“Thanks, but I’d prefer to go to the place with the all-day cookout and all the buttfucking I can watch,” Sy replied.
“To each his own. No, I had something a little more Earthly in mind. Since you’re already dead, as far as your biker friends know, I want to offer my services to ensure your immortal soul doesn’t get separated from your body any time soon.”
“Blackmail?” Sy growled. This priest clearly had no interest in whether Sy lived or died. Sy was probably just an easy target, as much as he hated to admit that.
“If you like. I want you to do one task for me. If you do, I will ensure the Mother Theresas never harm your sister.”
“You gonna pray for her? ‘Cause I’m not the type of guy who’ll say my Hail Marys until my lips bleed.”
“I have sway with them. All the clubs, actually. Don’t you want to know what the task is?”
“It’s a good task,” Kevin interjected.
Sy gave up. “What’s the task?”
“I want you to shoot the president of Earth when he comes for his state visit.”
* * *
Sy slammed the door to his dingy studio apartment. It was one thing to force a man to kill someone in cold blood, but quite another to do it at a time of day that prevented him from getting his daily snow cone. He was about to flop on the bed when he abruptly paused and did a double take.
At the foot of the bed, a stunning, naked redhead knelt. Her eyes were downcast, her hands rested on her parted knees, and her back was straight.
“Who are you and what the fuck are you doing in my room?” Sy demanded, wrapping his hand around the girl’s throat. She trembled at his touch.
“Master? I was sent by Father Croxden, as a sign of g-goodwill, and to aid you in any way I can.” She was clearly terrified, but her sultry voice stirred something in his pants. He released her throat and tilted her head toward him. One of her eyes was silver.
“You’ve got a fucking spy camera in your eye. Get out.”
She stared at the floor and her eyes filled with tears.
“Please, Master, please let me stay.” Her voice trembled when she spoke. Whether she was genuinely distressed or simply being manipulative, Sy couldn’t tell.
“Why?” He wanted her to give him a contrived reason, a lie, a blatant exaggeration, so he could throw her out with a clear conscience. The only reason he hadn’t put her out on his doorstep already was because something about her seemed more vulnerable than the other slaves he’d seen.
“If you send me away, I will be killed, Master.” She didn’t say it in a pitiful tone, or a sensual one, it was more like she was stating a fact, and so Sy believed her.
He stared heavenward and ran his hands through his hair. Of course she would. Because the damn priest knew Sy’s weakness. He couldn’t stand to see a woman suffer. Well, except consensually.
“Here, Master, let me show you how I can be of service.” She crawled toward him and put her hands to his pants. Her voice was maple syrup and Sy wanted to find out if her pussy tasted as good as her voice sounded. He grasped her delicate wrists in his big hands.
“No.” His voice was firm. She looked up at him plaintively and wiggled her hips suggestively. He felt the need to explain himself. “You want to suck my cock? You can at least share a drink with me, first.”
“Yes, Master. What drink would you like?” She kept her gaze downcast as she spoke.
“The one I make myself, to ensure you don’t put any voodoo juice in there that’ll make me do weird shit. I don’t trust you as far as I can throw you, and since you’re a chit of a girl and I can bench press three hundred pounds, I can probably throw you pretty far.” He wasn’t sure why he’d added that about himself, except maybe to impress her. No. Who would try to chat up a slave? They’d put out anyway. They had to. Unless their master had tasked them as off-limits for some reason. But she wasn’t wearing red panties, and anyway, she’d already practically thrown herself at him.
“Do you like orange juice?” he asked, pulling out a cheap carton from the fridge.
“Yes, Master,” she replied.
He wondered if he’d offered her a drink of vinegar, if she’d have been equally pliant. Probably. The only slaves he’d ever come across had been trained out of having any preferences. He resolved not to accidentally wind her up by testing her compliance, but something made his eyes linger on the vinegar bottle for a moment longer than they should have.
He handed her a glass and watched her drink it greedily. Near the bottom of the glass, she abruptly stopped drinking, her eyes widened, and she looked up at him.
