Shalia's Diary #7

by Tracy St. John

  Betra’s eyes narrowed. The threat in his tone could not be mistaken. “Lie still and don’t say another word. You are healthy enough that I can stop this and spank your ass red and leave you wanting. Good girls get to come. Naughty girls don’t.”

  I subsided, shuddering with desperation. I didn’t want to be denied climax. I ached too much for that to happen. I needed Betra to make me come.

  So I lay there beneath him while he took his time, fucking me into insanity. Waves of intense desire pulsed through me, slow but steady throbs that teased the nearness of exaltation.

  Betra released my wrists. “Play with your nipples and clit, but don’t come,” he said.

  “Don’t come? Are you kidding me?” I squalled. “The second I touch myself, I’ll lose it!”

  He rolled us slightly to one side, just enough to bare one of my ass cheeks. His palm cracked against the flesh twice, lighting sparks that were more pleasure than pain in my state.

  “I said, no talking. Do I stop fucking you? Do I leave you like this?” Betra’s voice was cold with command.

  “No,” I whimpered. Trying to placate him, I added, “No, Master. Please. I just need to come so badly and if I touch myself the way you want, I won’t be able to stop myself.”

  “You will not come until I give permission,” Betra said, not giving an inch to mercy. “Now touch yourself as I told you to.”

  I groaned, knowing there was no choice but to obey. I slid one hand over a breast. The other crept towards my pussy as Betra rose up to give me room to work.

  “You know what excites you most,” he said. “Touch yourself as I would. Do it.”

  I gazed at him with beseeching eyes, but he wasn’t giving any slack. I tugged at one nipple with his eyes on me, watching me squeeze just shy of pain. Prophets, it felt good, especially with him seeing everything I did to myself. He knelt between my splayed legs, still deliberately fucking me.

  My other hand found my clit. I slid two fingers on either side of the swollen nub, feeling the electric delight of my own touch. My breath caught.

  “You’re clenching down on my cocks,” Betra said. “Do not come or you will be punished.”

  I bit my lips together. I wanted to come. Need rode me like a devouring hunger, demanding release. Yet a large part of me wanted Betra’s permission first. I wanted to please him, to show him that I deserved the privilege of belonging to him there and then.

  “Show me what gives you the greatest pleasure,” he panted. He was starting to move faster within me, his cocks rubbing glorious friction within my avid core. “Play with that clit. Make it feel good.”

  My finger slid over the erect unhooded flesh, matching Betra’s quickening rhythm. A cry spilled from my lips as my entire abdomen spasmed. A monstrous swell rolled through me. I clenched my teeth, fighting back the orgasm.

  “Oh yeah,” Betra groaned. “I feel you grabbing hold, massaging my cocks with your sweet ass and pussy. Keep playing with yourself. Keep going.”

  My moans were continuous as I ground my teeth together and stroked my clit. Climax was right there, grasping at me, impatient to be realized. I held on by sheer will, needing Betra’s permission before I could bow to the quaking in my guts. I gushed wetness all around him as he drove faster and harder, his gasps growing louder with every passing second.

  “Shalia ... so beautiful ... so good ... fuck ... fuck ... fucking come! Come now!”

  With his shout, the tightly coiled want unfurled in my belly, streaming throughout my body. My clenched jaw sprang open, unleashing the scream that had welled up in my throat. My whole being heaved, hurling itself into glorious expansion. I heard Betra’s animal roar in the distance and was aware of heat flowing from him into me.

  He fell over me again. We rutted like beasts, me clawing his shoulders as he pounded deep within me. All was force and effort and sweat as we rode our passion into mad oblivion. I came a second and then a third time before we wilted like storm-whipped flowers.

  I lay there, weary and fulfilled, feeling the last pulses of Betra’s cocks. We didn’t speak. Sometimes there’s no need to. Sometimes talk only ruins the perfection of a union. We simply stayed in each other’s arms, sometimes caressing, sometimes kissing, and sometimes dozing for the next hour. For that time I soaked in the happiness, keeping all worries at bay.

  August 2

  Today had some incredible highs. It had lows to match.

  First the good stuff, mostly because I need to distract myself from the bad. Anrel, my love, my angel, my beautiful little girl! She is really coming along. With her continuing to thrive and all tests showing she’s in terrific health, Tep has taken the monitoring vest off her. Her incubator can monitor her vitals when she’s sleeping in it.

  When I went to her this morning, I called in a soft voice, “Is my little girl awake?” I could see she was. My heart damned near burst through my chest when she turned her head towards my voice. She responded to me! Her little legs kicked as if excited that I was there.

  I lost no time in hurrying to her, to pick her up and snuggle that sweet baby to my chest. I kissed her soft black curls ... she’s growing quite the crop of hair! Then I held her in front of my face.

  “Good morning, beautiful baby. Mommy loves you, Anrel.”

