Shalia's Diary Omnibus

by Tracy St. John

  I put my hands behind my neck, hoping that’s where he would expect them. He nodded approval, and I could have cried in relief. I have never been so desperate to come my entire life.

  He slid that horrific vibrator off me, revealing my swollen clit. His leer was cruel as he looked at my blatant arousal, and I knew what he was about to do. A moan escaped me even before he bent down and licked it. When he made that contact, I damned near jumped from the bed to the ceiling.

  “Pretty, needy pussy,” Oses growled in that wolf’s voice of his.

  Maybe he was as horny as me. Maybe he’d pushed his own limits. All I know is that the teasing was blessedly over. Oses crawled between my thighs and over me. His cocks were huge, bobbing over my pussy and gleaming with lubrication. The larger dribbled pre-cum in its excitement.

  Hungry to fuck or not, Oses was still determined to exhibit his control over me. He scooped my legs so that they rested in the crooks of his elbows. Then he held one hand out to me.

  “Wrists,” was all he had to say.

  I obeyed, and he gathered them in that massive hand. I felt as delicate as fine porcelain in his grip, ready to shatter from his leashed strength. He pressed my arms up over my head against the bed’s surface, pinning me.

  With his other hand, he placed his cocks where they needed to go. Damn, he was huge. He might have been the biggest of all the men I’d been with.

  “Take me,” was the only warning I received from Oses. He started cramming me full.

  I gasped and opened myself to his assault. His lengths shoved into me, parting pussy and ass with no mercy. Not that I had the sense to ask for any. No, my poor body had all it could take, especially when that fullness rubbed up against my interior hotspot. Oses hadn’t pushed halfway inside when I detonated.

  The climax was there, catapulting me into the maelstrom after having been denied for so long. Wind howled in my ears, lightning flashed before my vision, and my insides heaved. I’d never come so hard. It was as if my insides twisted themselves in knots before trying to tear the fuck out of my body. If I’d been able to pray, I’d have asked for death in that moment. It was that intense.

  My pussy was still clenching when I regained my senses. Oses pounded against me, strong and fast, fighting his own end for all he was worth. His fangs were down, his jaw clenched. Each muscle was corded in effort, veins popping out as if they would tear through his skin. The man looked like pure destruction. If I’d had breath, I would have screamed at the look of him.

  He recognized I could see and hear again. It wasn’t what he wanted. He reached for my pussy. I found the air to cry out then, attempting to ward him off. I couldn’t take it.

  Oses made me take it. He seized my over-sensitive clit between his fingers and rubbed. “Again!” he roared.

  Once more, I descended into the depths of brutal orgasm. Once more, I lost all knowledge of anything but ecstatic suffering. My universe roiled.

  I have no idea when Oses got his. I only knew we were done when I found myself lying on top of him, while he sprawled beneath me on the sleeping mat. His chest rose and fell beneath my cheek, and his cocks twitched inside my pussy and ass. His exhalations ended in groans.

  It was a long while before we were able to move. My skull felt too heavy to rise, but I managed to do so to look into Oses’s half-lidded eyes.

  “Were you out to fucking kill me?” I asked. I didn’t add ‘Master’. Sex play for Shalia was over.

  He chuffed laughter, a weak sound for such a badass Nobek. “I almost killed myself. Are you all right?”

  “Fetch me a pain inhibitor,” I commanded, bossy now that we were done. “Clean me up and tuck me in for a nice nap.”

  It was stupid of me to order such a controlling beast. However, Oses chuckled, as if indulging a cranky child. “With absolute pleasure,” he agreed.

  He paused long enough to kiss me with such gentleness that I decided somebody had come in and substituted a nice Oses for evil Oses. Or maybe it was that he appreciated getting laid by a woman for a change. Whatever caused the switch, he took care of me. He checked me over for injuries (there were none), fetched me a protein drink and fruit, bathed me, and put me to bed. He snuggled with me, and I basked in his warmth. I slept for three hours.

