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His Human Conquest

Page 13

by Stella Rising


  He activates the telerings around my wrists to cross my arms behind my back, then the ones at my ankles spread my legs. I feel so open and exposed, and my pussy throbs, aching to be touched.

  “You know what I want you to say, pet.”

  Gasping at my utter helplessness, I nod. “Please let me come, sir.”

  “You can come,” he replies, lowering his black pants. “As much as you want.”

  Holding his massive cock in his hand and me in the other, he pulls me in closer. With my limbs locked in place and no gravity, I can only watch as he guides my sodden entrance onto his hot, steely tip. I feel every inch of his rigid shaft sliding against the butt plug, and quickly an orgasm starts to surge. My groan turns to rapid panting as Vol presses in as deep as he can, only to immediately pull back out. I throw my head back, staring out into the stars, biting my lip as he pulls me in again.

  Teasing me, he takes his time, driving me as crazy as possible. He works my butt plug, drawing it in and out at the same time as his cock, making sure one of my holes is always filled, if not both. He spanks my ass with his free hand, giving each cheek a steady burn and rosy glow. When he decides my ass has had enough, he rubs my clit with his thumb, slowly caressing back and forth until I’m practically begging him to plunge his incredible rod back into me. He may have given me permission to come, but he’s not letting me get there. I heave against my bindings, desperately wanting to use my hands to bring myself to climax, but there’s nothing I can do. No matter how much I get used to being at Vol’s mercy, he finds new ways to make me beg.

  “Please, sir. I’m ready,” I mumble.

  I don’t know if he’s not hearing me or if he’s being cruel, because he opts to suckle at my breasts instead, playing his tongue across my hardened nipples. It feels amazing, and I can’t get enough, but all I want right now is to come so bad. Even as his tongue flicks my nipple, I wish he’d do the same to my clit.

  “Please!” I beg, my voice a high-pitched squeal. “I… I belong to you, Master. Please let me come.”

  Vol smiles, his cock throbbing. To my great relief, he lines it up to my pussy, grips my thighs in his massive hands, and pulls me forward, shoving himself inside. He quickly builds up a steady pace, his firm grip keeping me in place. His jaw drops and his eyes roll backward, no doubt lost in bliss. He’s not the only one; pleasure seizes my brain as my stalled orgasm quickly reignites. Vol lets go of my thighs so he can continue to spank my ass, using both hands to smack each cheek; the licks of pain arc through the plug and coil with the orgasmic bliss into a single sensation, spicy and sweet.

  When I finally come, I howl so loud I imagine the entire galaxy can hear. I release so much energy, I feel like my glow could outshine the sun. Even when I reach the height of euphoria, I don’t come down for very long; Vol’s rapid pounding brings on a second orgasm before I can catch my breath from the first.

  Grunting happily, Vol bites softly at my nipple, tasting my skin. When he tires of it, he grips the base of my butt plug, pulling it in and out in rhythm with his cock. Every thrust makes me gasp as my holes are stretched and filled. Sweat beads on my forehead and heat envelops my entire body. I jerk against my bindings involuntarily, though the effort gets me nowhere. My jaw hangs open, even when my lungs empty and I can’t howl any more. All these sensations quickly blast me off the edge of another intense orgasm.

  As soon as it finishes, Vol immediately starts thrusting at full speed. I quickly lose all semblance of myself; between everything he’s doing to me and the lack of gravity, I’m figuratively and literally adrift. All I can do is savor every last second of utter bliss.

  * * *

  When I regain my composure, I’m in Vol’s arms, staring out at the Earth from the ship’s observation platform. He’s gotten me back into my dress and relieved me of the plug in my ass. His feet are planted firmly on the ground, and I can feel him lifting me, meaning gravity’s been turned back on.

  Lingering pleasure hums throughout my body like an electric current, despite the ubiquitous soreness. In particular, I can still feel the sting of Vol’s hands swatting my behind, but at this point I don’t even mind.

  “Thank you, sir,” I say, snuggling against his hard chest. “I needed that. You have no idea how stressed out I’ve been.”