  Then another astonishing moment – she looked at me. Those clear blue-purple eyes riveted on my face, focusing. She was seeing me, perhaps for the first time. My daughter looked at me with a gaze that seemed to reach into my soul. Her fist popped out of her mouth and she made her happy chirping sounds.

  I couldn’t have been more overjoyed in that moment if all the worlds had given me their every treasure. I was swept up in love so complete that it hurt to try and hold it inside.

  When Tep came in to give updates (all good!), I showed him how Anrel seemed to be cognizant of me being there. He nodded, his lean face lighting with approval.

  “She’s developing at a normal pace, which is wonderful considering how the odds had been stacked against her from the start. I think we’ll have her in a normal environment within the week.”

  I was delighted when Oses showed up a little later, ready to show off my brilliant beautiful daughter. Oses is too intense a man to coo, but there is an amazing softness that appears on that tough Nobek’s face when he’s in Anrel’s presence.

  “Hello, you warrior queen,” he told Anrel, cradling her in the crook of one elbow. “Are you looking at me, little Anrel?”

  “She is,” I gushed. “See how alert and aware she is? Tep says she’s right on schedule for normal development.”

  “As if my tiny warrior would do any less.” Oses looked like he might burst from pride. “Once all her medical issues are past, she will excel at all she puts her mind to.”

  Okay, so we were probably ridiculous in our boasts. But Anrel is wonderful, and I’ll talk about it all day to anyone who will listen to me. And I’ll listen all day to anyone who wants to brag on her too.

  Unfortunately Oses had come not just to adore his niece, but to deliver awful news. “Shalia, Nang has been sighted.”

  My high spirits stuttered and failed. “Where?”

  “He showed up working a Dantovonian freighter on the Adraf station where you and I were captured by Finiuld.”

  “He’s following me,” I whispered, my eyes growing wide.

  “He knows you’re going to Kalquor, and I remain certain that’s where he’s heading as well. His route just happened to put him on the same space station where we were. It was a coincidence. Not a surprising one since that station is heavily frequented.”

  “He wasn’t caught?” That upset me. Weren’t there plenty of people looking for Nang?

  “You remember how big and busy Xniktix was. With Kalquor heading up the evacuation of Earth, plenty of Kalquorians are in and out of that place. Nang apparently disguised himself to keep from being immediately identified.”

  “But someone saw him, or else we wouldn’t know he’d been there.”

&nb
sp; Oses nodded. “He made some inquiries about our ship. Our abduction was big news, especially because it confirmed the existence of the Ofetuchan race. Nang was noticed by a couple of mercenaries who happened to be in a bar where he was asking some of the regulars what had happened. They thought his interest seemed to be obsessive, so they made inquiries of their own. They hoped to somehow cash in on helping him find you, since he asked about you by name. They instead found out he’s wanted by the Empire, with a reward offered for information leading to Nang’s capture.”

  “So what happened? Why wasn’t he found?”

  Oses sighed. “Xniktix is a huge station. He could have hidden himself quite well. If a man wants to disappear badly enough, he can in a place like that. At least for a little while. Or maybe he hired on to another vessel before he could be caught.”

  “So he could still be at the station or on his way to Kalquor again.”

  Oses gave me a comforting pat. “Even Nang can hide only so long. It’s a sure thing he’s already under way again.”

  I felt like a fly caught in a spider’s web, struggling helplessly and waiting for the inevitable end. Nang was still coming.

  “Try not to worry too much, pet,” Oses said. “You know you’re safe for now. There will be any number of safeguards placed around you and Anrel once you get to Kalquor. Nang won’t get anywhere near you.”

  “I suppose you’re right,” I said. He had one part absolutely correct; Nang was still a long way off. There was no immediate danger.

  Yet it still feels like doom waits on the horizon. What can I do to keep it away?

  To distract myself, I decided to move ahead with Betra’s suggestion on keeping Clans Aslada and Seot updated on my life. I recorded messages to each of them. Front and center was the update on Anrel. Meyso received many profuse thanks for sending the Solns our way, so to speak.

  Of course I told them about Nang as well, which kind of put a damper on the whole ‘distracting myself’ idea. In my message to Clan Seot, I asked Larten if he could send me some instruction on how to use the knife he’d sent. “Weapons Commander Oses says he can cover the basics, but I’ve heard you’re something of an expert,” I told Larten. “I’m hoping with all of my heart that I never have to use that scary-ass blade, but if I do, I’d prefer not to chop off my own arm.”

  I also thanked Seot for the trackers, assuring him both Anrel and I were now using them. Cifa got his due for the latest vid recorder ... not that I told him about all the footage it has captured thus far. It would hardly be polite to tell one beau how I’d used a gift he gave me during sex with two other men.

  Off went the messages, each ending with the request that the clans answer even if nothing of note was going on. “What happens in a day in the life of your clan?” I said, showing as much interest as I could without seeming fake. I do want to know ... like Betra said, it’s the everyday stuff that will make up most of my life with the clan I choose.