  Yeah, I’ll do that again...in a week or so, when I’m feeling brave.

  January 26

  I’m trying not to cry. Trying and failing miserably.

  Betra sent me a message that we would be going through a vortex portal in four days...what we Earthers refer to as a ‘wormhole’. It allows us to skip over about a hundred years’ worth of standard space travel in twenty minutes. This portal is a lot more stable than that between Jupiter and Earth’s Bermuda Triangle, not to mention more compressed. My understanding is we’ll go through a total of five of these things before we make it to Kalquor.

  After we go through this one, there’ll be a two-day delay when comming Earth. From that point on, all I can do is send and receive recorded messages.

  Me being the hopeless case that I am, I tried for the last time to reach Dusa, Esak, and Weln. They didn’t pick up on their end...surprise. I expected it, but I had really, really hoped they would let me have a last goodbye. Yeah, yeah, silly Shalia. How many ‘last’ goodbyes should a girl expect? Ah, fuck. I’m crying again.

  Okay, so I did manage to reach my dads. Dad Nayun joined me in being weepy, which made me feel awful. There is nothing sadder than a seven-foot giant teddy bear of a Kalquorian with tears rolling down his cheeks. Dads Bitev and Rak patted him on the shoulders.

  “Stop it,” I begged him. “I’ll never quit bawling if you don’t.”

  “I’m sorry, my daughter,” Nayun said, knuckling his eyes dry only to have them leak again. “It’s been hard enough not having you near, and now our Matara is on her journey to Kalquor too, and I’ll have to go through this all over again...”

  Dad Bitev shook his head. “You’d better sedate yourself, my Imdiko. You’ll be happier unconscious until we return home ourselves.”

  Rak was equally at a loss to deal with crying family members. “I’m no good with this comforting shit. Shalia needs an Imdiko who’s not grieving. For that matter, our Imdiko needs an Imdiko.”

  That managed to lighten the mood a touch. Nayun and I snickered through our tears. Dad Rak grinned sheepishly. He said, “Would someone please give me a head to separate from someone’s shoulders? I can manage that.”

  It was Bitev who remembered Nayun’s weakness, and he used it on my Imdiko dad like a pro. “Go over the information Shalia needs while she carries our grandchild.”

  I could have slugged him for that. In an instant, Dad Nayun was all mother hen/drill sergeant, clucking worriedly and issuing orders. At least he stopped weeping, so I suppose it was for the best. Still, my temporarily dry eyes were soon doing their patented Shalia-roll. If Dad told me to report any strange symptoms to Dr. Tep once, he told me a thousand times. Meanwhile Bitev and Rak smothered chuckles and hid their grins at my growing irritation. What a pair of buffoons.

  Saying our goodbyes turned the waterworks on again. With them came more last-minute instructions on how to handle my pregnancy. Then Dad Bitev weighed in by telling me to study the customs of the various planets and space stations the ship would be stopping at along our route to Kalquor. “I can’t order you to not leave the transport and enjoy shore leave, my daughter. However, I’ll feel better knowing you won’t run afoul of customs and laws you’re not familiar with,” he said. “Especially watch yourself on that Adraf station you’ll be visiting. They let anyone go there.”

  Then Dad Rak issued warnings I was to pass on to potential suitor clans, since he wouldn’t be around to threaten them himself. Am I really supposed to disclose to those I date that making me cry will result in their bodies being slashed open from chins to cocks?

  Actually, it might be fun to relay that message, just to see the looks on people’s faces.

  Finally, I found myself staring
at the blank space where the vid image of my fathers had been standing. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so alone.

  I was already missing them before this. Now it’s worse. They won’t be able to respond to me right away anymore. This sucks.

  Fuck this. I’m going back to bed. Betra can wake me up when we show up at Kalquor.

  January 27

  A woman should not let orgy-loving friends attempt to pull her out of a funk. Why? Because orgy-loving friends will try to lift one’s spirits by taking her to an orgy.

