Venus Online_Book 1_LitRPG Sci-Fi Harem

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Venus Online_Book 1_LitRPG Sci-Fi Harem Page 6

by Jeremy Zenith

"Good." Her eyes narrowed. "Come. I will take you to perform the Ritual of Bonding."

  She took his hand and walked away, pulling him along behind him. He looked back at Scarlett, who just grinned and made thrusting motions with her hips.

  The sound of laughter and cheering grew more distant as Chetaara and Byron made their way through the freighter. After passing through narrow metal corridors, they found a long hallway with doors alongside its length. Each open door showed a small cabin inside it. This seemed to be the living quarters for the freighter.

  Chetaara ignored all of them, headed for the very end of the hall with a much larger cabin. The sign on the door said, "Captain."

  She turned back to him and looked down at him with heavy eyes. "Here, where the freighter's captain once tried to force me to perform the Ritual of Bonding with him when we came aboard. I choose to perform the ritual with you."

  He looked behind them down the hallway. "Sure the captain won't mind?"

  "No, he will not. I killed him."

  A lump formed in his throat at the calm way she said the words. "You did?"

  "Of course. Attempting the Ritual of Bonding with an unwilling Nikora is punishable by death. I ripped his throat out with my teeth. I killed all the freighter's crew because they tried to take advantage of us. But fear not, Byron Jones. I will not kill you."

  He swallowed the lump. "Uh, good."

  She leaned down to rub her nose against his. He breathed in her earthy scent like pine cones as she whispered, "I ache for you, Byron Jones."

  His cock swelled at the touch of her body against his. "I ache for you, too, Chetaara."

  She took his hand and yanked him into the captain's quarters, surprisingly strong enough to almost pull him off his feet. When they were both inside, she slammed the door, locked it by swiping akeypad and turned to face him with hungry eyes.

  He really hoped the Ritual of Bonding involved something sexual. He was picking up that vibe but part of him wondering if the ritual was just about praying together or something. He considered the fact that she was taller than him and covered in stripes, but that only made her seem more exotic.

  Her hands slid up her stomach, over her breasts, and up her neck until they reached a knot on her bikini top. She pulled the string and the top fell away. Her breasts came into view and they were beautiful; plump and heavy with large nipples. He reached out for them, keeping an eye on her to see if it was okay. He still wasn't sure if he had misread her signals.

  When he finally pressed his hands against her breasts and she moaned, he knew this was going down. He leaned in to kiss and lick her tits while she rolled her head back and cried out.

  "Yes," she moaned. "Make me yours."

  She arched her back, forcing her breasts deeper into her mouth, all while whispering something in a language he didn't understand. His hands stroked the boobs in circles while he planted kisses over their soft curves. The nipples grew firmer between his lips and she cried out.

  "Oh, yes! That feels so good." She followed with a string of chants in an alien language.

  She pulled his head up to kiss him, and he felt her urgent need as she pressed against his lips. Her fingers traced along his neck, grazing his skin with her sharp claws but never cutting him. The sensation made goosebumps spring up on his neck. She continued to trace a path down to his collar.

  "Remove these coverings," she whispered into his ear.

  He obeyed, reaching down to unzip his jumpsuit. She helped it off his shoulders and down his arms until it slipped down and pooled around his legs. Her hands eagerly went to his boxer briefs. He let her slip them down, and she had to kneel to reach his ankles.

  Her almond eyes looked up at him. "You are so handsome, Byron Jones."

  As she knelt, her eyes dropped and widened at the sight of his throbbing member. It hung at eye level for her, and he hoped she would get the idea of what to do with it. She did, lunging her head forward to eagerly take it into her mouth.

  "Yes, suck it," he groaned.

  He gasped as her lips closed over his thickening shaft. It felt amazing, even though the sharpness of her fangs on his skin made his balls tighten. Yet she took him in gently and kept her teeth only grazing the length of his cock.

  He rested his hands on the back of her head as it moved up and down, and her triangular ears flicked through his fingers. She worked her way along his shaft, leaving it wet and gleaming from her tongue and cheeks, and he couldn't hold back another groan.

