Her heart pounding wildly, Michaela said, “Send.”
“Message sent.”
Michaela wiped her sweating hands on her skirt. There was no taking back anything now. Her course was set.
“And I’m getting the fuck out of Dodge,” she muttered.
The com responded, “I’m sorry. Would you repeat the last command?”
“Nope.” Michaela turned and rushed out of the room.
By the time she got to the front doors of Israla’s still-quiet home, she was running. She kept right on sprinting across the manicured lawn towards the front gate of the property, ignoring the few Plasians who were meandering late to the center of the capital where the festivities were being held.
Right now, Michaela’s one aim was to get away before Clan Korkla got it in their heads to hunt for her. She wasn’t sure what they would do once they caught up to her. She wanted to at least get her big dance out of the way before they did. Perhaps the longer it took them to find her, the more they would want her. Or maybe they would be disgusted with her little game and give up. She had no idea how Kalquorian men’s minds worked.
Either way, Michaela needed to stay hidden until her dance. She slowed down in her flight to the city’s center, moving at a jog. Her slippers made light slapping sounds on the springy walking trail that led deeper into the capital. She didn’t want to wear herself out before the big presentation, but Michaela was still eager to lose herself in the swelling crowds at the festival.
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