  “What do you mean?” he asks.

  Oh, fuck me.

  As I realize what I just said, my dress turns a murky green. I’m not ready to tell him about Bradley’s communication. We’ve been so busy today, I haven’t given it any thought—it’s just festered in the back of my mind.

  “With the summit and all,” I say, covering. It hurts me to lie to him—hasn’t he earned the truth by now? I can rationalize keeping secrets because that might hurt people on Earth, but I know the real reason is because I don’t want to disappoint Vol. He means too much to me. But if I loved him, and he loved me, would it matter? Couldn’t I tell him anything?

  I should just let it all spill out now, but the thought makes my stomach cramp like there’s something angry trapped inside.

  Vol nods, seeming to accept my answer. “Don’t worry, pet. By the time I’ve finished your training, you’ll be ready.”

  Staring out at the Earth, I think, I hope so.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Jillian

  Vol spends the weeks leading up to the summit teaching me everything he can about the Dominars, while he learns from me about humans. He already knows plenty, particularly thanks to a report filed by a Dominar agent who surveilled Earth for decades, but I still find ways to pique his curiosity—not as often as he blows my mind, but on occasion.

  Although I’m happy to learn more about Dominar technology—such as how the nanites arrest the aging process, allowing Dominars to maintain their eternal youth and perfect physiques—I’m far more excited by the virtual tours he gives me of the galaxy. Since he’s told me about the Dominus and Ohalessa, he starts there, showing me the magnificent space station and then taking me down to the paradise planet below. At first the world feels like Earth, with coppery, snow-capped mountains and expansive fields of beautiful flowers, but then I see the real marvels: the purple forests where ohastrix jump from tree to tree, waterfalls that rise miles in the air, and sprawling cities that would make New York look like a humble burg.

  Though I could have skipped it, Vol shows me some of the prison worlds, including Cetaski. Though it’s far from a broken wasteland, it looks cold and uninviting, with rocky land, long winters, and animals ill-disposed toward domestication. There are a handful of settlements scattered around the planet, but Vol assures me they’re not hostile, and any human headed there will have plenty of space.

  Vakhsa, on the other hand, makes me fear the kind of person who could actually survive there. Seeing my reaction to the place, Vol quickly moves on.

  Of course, with thousands of worlds in the Dominar Empire, he can hardly show me all of them, but we go through a great many. There are worlds covered by beautiful cities, with towers rising so high in the sky they pierce the clouds long before reaching the top. They have planets free of civilization, pristine in their natural beauty. Some worlds have been part of the Empire for millennia, while others are practically brand new in comparison.

  Most important, Vol shows me dozens of places like Earth: conquered by the Dominars, living peacefully and thriving. Some of them remain extremely primitive, others have risen to extraordinary levels of advancement—yet, they all abide by Dominar rule.

  During one session I ask, “Are there any worlds you don’t conquer?”

  His face darkens and he summons a hologram showing several worlds. “Plenty.”

  Some of them are burning husks, while others are covered by ice or toxic, gaseous clouds. A few, however, seem normal. “What about those? They look okay.”

  Vol nods. “They are now, after thousands of years of terraforming.”

  “Oh,” I mumble. “Is that what you think would happen to Earth?”

  “Pr
obably. As you can see, it’s sadly not unusual. But I’m here to prevent that, and I’m not going anywhere until the job is done.”

  “I know,” I say.

  Shutting off the holograms, Vol takes my hand and pulls me to my feet. “Come on, pet. I think you know more than enough at this point. Let’s go have some fun. We can do anything you like.”

  Biting my lip, I say, “Whatever you wish is fine with me, sir.”

  He grins, shaking his head. “I have something planned for later, but we have time before then. So, what would you like?”

  My core flushes with warmth, I think back to my first visit to Bountiful Harvest. “I seem to recall you saying something about… an erotic temple.”

  “I thought you’d never ask.”

  * * *

  Vol has me wear Gloa’s dress to the temple, and I don’t argue. Where we’re going, I’m not particularly concerned if people can tell I’m horny and excited.