  "Oh, yeah," he gasped. "That feels so good, Chetaara."

  She released him from her mouth and slowly rose to her feet. "I want to make you feel good. I want you to claim me by filling my body with your seed."

  As she spoke, her fingers tugged the knot on her loincloth and it fell away, revealing glistening wetness between her thighs. She kissed his cheek and neck while crawling onto the bed next to him and settled on her knees and elbows. She looked over her shoulder at him with a coy smile.

  "Take me, Byron Jones," she whispered.

  He obeyed, coming up behind her and admiring the full roundness of her ass presented to him. His thickening cock didn't need any help finding its way into her and he groaned at the tight velvety grip of her pussy as it surrounded him. He placed his hips on her hips and began to thrust.

  Once again, his mind spun at how amazing his life had become. Once practically begging for just a date with girls he didn't even feel that attracted to, he now had two women throwing themselves at him within the space of a few hours. He wished he could find that old man from the subway and give him a kiss in gratitude. If he had known how amazing Venus Online was, he would have been willing to do anything to log into it.

  Since she had longer legs than him, Byron had to thrust upwards to enter Chetaara, but that only made it feel so much more incredible. Her back arched to meet him and she let out soft groans with each movement to fill her depths.

  "Yes," Chetaara gasped. "Make me yours forever, Master."

  His whole body tingled when she called him Master. He'd never thought he was into that sort of domination, but the way his cock went rigid told him he probably was.

  He ran his hands along the curve of her back to cup her breasts from behind as they swung below her.

  She shuddered as his fingers played with her nipples, and he felt them stiffen under his touch.

  She seemed to draw him ever deeper. She whimpered and twitched, savoring every inch of his manhood.

  Her eagerness and incredible body made his arousal go sky-high, and he felt the climax building inside himself. She seemed to sense his growing pleasure and pumped her hips faster to meet him, fucking him instead of him fucking her. Her energy and hot pussy slamming onto his dick let his climax peak. He thrust his final hard strokes deep into her until he finally came.

  She let out a roar like a lion as her body began to spasm along with him. His legs went weak until he had to lean against the bed to keep standing as he shot his load again and again.When the final drops came oozing out of him, he let himself collapse. She laid her body down on the bed, rolled over, and took him into her arms.

  She kissed the top of his head, his forehead, and made her way down to kiss his lips. More of her alien chant poured from her lips until she spoke English again.

  "The Ritual of Bonding is complete," she whispered. "I am yours. Henceforth, you are no longer Byron Jones. You are my Master."

  He smiled as he looked up at the ceiling. "I could get used to that."

  Text blinked above his head.

  CHETAARA IS NOW A MEMBER OF YOUR PARTY

  Chapter 9

  GENERAL DETH never knew what he would see when he walked into what Lady Necralia called her playroom, and this time was no exception. The screams could be heard long before he approached the door and the two Death Guards stepped aside to allow him to pass.

  One of Lady Necralia's slaves cowered against the wall, naked and vainly struggling against her chains in an attempt to get away from her master's whip.
The bloody lines running down her back, limbs, and breasts showed the futility of her efforts.

  Lady Necralia herself stood in front of her slave, naked with blood dripping down her own breasts. She wielded a hooked whip with obvious pleasure as she lashed it across the slave's body.

  Deth felt somewhat disappointed at the scene before him. He had hoped she would have a more interesting torment for him to see.

  Lady Necralia paused to look at Deth. "I assume you have important news. You know interfering with my hobbies could put you in my slave's place in her stead."

  Deth glanced at the sobbing nude woman. Having been on the receiving end of the lady's agonies, he knew this was no idle threat. "Of course, your majesty. My apologies. But I thought you should know this at once.

  Necralia sighed. "Very well."

  She tapped a button on her bracelet. The chains fell away from the slave who stood frozen for a moment, as if unable to grasp the concept of freedom.

  Necralia reached out a hand to stroke the slave's chin. "You have pleased me well and earned your freedom. Go and be at peace."

  Tears flowed down the slave's face as she dropped to her knees and bowed. "Th-thank you, your majesty."

  The slave stumbled to her feet and began to limp out of the playroom.