“I’m so sorry, Master! I forgot to thank you for the drink!” She fell to the floor, almost in a fetal position, with her arms extended in front of her.
“Whatever.” He cursed inwardly. He’d fantasized often about having a pliant, obedient woman to toy with, but he’d never wanted a slave. They were so helpless and dependent on their masters. When she didn’t get up, he added, “That floor isn’t clean. I’d get your nose off it if I were you. Sit up.” He refilled both glasses and passed her one. “How’d you end up in this situation, anyway?”
She gazed at him with soulful eyes, then shook her head. “I don’t know, Master. I awoke one day, and all I wanted was to serve my masters. I knew other days had gone before it, but I couldn’t remember anything about them. Except that I think I was different before.”
Sy frowned. “What’s your name?”
“Lita, Master.”
“I’m Sy. Guess I’m stuck with you, but you’re to stay out of my way, okay?” He didn’t want the added complication of her getting under his feet while he figured out how to get out of assassinating Earth’s president.
“Yes, Master.”
Then, something else occurred to Sy. “Say... Lita. You’re over age, right?”
“Uh... yes, Master. The priest never takes anyone under twenty-one as a slave. Says they break too easily, Master.” Her answer was reassuring, but why didn’t she know how old she was? There was a lot about this situation that didn’t make sense, but if he was going to get aroused by a sexy naked chick, he’d much rather it was a woman close to his own age than younger.
For the next hour, Sy laid back on the bed researching President Hounslow, until he had a pretty good idea about what he needed to do. After a while, he became aware that Lita had knelt for the entire hour exactly where she’d drunk her orange juice.
“Don’t you have something to do?” he asked.
She shook her head. “No, Master. I only want to serve you. I’m trained in many ways of pleasing you,” she said suggestively. How could she be so reserved and innocent yet so sensual at the same time?
His cock had been half-hard since he first saw her. Now, it became a painful granite erection, and he decided there were worse things she could be trained to do than take his cock.
“On the bed,” he told her.
She climbed up, then paused, uncertain what to do next.
He decided to help her out. “Do you want me to fuck you?”
“Yes, please, Master,” she replied lustily. It was all the encouragement he needed. He unleashed his cock and seized a mass of her red hair, pulling her head back as he entered her. She moaned. He savored the tight, firm pussy that surrounded his cock. It filled him with a warmth that traveled down to the soles of his feet. Sliding back out, he slammed into her until his hard abs touched her pliant bottom. He imagined what her pale flesh would look like if it was covered in red welts from his belt, and he almost blew his load right then. Judging by the sounds she made, she was pretty close, too. Time to mix it up a little.
He pulled out of her with a pop. His cock was soaked with her juices.
“Is your ass trained?” he asked.
She shuddered.
“Y-yes, Master,” she whispered. It wasn’t the sort of response he wanted to hear before fucking a woman. He never wanted a woman to fear him.
“Are you all right?” He forced his voi
ce to be more gentle, despite the pressure in his balls demanding release.
“It hurts when people use me there, Master.”
He sighed. “It’s not supposed to.”
Every part of her body had tensed up and he softened. Trailing a hand over her ass, he savored her silky white skin. Sy leaned down to her ear. “Trust your new master, Lita. Trust that when my cock slides into your bottom hole, you will enjoy it. You will come, screaming and writhing around my cock, and you will be sad when it’s over.”
“Yes, Master,” she replied dutifully, although she didn’t sound convinced. He swatted her bottom playfully, landing a handprint clean across her sit spot. She gasped. Before she responded, his fingers were at her pussy, stroking, dancing over the hairless folds of flesh and exploring her firm body.
“Good girl,” he told her, then he knelt behind her, parted her cheeks and inhaled. Her feminine musk mingled with the scent of soap from a recent shower. He began at her clit, and licked up, over her vagina, until his tongue reached her bottom hole. Her breath hitched in her throat. Amused, he circled her bottom hole several times with his tongue before he returned to her clit, lingering and teasing her sensitive flesh.
