Sure, sparring with the other fighters was rigorous, but coordinating his attacks to coincide with Pherral’s was more challenging. Pherral, on the other hand, seemed at ease, as if their recent session hadn’t seen blood on the sand. Yeah, more of it was Krax’s but still, bone breaks hurt regardless. One would never know from Pherral’s laughing while he ate voraciously.
Pherral caught Krax staring and raised a brow. When Krax did nothing, Pherral smiled, rose, and wandered across to his dining table. He ran a hand down Krax’s arm as he sat on the bench.
Pherral looked good. Krax wanted to fuck him again. He was just trying to figure out how to ask without just pushing Pherral against a wall when the room went quiet.
Malichai strutted over. “I heard you’ve settled in.” Pherral nodded once. “Good. I have another job for you tonight.”
Pherral said nothing, merely looked up at Malichai waiting for him to elaborate. Krax wasn’t as patient. Smug asshole. He might hold the reins of this space-waste fight club, but he needed to respect the fighter guidelines. Those scheduled, with fights on the docket, were exempt from extracurricular assignments. Malichai needed to find someone else.
“I need a healthy partner to train before the match, not one shitting maggots for four turns because you need him to entertain some offroids!”
Visitors to the asteroid weren’t exactly the cream of the galaxy. They tended to be the refuse that other places wouldn’t take, and this made escort work more than unpleasant, it made it dangerous. It’s one thing to be fucked and smacked around a bit, another to be stuck in a hyperknit for a day and given maggot enemas.
The metal of the dining table warping beneath Krax’s fist as he pressed down hard enough to stop himself from grabbing Malichai.
Pherral stood between them. “I believe regulations state I won’t be available to escort until medical clearance after the match plus two turns.”
Malichai glowered, and let out a rumbling growl.
“That is what my auction contract specified.”
Frustrated, Malichai searched the room and bellowed, “Triton! Get ready for 1800. They’re expecting a good ride.”
The fighter paled.
“I’ll collect you then.” Malichai glared at Krax and Pherral as he swept out shouting orders at his goons.
Chapter 4
“Wear this.”
A pair of Sylvex shorts smacked Krax in the chest as Pherral wandered into his cell. His momentary distraction by the miniscule shiny fabric was quickly rerouted to the figure lounging in his doorway. Pherral looked as if he’d been dipped into Sylvex, the glossy black uninterrupted, and hiding nothing. Indeed, the array of closures in strategic locations begged further investigation.
“We’re going out. I want us to match.”
Pherral was covered entirely in reflective black, neck to fingertips to boots. In comparison, Krax’s outfit was nothing more than a tiny pair of shorts in crimson that reminded him of a pool of blood. A very small pool of blood.
“This is all I get?”
The tapping of fingers on the door frame was the only response, the slide of material on Pherral’s gloved hands adding a slight drag to the cadence of impatience. Krax wiggled into the slick fabric, shimmying to coax it up. Midway up his thighs, Krax released the closure on the shorts until the two halves were held together only by a band at the back. He struggled, tugging at the fabric. He finally gave up and looked to Pherral.
With a snort, Pherral moved in. He pulled the two halves down and sprayed the inside with Mistol. He yanked the shorts back up the last few inches to Krax’s crotch. Kneeling down, he knelt and grasped the closure. He pulled it around as the tacky caress of his glove guarded Krax’s testicles from injury. Pherral’s hand stretching Krax’s skin taunt as he shielded him. The fastener covered his sac, his cock, and then, finally, Pherral was done.
Pherral looked up, crouched before him with a mischievous smile. “Play your cards right, and I’ll help you out of them later.” Rising, he tweaked Krax’s nipple.
The closure dug into his flesh, their teeth undoubtedly leaving marks. Krax tried to shift his cock out of their path to no avail. A good thing he wasn’t naturally hirsute or tufts would be sprouting out. Nonetheless, with a little bit more encouragement from Pherral, he’d probably outgrow the confines of his costume. Guess the sharp edges had some usefulness.
Pherral hummed and looked him over appraisingly. He ran his gloves over Krax’s shorn scalp. “And wear your harness, the one with studs.”