  Although I’ve seen examples of such temples during my learning sessions in the past few weeks, all of them incredible edifices of fine stone, the one on Bountiful Harvest is quite beautiful in its own right. Though the exterior of the Hidden Jewel looks much the same as any other establishment on the ship, the interior looks like the center of a brilliant geode, crystalline and glittering. Though separate rooms exist to serve those few who desire privacy, most of the Dominars and pets congregate around a series of circular stages.

  While I’ve seen several examples of species ruled by the Dominars in my studies, this is the first chance I’ve had to see them in person. Most look very human, stemming from similar genetic origins when our planets were first seeded with life. I see pets with small horns growing from their chins and foreheads; pets with no noses, that smell the air with long, snake-like tongues; pets that glow with their own bioluminescence; and plenty more. What matters most is what they all share in common: affection for their masters. Though a few pout as though they’ve just been chastised or punished, I don’t see any who look genuinely unhappy, afraid, or traumatized.

  Maybe this is what humans should see.

  “Incredible, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, sir,” I say, taking in everything. In particular, I turn to the stage, where two pets perform a synchronized erotic dance. Both naked and beautiful, they move with slow, graceful precision, hypnotizing the audience, only to spring forth without warning.

  “They’re very talented,” I say, scanning the crowd. “Who are their masters?”

  Vol shrugs. “They may not have any. They may belong to the temple. Or perhaps their masters have given them leave to attract mates of their choosing.”

  “What? Some masters do that?”

  “Yes,” Vol laughs. “After hundreds or perhaps thousands of years, masters and pets both sometimes like to experience companionship with others. Not all of us, of course—but some.”

  Feeling a flutter in my stomach, I ask, “What about you, sir?”

  In response, he wraps an arm around me and pulls me close. “No, not me. Although, I do have half a mind to put you on that stage.”

  “What?” The flutter grows, beating around inside my chest. “I can’t go up there!”

  Chuckling, Vol starts marching us closer. “Sure you can. You’re a lovely pet; everyone here would be happy to see you.”

  “But I can’t do that!” I protest, pointing to the dancers. “I don’t have a routine!”

  “Oh, I see. Don’t worry, Jillian. This is a particularly sensual display. Most of the performances are more erotic in nature. Harsh spankings, elaborate bondage, marathon orgies… Sometimes you never know in these places.”

  My mind races, trying to imagine. “What would you have me do, sir?” I ask.

  He takes my hand and leads me to a small table, where we sit. “Let me worry about that. I’ve put in a request for us to go on soon.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  We wait for more than an hour, sipping incredible alien cocktails while watching a variety of performers. The combination proves very stimulating, and when our turn comes, I’m eagerly anticipating whatever Vol has planned.

  The audience applauds politely as we take the stage. I wonder if they know who we are—is Vol famous among his people? If they live so long, do they all know each other? Or are they too vast, and too spread apart for that? I’ll have to ask later.

  “Remove your dress, pet,” he commands as we begin. “Slowly.”

  I do as he says, lifting the dress with deliberate motion, revealing my body an inch at a time. When I finally slip it off, I receive a scatter of applause that is quickly drowned out by laughter, as Vol suddenly lifts me off the stage, startling me. He hasn’t told me what he’s going to do, not wanting to spoil any surprises, so I cry out as he turns me upside down and activates my ankle rings, locking them in place in midair. Using my wrists’ telerings, he crosses them tightly behind my back.

  “Oh, god,” I gasp, trying to suppress my body’s innate panic instinct. I’ve never hung from my ankles like this, and I can’t help fearing that I’m going to fall, even though I know Vol won’t let that happen. It’s hard to process being upside down while having no control over one’s body. My heart hammers in my chest, and I breathe deeply, trying to calm myself.

  “You okay, pet?” Vol whispers in my ear.

  “This is crazy!” I hiss back. “Sir!”

  “Yeah, you’re okay,” he laughs, retrieving from his belt a black flogger with a narrow hilt and short lashes. “Relax.”