  Yes, I let Katrina rope me into one of her parties. I was bummed out about the coming portal jump and being two days out of com reach of my dads. The distance also makes it feel like the absolute end of me and Clan Dusa. I’m in mourning.

  Katrina’s answer to everything is sex. Candy is reaching the point where she acts the same. They enthused about how much fun they were having with all those boys until I thought, well why not? Screwing a bunch of Kalquorian men has to be healthier than sitting in my quarters and moping. Heaven knows, Betra is still on his high horse after Oses touched his hair, and Oses is too busy being a weapons commander to bother with me. In my experience, sex is an awesome distraction.

  I presented myself at Katrina’s latest salon with Candy at my side. When we showed up, a dozen men were stuffed tight in the sitting room. Candy walked in regal as a princess, waving and blowing kisses to the chorus of appreciative howls. She flipped her short skirt up to show them all she wore no panties. Good heavens. I’m no prude by any stretch, but there’s flirting, and then there’s ringing the dinner bell.

  I had on a top and skirt too, though mine covered a heck of a lot more. If I flipped the hem of my skirt, all they would have glimpsed was the backs of my knees. Wild temptress, that’s me. My blouse was sleeveless, at any rate. Go Shalia, you bare-shouldered vixen.

  Candy didn’t bother with niceties of a few drinks and conversation. That girl had fallen off the virgin truck harder and faster than anyone else I knew. She stood there, looking at her options before pointing at a couple of fellows: a Nobek and a guy whose breed I wasn’t sure of.

  “You and you,” she announced. She flounced off to the bedroom, and her choices wasted no time following, their smiles triumphant.

  That left me standing in the middle of the room under the gaze of the remaining group. Another woman from our group, Bethany the former waitress, sat in a corner with an Imdiko-looking guy. They were snuggling and whispering.

  “Don’t just sit there,” Katrina called in a commanding voice. “Show Shalia your manners, boys. Fetch Shalia a drink...oh but mind the baby. Make it leshella.”

  If Candy had entered as a princess, Katrina sat among her subjects, an absolute queen. A naked queen. Holy smokes.

  She was in the midst of four muscled bodies, which were as naked as hers. Her fair skin glimmered against all that dark brown nudity. A man rubbed her feet, calves, and thighs. Two sat on either side of her, running their hands up and down her torso, stroking and kissing her breasts. They fed her bits of food from a nearby platter and held her cup for her to sip from. The fourth had Katrina reclining against him as he rubbed her shoulders.

  Sodom and Gomorrah had nothing on Katrina’s quarters. I’m sure of it.

  The remaining five men leapt to their feet. They were in various states of undress too, though all had at least a pair of shorts or pants on. Before I could sort out what was happening, I was sitting in the midst of all those men. The next thing I knew, I was being petted and cuddled, fed and wined.

  “Easy boys, easy. Shalia isn’t used to more than three at once,” Katrina chortled. “Sweet, aren’t they? Damn, I love these Kalquorians.”

  A bruiser, surely a Nobek, flared his nostrils wide as he tilted a glass full of leshella to my lips. “That smell...Matara, you are making my senses swim.”

  Another who looked more of a Dramok said, “You must be one of the rare ones that has that effect with pregnancy.”

  “That’s what they tell me,” I managed to say.

  Not shy in the least, the men got friendly in a hurry, uncovering skin and touching. I’d barely sat down and I was sensually mauled.

  My first instinct was to shove them all off, to run for my quarters. It was too much, too fast. But to go off to be alone with my sad thoughts? To have to deal with isolation that would worsen when we completed the portal jump?

  I stayed and played. The leshella and intoxicating bites sweetened my life for a little while. I was the epicenter of a sinuous nest of arms, legs, bodies, and cocks. They slithered over me, beneath me, through me. Mouths and hands investigated every single inch, over and over. I was filled in all possible ways, my body absorbing the eager flesh of men time and again. Pussy, ass, and mouth drew on cocks that poured their pleasure into me.