Catcalls and whistles followed them into The Pit; the club where the free and off-worlders hung out. Gladiator slaves weren’t usually welcome here, but who was going to turn away any being that looked like Pherral? Pherral seemed unperturbed at the attention, but this was different from the calls Krax usually garnered. Cheers while he was in the cage was nothing like the sexualized comments that trailed their progress through the riveted plate doors. His fight schedule didn’t leave much opportunity for escort work, and those jobs that came his way were conducted in private. Scions of the galaxy preferred not to be observed yielding to a gladiator slave. While some of his stable companions were often on their knees, Krax’s clients wanted to be the ones begging for his attentions.
The gauntlet of stray hands groping and assessing as they meandered through the club entrance had already left a few bruises. The groping was so insistent Krax had to pause to refasten his shorts. Pherral headed for a spotlighted table in the back third of the club. He reclined on a bench and beckoned Krax over with his finger.
“You are causing quite the flurry.” Pherral’s Sylvex-clad thumb and forefinger pinched Krax’s nipple, sending shivers through his body. “Will you play a game for me?”
At this point, Krax’s body was begging him to agree to anything that resulted in more of whatever Pherral had in mind.
He inclined his head. “As you wish.”
The grin that erupted on Pherral’s face assured him that he’d answered correctly.
“You are perfect.” Pulling him closer to kneel beside him. The slick fabric magnified the caress of Pherral’s hand. He pulled on Krax’s chin, bending to give him a chaste kiss, then licked into Krax’s mouth lewdly. Krax opened for more, but Pherral pulled back.
“Just like that.” The smooth tip of the glove ran around the inside of his lips. “Keep them open for me, waiting.” The fingers sliding in to touch Krax’s tongue, the taste artificial and bitter. Pherral pushed down and ran two fingers back and forth across Krax’s tongue, saliva easing the way.
A server in chain mail shorts approached. Pherral ordered two Black Holes. He grinned down at Krax. “You ready for a good time?”
Krax nodded. Pherral pushed his fingers deeper into Krax’s mouth. The tips of the gloves breached Krax’s throat. He coughed, and Pherral withdrew his fingers.
“Control. Let me in and you won’t choke.” Pherral’s fingers pushed back in again.
Krax tried to relax his throat, desperate not to gag as Pherral pushed deeper. Krax’s eyes watered as Pherral blocked his airway. He swallowed around the fingers. The club swirled around them. Stay calm. Don’t panic. Pherral’s fingers eased back, giving Krax relief, as Pherral nonchalantly observed the crowd. The distraction was faked; Krax felt Pherral in tune with his every movement.
“Breathe,” Pherral murmured, his words for Krax alone. Those fingers moved to one of the closures on Pherral’s chest. The suit rasped as it opened, unveiling Pherral’s pectoral and light brown nipple. The warm brown of Pherral’s skin against the unrelenting black of the Sylvex was erotic and utterly mesmerizing.
“Come here.” Pherral pulled on Krax’s harness. “Put that mouth to good use.”
Krax’s bottom lip scraped against the suit opening. He lapped at Pherral’s flesh. It peaked under his touch. His tongue curled around the hard nub. He swallowed the delicious salt of Pherral’s body, every nerve afire.
“Very pretty,” admired a deep voice behind him.
> Chapter 5
Krax jerked. He hadn’t even heard the stranger approach. Was he that far out of it?
Pherral’s hand wrapped around the back of Krax’s head, holding him fast to his chest.
“Two fighters without attendants, this must be a tragedy.” The new voice was right behind Krax.
Pherral laughed seductively. His legs closed around Krax’s hips, pulling his body closer. “Sometimes we’re all the company we need.”
“If that were true, you wouldn’t be here, would you?” A large hand proprietarily covered Pherral’s hand where it lay on Krax’s head. A second hand, the skin dark green, threaded through Pherral’s hair and held fast.
A Bauman, then. Krax stiffened, but Pherral stroked his temple with his thumb.
“I would like your attention this evening,” said the stranger. “I have a feeling that you’re all the entertainment I could hope for.”
His lips crushed into Pherral’s, drawing out a moan. The Bauman pressed closer, lips and licking gave way to teeth that pulled a bit at Pherral’s flesh.