  August 5

  (Early)

  Anrel’s condition has upgraded again! Her current environment is at the last step before she is to leave Isolation entirely. We are all so excited. Everyone who knows me is shouting congratulations. At lunch, Captain Wotref came to the table I sat at with a bottle of leshella to toast to my baby’s continued improvement. He made the nicest speech too.

  “Matara Shalia, I had never met an Earther before I was called upon to transport all of you to the Empire. I had heard stories of frightened, weak Earther women, women who were cowed by an unjust society to the point where they trembled all day long. You and the rest of these amazing Mataras—” here he gave Katrina a special smile that made her blush with pleasure “—have shown us time and again that not only are you strong, capable people; but that the most fearsome Nobek should quake in fear at your approach!”

  That got a round of laughter. Oses made a show of nodding and grimacing as if terrorized, making us laugh all the harder.

  When we quieted, Wotref became a little more serious. His careworn face kind, he said, “In all honesty, Matara Shalia, I don’t believe I have ever known a more resilient, stronger person than you. I am delighted to note that your daughter, as young and small as she is, seems to have inherited that same ability to overcome odds that would make many a man crumble. I congratulate you both on all you have withstood. Long life, great health, and honor to you.”

  I blinked back tears as I raised my glass and thanked him. He gave me a deep bow, which was echoed by all the Kalquorian men in the room. I was astounded that they thought so much of me. Shalia Monroe, the Earther who seemed to trip over trouble on almost a daily basis? I felt I really hadn’t deserved such notice.

  The leshella was damned good though. I wasn’t about to refuse that.

  (Later)

  Shit. Shit. Fuck. Fuck! FUCK!

  I just received a message. From Nang. From fucking Nang.

  He’d recorded it while still within Earth’s system, before he got to Xniktix Station. That son of a bitch had the fucking gall to think I’d want him to come after me!

  Okay, I’m getting ahead of myself. I’ll start from the beginning.

  After Tep chased me out of Anrel’s room this afternoon, I went to physical rehab. That therapist Dramok Resan is a bastard, always pushing me to go a little harder than I feel comfortable doing. To say we don’t get along would be putting it lightly.

  I came into my quarters after, wringing with sweat, my legs all trembly from exertion, and calling Resan more bad names than he’s probably heard his entire life. I saw right away that a message had been left for me. So I played it.

  My stomach became a ball of ice when a familiar resonant voice came from the com unit. “Hello Shalia. It’s Nang.”

  My legs, already weak from therapy, damned near dumped me on the floor. I just barely managed to get to my lounger before dropping. I saw my reflection on the wall mirror: eyes wide open, mouth gaping like a landed fish. Horror doesn’t begin to describe how I looked at that moment.

  Meanwhile, Nang’s voice rolled on. “I learned of your pregnancy. I know in my heart that I am the father. All the times we spent together – all the fun we had – Shalia, I know you are hoping I will come for you and our child. That we can be the family we are meant to be.”

  He was delusional. It was obvious. His tone had that fervent ring that religious fanatics get when they talk about being called on by God.

  “I’ve left Trenu and Kru. They have no place in our lives. I never should have clanned them. You and I and our baby are clan enough. I love you both with all my soul. This was meant to be, so we will find a way to live without Kalquor.”

  Then he said the words that chilled me to my very core. “I am coming for you both. I will find you and I will take you away. Nothing – no one – will stop me.”

  That’s where the message ended. I’ve already commed Oses and he is on his way.

  (Later)

  I’m not so freaked out right now. Oses reminded me for the hundredth time that Nang is still far away, even though he looked ready to tear someone’s head off after hearing that awful message.

  I have to give myself a little pat on the back. Though I called for Oses the moment that recording finished playing, I managed not to be screamy. I didn’t wail and cry and go all wimpy. When he got here, I simply replayed it and waited for his reaction.

  “Gurluck,” he swore, his lips wrinkling back to display his fangs. “The man is insane.”

  “I’ll go along with that,” I answered. “The craziest thing is he thinks that I would want him to come for me and Anrel. He’s delusional.”

  “He will not have you, Shalia. You and the baby are safe and will remain that way. I swear it,” Oses said. His eyes spat purple fire. I think if Nang had shown his face right then, Oses would have bitten it off.

  He had no one to take his anger out on. He needed some outlet for that energy though. Oses looked me over, fury joined by another primitive expression. Well, passion has more than one fac
e. Fury easily translates to lust with a man like the weapons commander.

  I held a hand up. “I just got put through my paces with that sadist Resan. I’m a sweaty mess.”

  “Then let’s clean you up,” Oses growled.

  He came at me like a freight train. A moment later I was slung over his beefy shoulder, being carried with long strides to my bathroom.

  “Hey!” I shouted. “What are you doing?”

  “Giving you a shower,” he said in his gruff tone.

  “What about work?”

  “Fuck it. What’s the point of having rank if I can’t use it every now and then?”