  “Yes, sir,” I grunt.

  I close my eyes, trying to tune out every sensation except the leathery tendrils slapping against my ass. The pain doesn’t even bother me—I use it to ground myself in the experience, especially when Vol establishes a steady rhythm so I know when to expect each swing. If I can focus on a sensation I’ve felt too many times to count, I can ignore the other circumstances.

  “Eyes open, pet,” Vol says, breaking my concentration with a scorching swat across my backside.

  My shriek cuts through the temple, but I do as he says, forcing my eyes open. Before me I can see the upside-down audience smirking and snickering at my predicament. Glaring at them, I twist a little against the telerings, trying to soothe the sharp throb coming from my ass.

  By requiring I not close my eyes, I can’t shut out anything—I’m not disciplined enough for that. All of the sights and noise get to me a little, and I start whimpering. I sound like I did when Vol first took me over his knee—all my pain tolerance and conditioning count for nothing. It’s upsetting, but I tell myself to look at it as a new challenge. Thinking of how happy Vol will be if I please him helps give me strength. That’s the effect he has on me.

  You love him, I realize. No one has ever made me feel this way, and I don’t think there’s any other way to explain it.

  “Are you not enjoying yourself, pet?” Vol asks, sensing my distress.

  “This is difficult, sir,” I say, trying not to let my voice waver.

  Caressing my sore cheeks, Vol sighs. “You’re doing very well, Jillian. But this is nothing. You have far bigger tests coming. You have to be ready.”

  He’s right. The summit will most likely be a defining moment in human history. I need to be ready for anything.

  “Yes, sir. I will be, sir.”

  He resumes the flogging with a continuous circular swing, brushing my skin softly at first, switching from one cheek to the next. After every few rotations, he adds more force and speed to the swing, and soon the punishing slaps ring out.

  I’m starting to find my strength, focusing on savoring the pain, when Dutton Bradley’s voice speaks in my head.

  Jillian, are you there?

  I moan as Vol delivers three hard swings.

  Not now! Not now!

  Jillian, this is Bradley. We need to speak immediately!

  It figures he’d do this at the worst possible time.

  What is it? Can it wait, like, an hour?

  “Jillian, are you there?
” Vol asks, pulling my freshly styled hair.

  “Yes, sir,” I say.

  “I don’t want your mind wandering.”

  “It won’t, sir,” I insist.

  He shakes his head, and takes from his jacket pocket two devices I’ve become too familiar with during my training: Yckjer clamps, a pair of thin bars connected by sliding catches. Vol releases them into the air, allowing them to float up to my breasts. Grabbing hold, they tighten instantly, pinching my erect nipples. Agony arcs through them and out into the rest of my body, adding to my suffering even more.

  “Stay in the moment, pet. Understood?”

  Jillian, are you going to be at the summit?

  Yes!

  “I said, is that understood?”

  “Y-yes, sir.”

  Great! Our plans are all set. We’re going to get you out of there, mark my words.

  I wince as Vol smacks my breasts with the flogger, making sure not to miss my aching nipples. My mind reels, trying to concentrate. I can’t let Bradley ruin the summit—Earth’s future might depend on it.

  No! Whatever it is you’re doing, cancel it!

  What?

  Call it off! The Dominars are not our enemies!

  “Jillian, do I have to make you count?”

  “No, sir,” I mumble.

  “I think I do. Call out each stroke. Don’t mess up, or we’ll start over.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Tensing and clenching my ass, I ready myself for Vol’s first swing. However, when he delivers the smack, he switches from my ass to my bare pussy. The sting lances through me so badly I shake in my bonds, struggling fruitlessly to get loose.

  “One, sir!”

  Are you crazy, Wexler? If we can stop an alien invasion, we have to try!

  No! I’m telling you, don’t—

  The flogger slaps my pussy again, completely breaking off my thought. I howl and buck, then call out, “Two, sir!”

  I can’t believe I’m going to say what I’m going to say during what’s going on, but…

 

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