The stranger pulled back with a smile. “Come, and bring your pet.” He dropped a leash on the bench. The floor vibrated as the Bauman walked away.
“Game time.” Pherral clipped the end of the leash to Krax’s harness and urged him to his feet. They followed the Bauman deeper into the club. Pools of color shone from the ceiling illuminating the room in splashes. In the back, the exclusive seating was broken up into salons; each one rented out for an extravagant sum. Sliding panels made each area as visible or private as the client desired. This Bauman was not just any visitor to Delta 54.
Pherral sauntered, each step an invitation to observe. His luscious form swayed in the skintight Sylvex, inviting appreciation. The single nipple on display stood lewdly erect and showcased by the black fabric. Krax enjoyed their progress, the click of Pherral’s boots and the hush that followed their passage.
As they approached the salon the Bauman had chosen, Pherral slowed at the edge of a light pool. Highlights glistened off his hair, the spectrum making it appear blue instead of black. Pherral tugged Krax to his side and awaited instructions. The Bauman gestured for the leash. Pherral handed it over.
Strong green hands pulled Krax forward. Krax shivered as the Bauman ran his eyes down his body, and then Pherral’s. A smile curved the corner of the Bauman’s mouth as he trailed his wide hand over Krax’s arms, chest, stomach. He stroked lower, caressing the skin under Krax’s shorts.
“Some men fight like they fuck. I’ve seen you, the Frax champion.” The Bauman’s eyes glinted with intent as the other hand pulled at the tab of Krax’s shorts. The closure separated, baring an inch of Krax’s skin to the air.
“The stallion of their stable.” The Bauman tugged at the closure again. The head of Krax’s cock escaped the confines of the loosening fabric. The rest of the closure gave way as the swollen erect member pushed against it. The open closure biting into the flesh of Krax’s sac.
“But are you a stallion, or merely a mare?”
Krax gasped as the leash yanked him down to his knees. The Bauman’s strength was undeniable, making Krax’s submission easy. He whimpered as a boot pressed his cock against the chilled silver nickel floor.
The Bauman motioned to Pherral. “Your pet does best with a firm hand, or foot, as may be.”
The force increased, crushing Krax’s cock.
“Relieve the discomfort of his shorts; unnecessary pain is not what we’re after.”
Pherral pulled the closure free from Krax’s skin, and Krax cried out. A gloved hand quickly pushed into the front of the shorts as they started separating.
“All the way,” the Bauman urged.
Pherral kept unfastening until the tab stopped. The material stuck to the sides of Krax’s hips like the shortest chaps ever worn, his crotch bared for view. Krax panted, the pain easing from both the lifted boot and his pants.
“Excellent. Come here.” The Bauman patted the seat beside him, and Pherral sat.
Krax knelt in front of them as the Bauman and Pherral kissed. The Bauman dug his teeth into Pherral’s lower lip. The air was cool against his drying skin. He could feel the weight of the stares of patrons passing the front of their salon, staring through the open curtains.
“You are as lovely as your boy. I’d buy you for my harem.” The Bauman’s hand slid to the opening of Pherral’s suit. “You both need to be pierced, decorated,” he said squeezing the nipple harshly.
Pherral’s cry became a moan as another green hand unfastened a lower closure. Krax licked his lips as the suit opened, revealing Pherral’s beautifully thick cock.
“Hmmm…” smiled the Bauman as he wrapped a hand around it. “I can see why your pet is so eager.” Releasing Pherral’s length, he yanked on Krax’s neglected leash.
Krax crawled over, following the pull until his mouth was almost there.
“Lick.”
Krax didn’t have to be told twice. He stretched his tongue, running up the tip around the silken head of Pherral’s cock. He laved the entire length, then gave a flurry of licks under the head. He pushed the tip of his tongue into Pherral’s slit then sucked the head.
“A cock worthy of decoration, too,” admired the Bauman.
Krax moaned, imagining a heavy ring to tug between his lips. A spurt of pre-come flooded his mouth.