When she gurgled in a surprising display of abandon, he dipped one of his fingers into her pussy, sliding it in and out to ensure it was well-coated in her juices, then he pressed it against her bottom hole while he nipped and licked at her clit. Her silence and the way her body stiffened both revealed her fear. He stroked her bottom with his free hand.
“It’s all right, little one. Let my finger in,” he coached her. His finger slid inside her tight hole, and soon her silken passage was crushing his digit.
* * *
Lita had been afraid when her new master had told her that he wanted to claim her bottom hole. She had hoped he wouldn’t want to go there at all. Even more confusingly, instead of just taking what he wanted from her, he had instead put his mouth to her clit, and gently filled her bottom with his finger. His careful entry and thoughtful attention to her clit combined to fill her with deep tingles that set her spine aglow.
Somewhere in the mists of Lita’s past, someone had done something to her body that made her hunger for sex almost constantly. It prevented her from sleeping properly, when she was permitted to rest at all. Sometimes people gave her things to keep her awake so they could use her for longer. But despite her perpetual desire, she had never been able to overcome her fear of being penetrated in her rear. Every experience she’d had to date had proven it was something painful that should only be borne stoically until it was over. Some men seemed to enjoy it more when she cried from the pain. Sy seemed to want something different though, and she struggled to interpret what would make him tick.
When his finger began to move in her bottom, she thought she might pass out from how good it felt. Her eyes watered from joy at the sheer perfection of this moment. She had only known him for a couple of hours but already she knew he was the kindest man she ever remembered meeting, and certainly the most thoughtful man she’d been sent to pleasure.
The implant in her left eye burned when the tears touched the metal iris. She would tear it out if she could. It would be better to be blind than to be watched all the time through her own eye. They were always watching. She didn’t dare tell her new master how bad her situation was.
She could literally explode at any moment. There was an implant in the back of her neck. She had seen it being demonstrated. A thirty-second delay, then it took out everything within ten feet of the implant. She was here because, if Sy failed, the priest wanted him dead. It was a shame; Sy seemed nice.
His finger gently moved in her bottom hole, causing her nerves to sing, and she moaned incoherently into the bed. All the while, he lavished attention on her pussy. Heat pooled within her, and it wasn’t long before Lita recognized a familiar pressure.
“May I come, please, Master?” she asked.
“Yes, sweet one, come for me,” he replied in his growly voice. There was something real and honest about the way he spoke. His voice vibrated through her body as she unraveled, flexing her spine and curling her toes, while pulses of explosive pleasure coursed through her.
When she was only a puddle of melted jelly on the bedsheet, she remembered to mumble, “Thank you, Master.” While he didn’t seem to know the rules she’d been trained to follow, she still didn’t want to accidentally elicit a punishment from him. Especially not after such a wonderful climax.
Before she could think about it too much more, his finger slid out of her bottom hole, something cold was rubbed over her rosebud, and then the thick head of his cock pressed against her naughtiest opening. Lita was so relaxed from her recent orgasm that she couldn’t find it within her to be fearful.
“Good girl, open wide for my cock,” he told her. His words caused her to moan and writhe on the bed beneath him, then she forced her bottom to relax. Slowly, his huge cock pressed into her. Tingling muscles were stretched further than they’d ever been, but it was a good, satisfying stretch, that accompanied bolts of need from her sensitive opening. His cock was huge, and he worked it into her ass slowly.
After a certain point, his cock suddenly slid very quickly the rest of the way, then he was buried to the hilt within her rear, his hot, hard abs firmly touching her butt cheeks. She felt every inch of him inside her, the entire shape of his cock was imprinted into her back passage as she adjusted to his size. His huge, rough hands held her hips. She’d noticed the tattoos all over them earlier, and wondered what they all meant. Curious, she wanted to look around and watch his inked hands maneuver her unmarked flesh as he impaled her on his cock, but she didn’t dare do something so bold. Slaves weren’t supposed to be curious.