  Necralia drew a sword from its place on the wall and hurled it at the slave. The blade punched through the woman's skull.

  As the slave collapsed, Necralia sighed. "There, now, what is the news, General Deth?"

  Necralia walked barefoot over to a bathtub against the wall as Deth said, "My lord, we have news on the lost shipment of slaves."

  Necralia sank into the bubbling waters with a sigh. "Ah, has the delivery been completed?"

  "No, your highness. In fact, the freighter has been lost. And the squadron destroyed."

  Necralia fixed her cold white eyes on Deth. She didn't move, leaving him to cower in her gaze until she whispered, "How?"

  Deth looked down at his tablet to avoid her gtare. "I-It makes no sense, my lady. The flight recorders show a single ship destroyed all three Death Wing fighters with level three weapons. I'm assuming there's an error in the recording, but we have yet to find it."

  Necralia settled back and her breasts bobbed gently in the waters. "A level three."

  "Yes, your grace. Our initial analysis has identified the ship as one recently registered, the Icarus. The owner on the recordings is named Byron Jones. But I'm certain there must be someone else working with him, because the Icarus was a class-five frigate. Again, no match for our pilots. There must be more to it."

  "Or-" Necralia held up a clawed finger. "The one we were warned about has come."

  Deth couldn't hold back a laugh of scorn. "My lady, the story of the Outsider is a fairy tale. Surely--"

  She thrust her finger at him. "You will find this Byron Jones. You will take a battleship and you will capture him and you will bring him to me."

  "A battleship? Surely that's a bit much for--"

  She settled back in the steaming waters. "You have your orders. I want you to carry this out for me personally, general. And if you fail, I will have you chained to that wall and I will peel the flesh from your bones, and bathe in your blood."

  Deth bowed to hide his shudder, knowing she never made idle threats. "I will not fail you, your highness."

  He hurried out of the room, his mind reeling. The idea of sending an entire battleship with a thousand soldiers and a hundred fighters to track down one man for a single lost shipment of slaves seemed like madness. Yet there was no doubt in his mind that Lady Necralia was mad, and he would rather see her thirst for blood satiated on slaves and this Byron Jones than on himself.

  *

  When the doors closed behind General Deth, Lady Necralia settled back in her bath. Her fingers slipped down to play with her nipples as she pondered the situation.

  Just as the Orb had predicted, a low-level player had defeated her. It was a small victory. She had a vast network of billions of slaves spanning a hundred worlds, and one lost shipment was almost infinitesimal but the symbolism was unbearable.

  Of course, she faced losses all the time. As one of the most powerful enemies in the Galaxy, every so-called hero wanted to fight against her empire. She could handle a level fifty foiling her plans, even a level ten. But a three? It was impossible. If news of the loss got out, it would weaken her reputation. There could be only one explanation.

  Her hands moved down her belly and began to rub between her thighs as she called out, "Bring me the Orb."

  The lights dimmed. A low rumble shook the walls and floor, causing the water in her bath to ripple. A light flickered in the center of the room that grew until it formed a glowing white ball in the middle of her playroom.

  The Orb spoke with a deep voice. "Why do you disturb me, Lady Necralia?"

  Under the water, her fingers toyed with her pussy lips as she called out, "It seems your prediction was correct. One has appeared who is far stronger than he should be."

  "Of course I was correct," the Orb rumbled. "I know everything about the game. I know the future. Is it Byron Jones?"

  Her body froze a moment before she could speak again. "Yes. How did--"

  The Orb growled. "It's happening as I have seen it. But we will stop it this time. You will kill this Byron Jones. You will not fail."

  Necralia's fingers quickened on her clit. "Yes, Master. I will give him such pain that the gods themselves will pity him."

  The Orb disappeared in a flash.

  As Lady Necralia thought of Byron Jones' blood dripping from her naked body, she cried out in orgasm.

  Coming Soon: Part 2....

  From the Author

  Reviews are critical to any author's success! The more copies I sell, the more time I can devote to writing. If you’ve enjoyed this book, please go to the site where you purchased it and post a review so others will know!

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  Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is unintentional and purely coincidental.

 

 

 


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