“Not yet,” the Bauman scolded, pulling Krax off Pherral, the thick flesh falling from between his lips. A bead of fluid escaped, trailing down Pherral’s shaft, glistening iridescent in the glow of the overhead lights. Krax gazed, entranced. A thick finger tapped against his hole then pressed in, breaching him. The Bauman’s thumb rubbed against his perineum as it pushed deeper.
The slide of it was blissful. Coated in something thick and slippery; the digit moved easily within him.
“How long has it been since you were mounted? So tight.” Another finger pushed against his entrance. “Relax, ” the Bauman murmured as he stretched Krax’s rim.
It burned. It was too much. Krax whimpered as the Bauman fucked into him.
“Ease him.” Bauman’s words had Pherral moving. He urged Krax onto the table. The Bauman levered Krax by the fingers in his ass as Pherral scurried behind him. Blinded by the spotlight, all Krax could do was feel and hear.
Krax shuddered as a warm wet caress traced around the Bauman’s fingers. The Bauman’s large thumb rubbed the skin behind Krax’s balls as Pherral’s tongue pushed in alongside his fingers, licking at Krax’s hole.
“I have a pretty thing like you at home.” The Bauman fucked him earnestly with those two fat fingers. “He’d never been mounted before I bought him.” The Bauman’s voice dripped with affection. “But with patience, I trained him, and now he takes my phallus to the hilt. Nothing would be prettier than watching you take it for the first time with this one licking us both.” Krax moaned as the fingers abruptly pulled out. “But that’s not happening tonight.”
“Fuck him open.”
Chapter 6
The insistent push and glide into his body made Krax’s head spin. The leather cut into his skin as Pherral used Krax’s harness, hauling him back onto his cock until he was seated on Pherral’s lap, his groin flush with Krax’s ass cheeks. Krax groaned at the sensation of being full. It was almost too much.
Licking his nape, Pherral hummed “Delicious, but I knew you would be.” He alternated between licks and bites as he thrust upwards, jabbing his cock in short, deep strokes. Krax was slowly losing his mind. He groaned each time Pherral withdrew, grasping desperately with his fingers for whatever he could find.
“You’re so gorgeous like this. All fucked out of your mind.” Pherral bit harder. The throbbing of Krax’s shoulder was nothing like the one in his ass.
“More,” groaned Krax.
Pherral laughed. “You want more; take it.” Releasing his shoulders, Pherral pushed Krax forward again, back onto his hands and knees. The movement dislodged him from Pherral’s cock. The
emptiness overwhelmed him.
“Come on,” Krax moaned. His body thrummed with anticipation.
The Bauman chuckled, his voice low and delighted. “Very nice.” Lifting Krax’s chin, “Ask again. Beg for it,” he ordered.
Pherral waited. The slight caress of the blunt head nudged against Krax’s opening, the promise irresistible. Krax needed it. The Bauman watched him.
“There is no struggle.” The enormous hand was surprisingly gentle as the thumb stroked Krax’s cheek. Krax took comfort in it.
Krax wrestled with himself. They were only words. But…words he’d never uttered. He didn’t beg. He fought. Win or lose, but never begged. Was this all just a game?
“Your friend is waiting so patiently to fuck you.” Suddenly, Krax’s cock was enveloped in a large green hand that stroked him mercilessly, inciting him to action.
“Please, please. Pherral, just fuck me, please.” The words tumbled out, unfiltered and nearly unintelligible. It was enough. The Bauman smiled and nodded. Neither hand left him as Pherral lined himself up and fucked into him furiously; his hips pistoned, the bones bruising Krax’s ass. The relentless pace had Krax gasping for breath. The Bauman’s fingers pinched the head of his dick.
“Not yet.”
Krax shook his head. The pain bit sharp as ice in orbit as the green fingers dug into his frenulum.
“Yes, wait.” Frissons of pleasure ricocheted through Krax’s body as Pherral maintained his assault, the pleasure in sharp contrast to pain in the head of his cock. A slap against his face demanded Krax’s attention. It was the Bauman’s cock.
“Focus.”
Krax turned his head. The Bauman’s cock was larger than his fist. There was no way it would fit in his mouth. Krax made up for it by suckling noisily as he laved all over. Drool and pre-come smeared all over his face. The Bauman pulled Pherral back, and Krax whined when he withdrew.
Krax Page 2