He slid out of her and her stretched muscles relaxed a little, her bottom hole closing around nothing, then he pushed in again, easier this time. The glowing nerve endings in her bottom made her moan with desire. Her willingness to submit had never been a consideration before, and that small, thoughtful gesture filled her heart with something warm and unfamiliar.
Her life—so far as she remembered it—hadn’t included much warmth. There had been a lot of pain and fear. First, they had called it training. But no one had told her that, after training, things would never improve. She was simply an object, kept in a cage until someone wished to use her. Time ticked down to the moment when she was no longer useful, at which point the implant in her neck would be activated.
It wasn’t a concern for long, however. Her desire for sex outweighed her worries over her situation. She hated that her libido ruled her head. Then she became lost in the sensation as Sy stroked her clit and fucked her gently in the ass. Electricity coursed through her body and her dormant soul came alive. Part of her lay waiting until she was being used, then something within her awakened with the full force of a typhoon. It was stronger, now, than it ever had been in the past. There was a connection to this man. The warmth from his hands around her waist, and his cock buried inside her rear, thawed her emptiness. Her passion for the act of sex itself was transformed into a passion for him.
Wait. That wasn’t supposed to happen. She’d been given to more men than she could count, passed around like a spare umbrella, and often it was expected of her to climax, but never had she experienced a gentle warmth in her heart while she submitted to a man.
“How does it feel to have my cock buried in your ass?” he murmured into her ear.
“Good, Master. So good,” she moaned. It had never been better than this. Her entire life might have been leading up to this one moment.
“Ready to go a little harder?” he checked.
“Yes, please, Master,” she breathed. Had anyone told her even an hour ago that she would be begging for more anal, she wouldn’t have believed them. Yet, as his cock opened her body to him, she needed nothing else.
He shifted his hands to her waist, thrusting into her harder, and her ass was stretched with a mouth-watering tingle by his solid cock. He kne
w exactly what he was doing with her body, even if he didn’t know the rules she’d been trained to follow. She’d rather be with someone who made her feel like this than someone who knew that she couldn’t go to the bathroom without permission.
His strong hands were protective, comforting, while he held her. He fucked her faster, frenzied, spanking her clit with his balls every time he buried himself in her to the hilt once more. The sparks from her clit combined with the rosy glow within her ass. His cock seemed to get even bigger as she tightened around him.
“Please, Master,” she began.
“Not yet,” he growled.
She widened her eyes in surprise. Was that a sadistic streak showing through? For some reason, it made her crave her release even more. Her womb ached for reprieve, her empty pussy clenched around nothing and her clit throbbed, sending pulses straight to her spine.
“Please, may I come, Master?” she tried again. He swatted her bottom, hard, and the sharp pain radiated across her flesh, adding to her arousal. She moaned into the bed.
“What kind of a slave doesn’t wait until her master is ready?” he asked gruffly. She squeezed her eyes shut, hoping that he wouldn’t punish her for her transgression. She’d never struggled with holding onto her orgasm before.
“S-sorry, Ma-aster,” she ground out through gritted teeth. Already, she was falling into the abyss, and she didn’t know how to prevent it. She wailed as the pressure became too great. He swatted her bottom again, thrusting into her hard, growling like a wild animal.
“Come, slave,” he told her. She screamed as powerful waves of tingles coursed through her body, her legs tensed, her spine flexed, and she fell apart around his cock. He growled once more, louder, then stilled inside her bottom. She came again, shuddering, when his cock pulsed and his seed spurted into her. Its tingling warmth radiated through her well-used ass.
He seemed stunned as he pulled out of her, then he did something that surprised her more than anything else today. Moving her on the bed so she lay on her side, he curled up behind her like a big cozy spoon, then wrapped his strong, inked arms around her, and he held her protectively.
Alien Alphas: Twenty-Three Naughty Sci-Fi Romance Novellas Page 88