  I climaxed more than I can count in the drifting dream of too many faces and bodies. Voices whispered in my ear, “Come for me, Matara. Let me satisfy you.” It was not a struggle to obey their pleas. My body responded to handling both firm and gentle.

  I chased orgasm the way a dog chases a cat. During those few precious seconds, I had no regrets or concerns. The horrid loneliness ceased to be. If I hadn’t faded from exhaustion, I would probably still be there, opening myself to all Katrina’s boys, letting them blur the pain with sex.

  When I woke, the Kalquorians were gone. I rested on a cushion, a soft blanket tucked around me. Someone had even been kind enough to wash me after I’d fallen asleep, because I smelled so nice and fresh. My skirt, blouse, and underclothes were folded on a nearby table.

  Katrina and Bethany were passed out nearby, both softly snoring. I had no idea if Candy remained in Katrina’s bed. I didn’t check.

  I dressed and went to my quarters. For all my efforts at escape last night, I’m alone after all. Nothing has changed; I only pretended the inevitable wouldn’t occur. If anything, I’m emptier than before last night. All that sex with so many different men, as distracting as I’d hoped it would be, feels pathetic in hindsight.

  I’m not about to judge Katrina and Candy for the fun they’re having with their ‘boys’. I’m glad they enjoy themselves with such abandon. Heaven knows, I’ve been no angel, and every Earther woman is due her freedom to sexual expression. However, the group sex thing, unless it is with a clan I trust, is not for me. I have no interest in any more of Katrina’s parties.

  It left me in a crappy mood. I made the mistake of looking over my prospective suitors while in this funk. Before I knew it, I was deleting clans left and right for no reason other than being pissy. I forced myself to stop and re-add them for later consideration.

  My moment of good decision-making ended when Betra announced himself at my door. I refused to answer. I won’t deal with any Kalquorian male for any reason. He didn’t give up easily; he kept knocking and buzzing and calling out for at least three minutes. I ignored him and he finally left me in peace.

  Betra doesn’t deserve my irritation either, but it was best I didn’t answer the door. In the mood I’m in, there was no telling how mean I could have been, meanness he doesn’t deserve. I’ll com him later and apologize.

  I pray this is a case of pregnancy hormones gone wild. I hope that’s what’s happening, and I hope it passes soon, or I’ll be bugging Dr. Tep for some of the happy meds that I took during that depressive episode I had on Earth. I can’t stay down.

  January 29

  There is nothing like a sense of purpose to put one’s head on straight. I’m much better than I was a couple of days ago.

  Betra and Oses left me messages on my super-blue day, informing me that blaster training had been approved for those Earther women who wished to take advantage of it and passed the psychological tests. Nearly 350 women signed up.

  I had practice this morning. Confiscated Earth weapons were given to those of us who reported to an assigned cargo bay. The bay had relegated to the purpose of getting us Annie Oakleys into fighting shape. Mine was the first class of the day, which consist
ed of 20 of us. Overseen by Oses and half a dozen other security personnel, we learned the basic parts and functions of our weapons, went over Kalquorian safety regulations, and how to maintain the blasters. Then there were proper handling procedures before they let us load the things up with practice simulation power. We aren’t allowed live power packs until we show proficiency with our weapons. Once we do earn live power for our blasters, we have to register their amounts each week and document any usage. Oses tells me it’s that way for everyone on board, even the Kalquorians. If a murder goes down by percussion blaster, the perpetrator will be quickly found.

  Once we had our practice loads ready, we finally got to shoot. The last quarter of our two-hour class was all about hitting static vid-projected targets. Of my nearest and dearest, Katrina was our best shooter at an 84 percent contact rate, with 56 percent kill shots fired. I turned in a respectable 77 percent contact rate with 43 percent kills. Candy, who has a bad habit of shutting her eyes when she fires, was disgusted with her 38 percent contacts, no kills.